A move to the east and an attempt on a hill!
A few hours later, and after some hasty phone calls stood outside in a blizzard to get a signal, we had accommodation booked for the next 3 nights. Unfortunately, neither venue could do all 3, so it would be 1 night in Strath More up from Loch Broom, and then a move to Newtonmore. So we headed east and north on the wonderful road from Torridon via Gairloch.
Forest Way is an excellent bunkhouse and we quickly settled in and chatted with the owner, Iain. With Steve heading home first thing due to other commitments, Nigel and I were watching a brief weather window, and looking at the map of the hills opposite. The obvious one is Ben Enaiglair, which rises almost from our door. Iain told us of a sneaky route up through the woods from the nature trail, to a hidden opening in the deer fence at the tree line.
The next morning, that was where we headed, climbing steeply through the forest. The forecast was for a good morning, then a weather front coming in later. Some forecasts said as early as 1pm, some as late as 4pm. We pushed on upwards and found our gate, which would never be spotted without inside knowledge.
Now we were out of the trees, the ground was immediately snow covered, though it was wet slushy stuff that barely came over our toes at first. We were ascending alongside a deep gorge, just occasionally glimpsing splashing water below. Eventually we found a way across where the ground levelled off, and turned towards our hill. Behind us, there were great views of the Fannichs and some of the Fisherfield hills.
Unfortunately, we could also see that the clouds were dark in that direction, and we knew we were in a race against time. We could see our ridge line above, and if we could get most of the way up that before the front arrived, we might have a chance of nicking the summit. We plodded on upwards, the snow now starting to become deep, and never of a nice consistency to aid our progress.
Nigel did most of the trail-breaking, using what we call his “go-go-gadget-legs”, the lanky old…..
With the wind chillingly cold, but in a damp way rather than a crisp way, knowing we’d be very exposed on the ridge, we decided to grab an early fuel stop and headed for a little crag that gave us shelter. The views from our little terrace were magnificent, An Teallach displaying its remarkable outline against the darkening sky.
Suitably re-fuelled with pies and soup, we continued upwards. Coming out from the shelter of our rock, it became quickly clear that the weather was already changing. The snow was also getting deeper, slowing us down as we trudged steeply upward, from landmark to landmark in the thickening clag.
It was pretty grim. Wet sleet was battering our faces, somehow more miserable than proper blizzard would have been. It wasn’t long before we gave it up, clearly this was no brief shower, and we were still some way off the ridge thanks to the slow pace in the snow. Time to turn around.
Of course it all seemed quite easy and sheltered now, as we very quickly dropped back down, but a few glimpses back to the ridge, or should I say the cloud, proved we’d have had no fun up there. We crossed the gully once again, and dropped back to the woods. By the time we got there, it was properly raining this low down, and it didn’t stop for several hours, by when we were drinking coffee in Inverness on our way to Newtonmore.
At last, a day to remember on Creag Dhubh
The hostel in Newtonmore is a regular stop off of ours over the years, another great place to stay, with a decent pub opposite as a bonus. After a night there, Nige and I were praying that the good forecast for Saturday we’d been seeing all week, would hold just long enough. Having had enough of driving, we again chose to walk from the front door, the shapely ridge of local Graham Creag Dhubh rising from just outside town. As we opened that door, drizzle started instantly. This wasn’t supposed to happen!
Fortunately, it was only kidding, and the forecast clearance was building. We wandered out of town to the southwest, and found our way into the woods above a riding school. Here a track zig-zagged upwards, covered in light snow even at this low altitude.
Soon we left the woods behind, and the track disappeared under the snow. Our route seemed obvious enough, heading for a nick in the skyline, but we’d have to avoid hidden bogs and make our way through tangled, stunted woodlands as the slopes steepened.
Here on the sheltered NE slopes of the hill, the snow was deep at times. It was, at least, less slushy than yesterday’s, and though it was hard work breaking trail, I was enjoying that feeling of a proper winter day out.
Nige took his turn up front, and soon enough we were approaching the ridge line, spotting two climbers following our trail behind. At the small bealach, we waited for them to catch us up, whilst gazing out into the Monadhliath mountains ahead, plastered in thick snow.
The two chaps caught us up, and we chatted, each happy to be in the hills on a wonderful day. They’d come over from the Aberdeen area, choosing a spot that would give them a chance of a good summit in the brief weather window like ourselves. Being fitter and faster than us, we were happy to let them lead off, and they soon left us behind.
The ridge of Creag Dhubh is over a mile long, undulating over numerous other tops, whose geology tended to make for short steep climbs between level sections. After the first 614m top, the ridge narrows slightly. Our friends cut the corner ahead, but Nige and I chose to stick to the ridge itself, and were rewarded for this approach. As we left the little bealach, a narrow section was full of sculpted snow, wind-scoured shapes which led the eye towards the higher summits beyond.
With our sugary sculptures left behind, the ridge opened up, and we climbed steadily onwards. After a few false summits, we met our Aberdonian friends returning.
By now the snow was mostly firm, and we heard that beautiful sound that only winter walkers know, that sort of crunchy squeak as boot enters snow just enough to give a perfect platform for the next stride. It was wonderful, and we were revelling in our location after a week spent making the most of bad weather. I let Nigel get ahead, for photographic reasons of course, nothing to do with energy, honest!
Finally, the views opened out ahead, and the large summit cairn appeared. Ahead, the views were fabulous, snow sparkling in every direction, the Spey twinkling below, and all around the endless hills led the eye into the far distance.
It was chuffing cold, though, so we didn’t hang around. The first signs of showers were hanging over the south west horizon, so we turned and headed back, intending to stop in a sheltered spot lower down for a bite to eat.
We found that sheltered spot just before the sun started to be cloaked by hastening clouds. A coffee and a bit of food gave us energy for the quick dash over the final bumps of the ridge, casting glances into the Monadhliath’s deep glens, and then we were plunging through the deep snow in the ridge and heading for home.
Farewell to the hills, for a while, but we will be back.
