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So this weekend didnie look too great weather-wise, but maybe a bit further north it would come a bit later.. So I found myself on my way to Coigach after work on Friday – parts of which I had never fully explored – exciting!
It was raining round about Dingwall, but as I passed by the Fannaichs, I could see sunbeams shining on Ullapool. I turned off the main road, resisted the Stac Pollaidh temptation, and found a braw spot for the tent up near Loch Osgaig. Dougie wasn’t too far behind me.
We awoke to a fine morning, looking forward to a walk we had planned to do a few times, but things had never come together. It wasn’t far to the end of the road where we squeezed into the carpark – looked popular today.
We took a path down the glen for a while. Progress was slow because down in the farmland, there was a cuckoo flapping about, screaming blue murder and wagging his tail feathers in a display that I have never witnessed before.
I have only ever seen a cuckoo disappearing, and the display was a remarkable sight that kept on stopping me in my tracks to gawp..
We eventually turned uphill, finding the baggers path next to the burn. It was a bit of a steep climb, but at least dry underfoot, so good progress.
Views to An Teallach and out to the summer isles were looking amazing.
Eventually we were up on flatter ground, the ridge to our right looking fantastic. Unfortunately the baggers path carried on up the burn, so we broke off toward the bottom of the rocky slopes where we found another path starts up. We ignored it and headed straight for the rock though, it was just brilliant. Grippy rock, jugs a plenty, as hard or as easy as you chose - soooo much fun.
We must of spent an hour or so mucking about, but we were still disappointed when the rocks started levelling out, and we realised we were near the top now. Still more joys awaited us in the form of a really narrow rocky ridge, with gaps periodically to scramble down and back up the other side. Loads of little peaks to visit, one with a cairn which I presume was the high point, but it was hard to keep track of all the ups and downs.
All too soon, the ridge widens into a shallow grassy bealach, the true summit a surprisingly short distance. We headed straight for it, arriving at the shelter cairn at the same time as a group of chaps who had come up the long way from the main road.
The shelter wasn’t too good, so we took a few photo’s and headed onward, finding a spot a bit further down to stop for lunch. The eyes were getting drawn toward the Assynt hills now – always look amazing when they are out of their claggy blankets.
Unfortunately, that is where the rain started. Light at first, we were soon huddling under the brolly. We knew that it was more than a shower though, so no choice but onward, down to the bealach, and up gentle slopes to Sgurr nan Fhidleir. The heavens were truly open by now, so there didn’t seem any point hanging around to watch the clag that was rolling in.
So it was heads down, and a quick stomp along the SW ridge back to the road. Despite a bit of a damp finish, a braw wee wander – really special (like all the hills round here)
We had already picked our camp spot for the night a wee bit back along the road. We sat there for ages with the rain pelting down, not wanting to get out of the car and get wet putting up the tent. I snoozed a while, but after an hour we cold see that we would just have to get wet and we got her up in record time for a fine night with idyllic views of the Summer Isles one direction, and the amazing Garbh Coireachan ridge in the other.
It pelted down all night.
Our neighbours the sheep looked miserable in the morning. The rain improved for Sunday, and even some sun was out but there was thick clag over the hills, so we did a wee explore of the area, round the local Brochs, Duns and Beaches, followed by a wander out the old postie path in Strath Canaird.
