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Yesterday I wrote my first ever walk report. And you know what? I thoroughly enjoyed doing it. A nostalgic hour of looking at the photos and remembering a great day out a month or two ago - not too shabby a past time for an otherwise dull evening. As a result, here is another one!
The annual visit of Chris, an old friend of mine from school is an exciting event. Firstly, of course, it is always good to see him, and secondly, I do not currently have a car... and he always comes by car. This means mountains. This August, I had decided that it was time to see the Outer Hebrides, somewhere I had never been before. A whistle stop tour, 2 nights on South Uist, and 2 nights on Harris, cramming in as much as possible. Sounds fun. While the mountains of Harris are rightly famed, South Uist is probably less well distinguished, certainly, a Google image search revealed a scarcity of photos of them. Nonetheless, I had glanced at the map for long enough to know that there were indeed mountains on South Uist, and, if the weather allowed, I planned to go and investigate them.
I don't much like walking in the rain, and sadly, the first day we were there was pretty horrible. We managed a quick climb to the top of the hill on Eriskay, and a bizarre 30 minutes on the beach when suddenly there was blue sky everywhere. Other than that, the rain was relentless.
View from the peak on Eriskay, looking towards South Uist.
I promise that this idyllic weather lasted only 30 minutes, then it was back to rain, rain and more rain.The next morning, however, was better. Actually, that's a lie. It was worse. The wind had picked up and the rain was as relentless as ever. The forecast was set to improve though, and indeed by the time we had finished breakfast, we were able to just about convince ourselves that it was a bit brighter. Slightly. Maybe... A bit. Whatever, we hadn't come all the way to the Western Isles to sit indoors all day, so off we went. We parked (unsurprisingly no competition for the one parking space available), and by the time we had put our boots on, the clouds had indeed lifted, and we could actually see the top of Beinn Mhor. Off we go then!
The walk is described as "boggy in places" and "some boggy areas but is not as bad as you might expect.". Right... Well, if that is the case, I'd hate to see what a seriously boggy walk is like. I walked around the moors in Glen Esk a couple of years ago, just as the temperature warmed and that year's heavy snow was rapidly melting. That had nothing on this was. And this was summer! Without a doubt, this was the boggiest approach I have ever had the misfortune of 'enjoying' A 2 hour slog through bog, which was unavoidably knee-deep in places. In fact, the only other people we saw all day were a group of local shepherds, all of who were wearing knee high wellies. I think that local knowledge tells you all you need to know. Anyway, I'm done grumbling. Honestly. Because it was so worth it.
Bog dealt with, up we go.
Looking back on the bog. And this was one of the higher, and significantly drier parts of it.The slog through the bog over, and the cloud breaking up, the mountains came into better view, and we started to pick out a rout up the gentle narrowing ridge. The views and weather had colluded to improve with each step, and the relatively simple climb took us to the start of the narrow section of the ridge. And what a ridge! While technically there was nothing at all challenging about this ridge, it was spectacular. The massive cliffs loomed to the left and the ridge itself was full of knotted character. The views all around, of the entire island were just an afterthought, really, completing a near perfect little ridge. I think I'd best let the pictures do the talking.
The wonderful, imposing cliffs.
It is not a long ridge, nor a tricky ridge, just a pretty ridge.
Views to the South.
I spotted Chris opting for a hand down in a couple of places, but this was mostly not really needed.
Just another wide shot of that view!We had made good progress, and were on the summit in under 3 hours, so decided to just keep on going to the next peak. The descent between the peaks was very tough, steep and rocky in places, and the climb up the next peak (Beinn Corradail) even steeper, though less rocky and significantly easier than the descent had been. The views couldn't really match those that had gone before.
Resting on the summit of Beinn Corradail. A combination of the unexpectedly arduous approach and my general levels of unfitness meant we were now a little pushed for time, and so had to give Hecla a miss. So we cut down the steep descent to the Bealach and, then turned West, to cut across that damn bog again. Wet feet dried fast, as the sun had managed to persist, and the wind was ever present, so we were soon off in the car, up to more adventures further North on Harris.
Down we go.
Hecla, pity I didn't have time/fitness for it.
Looking back at the end of a lovely Hebridean Day
My friend had one of those thingies on his phone to track his walk... I should get me one of those, they're quite fun to look back on!