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Gerry was an institution. Eccentric, occasionally annoying, but basically friendly (especially when offered ale), & staying in his hostel had become one of the real joys of our winter trips. One of the main reasons was the wonderful fire in the living room area, another the ancient old folk and classical records on the turntable in the corner. I was greatly saddened to hear of his passing early in 2015.
The year before, Nigel, Steve and I had gone up once again for our annual trip, and after a night in “our” room there (each in the same beds as we’ve used since around 1991!), Sunday’s plan was a walk up into Coire Lair in the Coulin Forest, and an ascent of the long whaleback ridge of Beinn Liath Mhor. This wouldn’t be the first time for us on this hill, but Coire Lair and its three surrounding mountain masterpieces, Fuar Tholl, Sgorr Ruadh and Beinn Liath Mhor itself, remain one of my favourite places on the planet.
The ascent to the coire is lovely, beneath the towering flanks of Fuar Tholl on one of the best stalkers’ tracks you’ll ever find.
After a brief section on forest road, you meander onto a beautiful, twisting and climbing trail, blazing its way over bare rock, heather and stream. The climbing passes easily, and suddenly you cross the lip of the hill and ahead of you lies Coire Lair, with Sgorr Ruadh ahead and the flanks of Beinn Liath Mhor to the right.
We headed towards our hill and its steep flanks, and paused for a while to gaze southwards across the glen to the mountains at the head of Loch Monar.
Shortly after that, following a stiff scramble up the steepest part, we reached the snowline. Hoorah, there’s nothing better than walking on crisp, firm snow, and most of this was!
To the south, Fuar Tholl looked magnificent.
Fuel was required after our efforts, so we sat for a few minutes and ate sandwiches, pie and tomato-soup-with-quite-a-lot-of-tabasco-in-it…
I’d bought a new pair of crampons to replace the rusty looking old pair I’d been using for decades, so was very pleased they would now get some use as the snow became harder and the ice axes came out.
Eventually we reached the first summit, with its large cairn.
Ahead, the enticing ridge of Beinn Liath Mhor led us onwards towards the furthest and highest top.
Hidden below the first top, though, are a couple of little “pinnacles”. They’re pretty easy to bypass, even in winter, but a little care is required. The wind had blown the snow into a perfect cornice, forming a beautiful line between dark and shade.
We crossed another top, and a bealach with outstanding views of the cliffs of Fuar Tholl and Sgorr Ruadh across Coire Lair.
A little later, a rocky band crosses the ridge, tending to push you onwards to an airy stance above great drops to the coire floor.
Fortunately, by angling down the rocky flanks you can avoid any real climbing.
To the north, the perfect peak of Sgorr nan Lochan Uaine formed a foreground to the ridge of Beinn Eighe, one of Torridon’s great mountains.
At last, we were approaching the final climb on our switchback ridge, a good thing as the skies were darkening ahead and the wind had whipped up to make walking a little harder.
A final snow arête and we were there.
Beyond, the bare skull of Maol Chean-dearg dominated the skyline.
We didn’t linger for long, it was a cold, windy spot, and we could see showers moving in. The descent involves negotiating your way through a rock band, so we wanted to get this done soon, in case of bad weather. As we descended, our eyes were often drawn to the magnificent cliffs of Sgurr Ruadh.
We found our way easily down the rock flank, thanks to the footsteps of a guided party we’d seen far ahead earlier, and turned to flank the other difficulties with a descending traverse across the mountain side, allowing us to look back at the ridge we had negotiated.
The snow quickly became very soft, but fortunately without showing signs of avalanche risk, but after a few comedy drops into holes, it wasn’t long before we reached the valley floor.
The stalkers’ track took us quickly back down the glen, and we paused on the final descent to contemplate a truly superb day over a bar of chocolate.