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After our wonderful few days in the Fisherfield hills (viewtopic.php?f=9&t=70502), Nigel and I moved just round the corner to base ourselves at the excellent Sail Mhor Croft hostel (
http://www.sailmhor.co.uk/), run by Lynda and Dave.
The forecast for the Thursday wasn’t quite as good as we’d enjoyed at Lochivraon, but it was good enough to plan a hill day. We decided to stay local, walking down the road to Ardessie before climbing alongside the stream and up onto Sail Mhor. It only took 15 minutes to wander to the start of the path, where we turned uphill on a slightly boggy trail.
I’d read about Ardessie’s waterfalls on this very website, but hadn’t really appreciated just how special they are. Looking uphill, a scoured line of bare rock plunges down the hillside in a series of steps and gorges, with glimpses of tumbling white water peeking between the rocks. Beyond, Sail Mhor squats over the brown hillside, its massive flanks looking steep and forbidding. Fortunately our route bypassed all the difficulties by following the stream up before swinging round the back of the hill into a shallow corrie.
For now, though, we had the joy of a simple climb up alongside the falls. After every rise, we were drawn towards the water again, where clefts, slides, pools and cascades fascinated us with a different view at every turn.
The most prominent falls are a lovely pair of watery curtains dropping into a clear pool alongside smooth, comfortable-looking rocks, where you could imagine lying on a sunny day…being eaten alive by midges. Beyond, more falls, foam curling over the lips before plunging to the pools below.
Turning our backs on the waterfalls it was time to get climbing. For now, the summit remained cloud free, but the weather was threatening and the clouds dropped frequently.
We reached the crest of the lower slopes, and ahead of us the vista opened out. To the left, the lowest outliers of might An Teallach.
On our right, signs of devastation lined the river banks. Clearly there has been a mighty flood, and this also explained why the sides of the Falls had been so scoured clean. Dave at the hostel later confirmed that there had been a huge downpour a couple of years earlier, bringing down a huge amount of rock-filled water.
We climbed higher above the eroded edges, planning to cross the stream higher up. Ahead, the impressive spur of Sgurr Ruadh looked forbidding and difficult – it would make an interesting and different approach to the pinnacles of Sgurr Fiona and Corrag Bhuidhe. And as we climbed, the silhouette of Being Dearg Bheag appeared.
Now it was time to cross the river, easy in these low levels, and start our ascent into the corrie after a brief stop for soup and sandwich. A strongish wind made me decide to avoid the ridges flanking the bowl, and take some shelter from them as we climbed, by going straight up the middle.
The conditions were constantly changing, different shades racing across the white hillsides, and now we were approaching the cloudbase. It was all suitably atmospheric.
Whilst the snow wasn’t deep, it was still hard work. Like on Mullach Coire Mhic Fhearchair a few days before, it was unconsolidated and slippery.
Higher up, the route ahead disappeared as the inevitable shower came through, timed to steal our summit views away. I grabbed a compass bearing straight to the cairn and continued upwards, Nigel following close behind.
Soon enough, we were on the top. The views were predictable. It was also pretty bleak and cold, so we turned immediately around intending to stop in the corrie for a break.
In the end, we kept descending, as the shower was the longest of the day. It wasn’t long before the hills came into view once again though, wild and uncaring, oblivious to our prescence.
We stopped at the stream, sitting on the exact same rocks we’d used for a quick snack on the way up. The sun came out, albeit briefly, warming us a little, before we moved on with a quick stagger from rock to rock across the flow.
We were returning by the same route. Once again, we were drawn to the edge of the roaring stream regularly, sometimes to now familiar falls, sometimes to find ones we’d missed on the way up. The first of these turned out to be a massive initial drop into the gorge, spectacular and well hidden.
These falls are truly magical, one of Scotland’s best kept secrets, I can imagine they are different every time you come. I could happily lose a whole day just pottering up and down beside them. I tried a few slow shutter speeds by balancing the camera on the end of the walking pole, but I really needed a tripod.
Near the bottom, a figure straight out of a Dr Seuss book gazed out over the cascade.
Back at the road, the last fall is one of the most impressive, and here the parapet gave me a better solid surface for my lens.
It was then just a simple wander back along the road as the afternoon brightened. It had a been a good short day, the magical falls of Ardessie balancing the wild weather on the hill.
The forecast for the next day was good. Almost too good to believe. Beinn Dearg beckoned, but that will be another story…
...told here: viewtopic.php?f=9&t=70565
