What a difference a day makes
Twenty-four little hours
Brought the sun and the flowers
Where there used to be rain[/i]
Compared to yesterday the weather and the mood was completely different and the tunes of this song suddenly came into my mind while I was again on my way to Torridon.

The weatherforecast was pretty good and therefore I didn't want to miss the chance to complete the Beinn Eighe Munros today before I had to change my place, so Slioch, which actually was on my list, has to wait for the next time.

As usual I was taking my time - no hurries during my holidays! and arrived around noon, but was lucky enough to find some space to park my car.

Looking up I wondered were the path was leading because from the parking one hardly can see any traces. But once on the track it was impossible to miss it. Snaillike it meanders through the moorland, steadly ascending but soon it becomes quite steep and in parts the path is very well prepared, almost like a staircase, to prevent erosion.

From time to time I turned around to enjoy the views

Although it was a perfect walking day I didn't met many walkers. On my way up I passed only one walker and at the scree of Coire an Laoigh I met a family who was coming down.


At the trigpoint I caught up a with a young couple which I passed because they didn't like to scramble over the boulders and along the crags to the top. But the last bit was not worth to worry - et voilà:

I was pretty windy up there but the views had been amazing:




The walk along the ridge was sheer pleasure, just see yourself:








Finally I reached the cairn of Cònneach Mhòr and I tried to reconstruct my traces from my yesterday's adventure in the mist, which was hard to imagine with the clear views all around now (Link for yesterday's walk https://www.walkhighlands.co.uk/Forum/viewtopic.php?f=9&t=102055.).


The question I tried not to think off during my walk was now unavoidable. Which way down? Of course I wouldn't go down again the scree from yesterday, so the only alternative seemed be the bealach between the Tripple Buttress and Sail Mòr.



While exploring the surroundings I still didn't realy feel convinced about this way


Was is possible to make a short cut straight down, I wondered?
(Short cuts are never short, I thought by myself) But seeing the path below was so tempting.

Finally I decided to go straight down the slopes of Bealach Gorm.

One couldn't really call it going. Most of the time I was sliding down over grass and heather on my bump because I hardly could stand upright. But this was quite fun and I this way I made good progress and it was very knee-friendly. What I didn't consider and couldn't see from above had been the crags in between the grassy slopes which were awfully steep and took some good negotiation to manage. There had been passages which seemed to be insurmountable. But going back up again was never an option. So I focused on each step and very, very slowly I made progress meter by meter, and whenever I felt a bit desperate I was looking down where I could see the path. Although it always was still far away it was good to see where my destination would be.



Finally I was back on solid ground and happy that I have survived this egregious descend without any injuries, only the seam at the back of my trousers had been unraveld, but this was easyly repaired and a little snag is now covered with a sheep-patch, which always will remind me of this adventure.
The loss of my edge 1000 was a bit annoying. It must have happened at the last crag where I had to take off my rucksack and had to let it drop because it was all to narrow and steep to keep it on my back. But the moment the rucksack has dropped it tumbled down gaining speed with each meter and I already thought I'll never see it again. But then it came to a halt in the stoney bed of a burn which luckily was not much flooded. So, another lesson was learned from this: always fix everything!!

During my walk back along the road it became more and more windy and dark clouds where covering the sky, but I got back to the car park before it began to rain.

On the drive to the parking a father with his daughter was passing me with their mountain bikes heading for their car which was the only one left apart from my car.

A last look towards the mountains, meanwhile wrapped in thick mist, reminding me how lucky I was today, and a grateful goodby that I was back in one piece before I returned to my little cottage in Aultbea.