This was a bit of a last-minute decision to make the most of a good forecast for some of the Easter weekend. I've had this route planned since I saw the spectacular Sgùrr an Fhidleir for the first time from Cùl Beag. I became slightly fixated on getting a good look at the pyramid of rock, and in particular the view from Lochan Tuath. So, with two nights of camping, I devised a route to see this impressive peak from all angles.

Coast



Arriving at around 4pm I first planned a short walk around the coast to Rubha a' Chàirn from Achnahaird Bay for the first evening. The last shower of the day was moving off into the distance behind the impressive peaks of Assynt and Coigach, perfect timing. Rubha Còigeach seems to have a wild, end of the earth, type feeling. There's a bit of a boggy path around the impressive cliffs. Rubha a' Chàirn itself had a small end section where the boggy heather gave way to dry short grass and then rocky outcrops, ideal for camping.











The sun lowered behind Rubha Còigeach casting its red light onto the pointy peaks across the water. Since the winds were light, I could enjoy the spectacle in comfort for a change. Eventually the light faded, and I retreated to the tent for a bit. I emerged later once the stars were out. There was no moon and the sky was full of stars. I had a bit of fun trying to photograph them but didn't get anything good. The camera did pick up a faint aurora, but only because the shutter was open for 20 seconds, I couldn't see even a hint of it with my eyes. The brightest light was the intermittent flashing of Stoer Head lighthouse.









After a good night's sleep, with the relaxing sounds of waves on three sides, I packed up the tent. It was pretty cold with a slight grass frost even at sea level. I walked back to the car via the little tops of Cnoc Mòr which give an elevated version of the previous evenings’ views. It also gave me a wet leg as I went up to my knee in a bog masquerading as solid ground. Luckily, I had some spare trousers for my next walk. I crept back to the car trying my best not to wake anyone in the campervans, although I think my windscreen wipers clearing the frost probably undid all that.







Mountains



I set off down the road, with a handy public toilet halfway, to the small car park beneath the steep slopes of Ben Mòr Coigach. I started walking following the route description by the fence round the back of the first house. Height is gained very quickly, opening out vast sea views. The climb up Garbh Choireachan is very steep and loose, almost like a sand dune in places, but improves once the ridge is reached. I took all the bypass paths I could with my heavy and bulky rucksack on. The ridge is spectacular, particularly behind, where it falls away to the entrance to Loch Broom and the Summer Isles, and to the right, where it falls away dramatically.





The paths weave through sandstone pinicles rising and falling over the undulations of the ridge. There is nothing too difficult, I'm guessing there are options to make it harder, but it's easy to stay left and avoid most of it. Up here I bumped into the first people of the day, a couple, and their dog, who I would pass a few more times throughout the day. The strange thing was the man grew up in Shropshire not far from where I'm from, as the cliche goes it's a small world.



I pushed on to the summit of Ben Mòr Coigach. Here there's a view back to the ridge that I'd just traversed, on to the mountains of Assynt, and my target for the night, Bienn an Eoin. Next though was a walk around a large bowl and then a fairly easy slope to the top of Sgùrr an Fhidhleir. This was a busy bit with a few other people dotted around, although considering the weather and the long weekend it was still very quiet. I got lucky and got the top to myself. Once again spectacular views from here and a massive drop.











As I made my way up the unnamed 648m top to the northwest it began to feel a bit more remote. I left the few other people far behind and any paths there were before disappeared. One thing that did remain were the great views and weather. Dropping off the other side of the top I reached an amazing area of sculpted sandstone. Some were shaped like piles of pancakes, some shaped like mushrooms, and some had holes. I stayed here a while taking photos before carrying on to find somewhere to descend the ridge. Just past some small lochans the angle to the north east eased and there was a way down. This was fairly steep and a bit slippy in places but not too bad. There was then a rough boggy crossing to Lochan Dearg, a beautiful place with many little sandy beaches.









While filling up with water I saw the couple I'd passed in the morning who it turned out were taking a similar route to me. They headed for the gap between Sgòrr Tuath and Beinn an Eoin and I followed behind. On the OS map this bit looks tricky with a deer fence and some forestry to negotiate. In reality the deer fence is broken and the forest non-existent. The slope to the bealach is also easier than it looked from a distance, and I soon reached the lochan at the top. I decided to skip Sgòrr Tuath as there was only a couple of hours until sunset. So, I plodded on up to Beinn an Eoin enjoying the interesting rocks along the way.











The wind had now strengthened and I attempted to pitch in the shelter of a rock just below the summit, which sort of helped a bit. The views from the top are stunning, the sun dropping over Harris and Lewis, the pyramid of Sgùrr an Fhidhleir, and the peaks of Assynt rising abruptly to the north. I watched the sun set and then hid from the wind for a couple of hours before having a look at the stars. Then it was bed. Last time I camped it was November and my summer stuff was freezing at night. The cold radiating from the ground was the main problem. To combat this I'd brought some spare insulation stuff that I'd used to put behind my radiators. It was the kind of stuff that looks like metallic bubble wrap which was nice and light but slightly bulky. Maybe it was a placebo, or the ground was warmer than last time, either way I slept fine.









Unfortunately, during the night, the cloud had rolled in, and the views disappeared. There was no point hanging around for sunrise, so I packed away and headed down towards Lochan Tuath. To get there I walked sort of away from the lochan until the slope to the east eased enough for me to descend. I then headed to a gap in the deer fence in the middle of the glen. I was slightly disappointed to arrive at Lochan Tuath as I'd kind of planned the route to be at this place just after sunrise. I'd imagined looking up at Sgùrr an Fhidhleir as it was illuminated by rays of golden light. The reality was very low cloud, however some slight breaks past across the hills to give a slight hint of the view I was missing. Oh well, I'd been spoilt the previous couple of days, so I was fine with the cloud.





If the cloud wasn't down, I'd planned to follow the fence southeast up, what looks on the map, an incredibly steep bit at first to reach Speicein Còinnich. From here I wanted to head over to Beinn nan Caorach. Since this was all very much in the clouds I decided on a change of plan and followed the shore of Lochan Tuath before ascending the slope I'd descended the previous day to reach the sculpted sandstone area again. Then over to Beinn nan Caorach and descending directly to the car park. This gave the chance for the cloud base to rise and, although I'd done a similar route the day before, it seemed fresh in the different conditions. By the end all the local mountains were free of cloud and the sun was trying to peak through, although the wind had really picked up. Beinn nan Caorach had a good path and some great views. It seemed worth the extra effort if doing the normal route of Ben Mòr Coigach and Sgùrr an Fhidhleir. Eventually the car came into view and slowly got closer, as did some walkers making their way up. They were a good signpost to regain the path, which I'd lost on the way down.







Despite a bit of disappointment about the early cloud on the Monday I can’t complain. These are small, but dramatic, mountains which are full of interest, perfect.