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I quite wanted to use an alliterative title for this post; however, neither “amazing” nor “awesome” are words that could be applied on this day. The good news is that I’m not inclined to use “awful” or "abysmal" either. I’d reconnected with Andy briefly at Gairloch after not seeing him since he and Pete and I did Am Faochagach en route to Inchnadamph a couple of years ago. We exchanged details, negotiated this mutually beneficial route, and set a date.
I was SO early to Ft. Wm (is that a surprise?), and therefore had plenty of time for both a petrol stop and a bathroom stop. Even thus, I was still at the car park by around 7:30 to find Andy already there; we were kitted up—incl full waterproofs, as it was quite showery—and on our way by 7:45. I kept assuring Andy that early rain and wind were due to clear off, providing the best day of the weekend, before returning later in the day.
Steall Falls from above
Andy on the ridge, not long before going into the cloud
We had some nice views as we climbed up out of Glen Nevis, but the showers kept coming. We were into the clag probably at around 900m; quite high, actually, but it was thick, and stayed with us the entire time we wandered around the plateau, finding first the summit of Aonach Beag (11:30-ish?), and then making our way to Aonach Mor (12:00). There’s not much to say about this part of the day, other than it was fairly miserable—blowing a hoolie, sleet/hail/snow “showers” that were fairly relentless, and not being able to see a thing. I’d really been hoping for an “aha” moment on top of these hills; where I’d finally be able connect the geography, and make sense of, the Mamores, CMD and its relationship with Ben Nevis via the arête, and perhaps even the Grey Corries. Maybe next time.
proof I was there, hanging onto my hat and soaked to the skin. Ah, the joys.
not much point in trying to include any of the surrounding scenery...
During a very brief break in the clouds, we’d done a recce of the “down” route on our way across the plateau, it seemed that we just needed to pick the spot that looked the least arduous. Andy leading the way, we cautiously made our way down a very steep slope that was grassy in places, but that also held very slippy moss-and-water-covered rocks, some of which were impossible to avoid. There were also a few sheer crags that we had to find our way around; each time I thought “there, that’s the worst of it done,” Andy would once again appear to drop off the edge of the earth. I got stuck once, and were it not for him directing me to safety from below, I’d probably still be standing there with shaking knees. I was glad to still be wearing waterproofs, as I was sliding on my bum multiple times down very wet territory.
yes, THAT's what we came down!
Once we reached the bottom of the glen, looking back up over what we’d just come down, we couldn’t quite believe that the WH route had sent us over such tricky terrain, and were surprised but greatly relieved that we’d had no mishaps. When I eventually pulled out the words to have a look, it became clear that we were meant to drop off the shoulder down of Aonach Mor to the 830m bealach and make our way down from there. Yes, Karen, here’s another good object lesson for you: read the words FIRST!
We weren’t very far off the route, to the south, according to the map, but in this instance, using the words as well as the map would have made a rather big difference.
We had a brief stop to refuel near the river; the only one we had all day, given the less-than-favourable conditions on the tops, and then made our way back. We'd neglected to cross over when we had the chance, and found ourselves stranded when a stream from our left joined the one from our right just above the Steall ruins. Both were running high, and we needed to make our way slightly back uphill to find a safe crossing place of the smaller of the two (the one to the left). We finally removed waterproofs at the ruins, and enjoyed the walk back out in calm sunshine: too little, too late, thanks.
I really wanted to do a Myleene Klass-washing-my-hair pose under this. In full walking gear, NOT a bikini!
photo doesn't do it justice, but the light hitting the new green of these trees was gorgeous
The day was by no means a complete washout (pun fully intended), as Andy was great company, and I thoroughly enjoyed seeing beautiful Glen Nevis and the iconic Steall Falls; I’d not been any further than the visitors’ centre. We even had a wee recce of the infamous cable bridge on our way back to the car. I’d have had a go if there’d not been a fair number of people about, either just watching, or waiting to cross. I rather liked Andy's suggestion of simply paddling across, a short distance upstream, as an alternative, thereby avoiding the worst of the boggy bit as well.
We stopped to have some food at the Nevis Inn before heading off in different directions; me south and Andy to Kintail to meet up with Gill, Jonathan, etc., hoping to do the SGSR the following day. I certainly hope they’re having better weather than I am here at home today. I’m quite enjoying being tucked up warm and dry. And not moving around much—it wasn’t a huge day, but my hip was once again giving bother.
It was an Advil PM night.
Which reminds me. During last week’s Mullardoch walk, I’d been thinking and asking around about hill fitness: if you’re feeling unfit (as I was), but have already been spending a lot of time in the hills, what’s to do—push through that tiredness in order to increase your fitness, or acknowledge that because you’ve been pushing quite hard, maybe you need a break? David felt that you needed to push through it, but Nigel’s answer was that you definitely need recovery time. There’s probably about 30 years difference in their ages; I wonder if David’s answer will be the same three decades hence…
