What a difference a day makes in the wildly varying Scottish weather. I decided, as my holidays were at the wind-down stage, to take a few days out and savour what has fast become my favourite area of late. I managed to secure accommodation at The Heathers B&B in Glen Gloy for a few days and arrived on Wednesday in rain, apparently it had been raining for a few days and Ian and Sheila were hopeful that my arrival would bring a change for the better (they are such a nice couple). After checking in I headed straight for the barrel of shortbread that awaited me, as I knew it would be, and settled down in my comfortable surroundings for the evening...mmm shortbread and hot chocolate and John Wayne on the laptop...perfect.
When I awoke the next day (Thursday) I was greeted by warm sunshine, clear blue skies and the promise of an excellent days exploration.
The plan today was to find access routes for future walks, of which there are still many to explore in the surrounding countryside around Fort William (without ever having to go near the town itself). I thought I had pretty much exhausted every route down here when I completed the Glen Nevis range, adding to the Loch Laggan, Fersit and Grey Corries routes that I have picked off all year (except Stob Ban in the Grey Corries). But on checking the map I realised that I could return here and access so much more next year, reaching out to Glenfinnan, Ardnamurchan, Kinlochleven and Loch Lochy (the latter of which was my main focus on this excursion).
As the day was so fine, and I had time on my side, I opted to include a short walk along Loch Lochy, taking in the access route to tomorrows Munro walk, and make the most of the fine weather. it was a short ish drive along the edge of the Loch, looking stunningly resplendent in the sunshine, to South Laggan, then a careful drive along to Kilfinnan on a single track road with errant sheep stepping out in front of you every so often along the way. I arrived at Kilfinnan expecting to find grassy verges as the only parking (see walkhighlands website) and was pleasantly surprised to find a proper parking space (for around three cars) off the side of the road.
I walked along the access path and found that it led off to various log cabinesque accommodations along the side of the loch, then branched off to take in the Great Glen Way footpath. I continued along the path for a few kilometers, basking in the sunshine, taking snaps of my surroundings where the excessive lighting would allow, until I approached the start of the route I would take tomorrow, signified by an old walkers boot on top of a rock leading into the trees.
I decided to about turn here as any further would have meant me attempting the Munro's poorly prepared (I hadn't even brought along a bottle of water on such a gentle saunter). There is a wide range of flora and fauna along this route, various fungi growing in the strangest places, dragonflies that are happy to dive bomb you until you are out of their territory, grasshoppers clicking unseen in the undergrowth and a variety of birds singing in the treetops along the way...Once back at the car I returned along the same route and headed to the commando memorial above Spean Bridge. Every time I had been here previously the weather had been dull and views limited as a result.
Today I could see everything this area had to offer, soaring peaks all around, culminating in the splendid view of Aonanch Mor, Carn Mor Dearg and Ben Nevis in a rising triple bill of previous glories achieved this year. The roof of Britain really does dominate everything around here, from every angle, and makes you wonder what it has done to deserve a depressing soulless place such as Fort William at its foot!! I returned to the Heathers and settled down for the evening, Celtic online and a nice tea awaited. The last of my drugs would whisk me off to sleep afterwards and dream of an equally fine day tomorrow...
But this is Scotland and no two days are ever alike...I bet you don't even need me to tell you that the weather had changed completely and I was not greeted by warm sunshine today, rather a depressing tip tap of rain falling on the rooftops, mist lay thick on the hills and the temperature would ensure that my fleece was required yet again!!
A filling breakfast (the only time I ever indulge in cooked breakfast is when I'm away on these trips) set me up for my day as usual.
I set off, as yesterday, along the same access road and paths until I reached the boot on a rock. Now it became a journey into the unknown...One of the effects of my recent sojourn into the world of pharmaceuticals was a fuggy headed feeling in the mornings, almost spaced out as it were, as if on auto-pilot at times. Add a misty mornings walk along a thickly treed path and I can now add paranoia to those other feelings.
As I trudged up the 'coffin road' I could swear I was being followed...not the first time I had had this feeling recently...but this time I could hear no voices or sounds (not even birds) just a feeling I had. The coffin road is so called as this was used by crofters from the remote region to the north to carry their dead to the graveyard at Kilfinnan in times gone by. Knowing this did nothing to ease my feelings of paranoia as I trudged up through the trees, constantly looking over my shoulder at imaginary sounds in the darkness of the trees...(feel free to have me committed at the first opportunity as I CLEARLY require to lie down in a softly padded room for a week or two).
I continued along the Cam Bhealach path as it rose along the Allt Glas Doire, keeping high above the stream, on the north of the valley. I was headed for the high bealach at 570m between the two Munro's. Almost at the top of this rise the rain returned once more, forcing me into waterproofs for the remainder of my climb.
Once at the bealach I struck out on the path up Sron a Choire Garbh, a good path that zig zags up the side of the Munro keeping well clear of the south-east facing crags and cliffs (neither of which I could really see anyway for the mist). Once the path peters out onto grassy slopes a rounded bealach is reached just above a drop into another corrie. Follow the ridge to the left, not to the right (which leads to a small cairn above broken crags), and a short walk from here to the summit cairn at 937m. If the weather is clear there are extensive views into the wilds of Knoydart and across to the next Munro...unfortunately I had no clear views so all there is is a pic of Jelly McBaby at the cairn.
I followed the grassy slopes back down to the path and returned to the bealach, then crossed some peat bogs and started the climb up the other side onto Meall na Teanga. As I followed the path up and around the slopes of Meall Dubh, keeping to the right so as not to climb Meall Dubh unnecessarily, heading through some more peat bogs on route, the path disappears then reappears as it gains height towards the bealach. Follow the path as it rises sharply up the slopes to the north ridge then follow along the edge of the corrie as it leads directly to the summit cairn at 918m. Once on the summit the wind picked up considerably, quite how McBaby was able to stand upright in such a gale is beyond me!! But stand and pose he did, oh how he suffers for the cause, long enough for me to get a pic prior to departure.
I was not for staying on that bleak cold summit for any longer than was necessary and headed back down to the original bealach on the coffin road, suddenly realising that I was making very good time. At the rate of traverse I would be back at the car in almost 2 hours, giving me an overall 5 hour trip (the recommended trip was 6.5 hours)...not bad for an old bloke with inflamed Achilles!! The return leg was just as wet as the outward one, but faster downhill.
It was interesting, to me anyway, to see that the cloud cover was lying at about 600m and that as I returned to the valley below the loch was clear...most people probably hadn't even noticed how bad the weather was higher up as it remained drier lower down. Once back at the 'boot on a rock' it was a gentle return to the car along the access path. As I was nearing the car a flock (is that the correct analogy??) of cyclists swarmed by me...apparently there is a cycle race along the route tomorrow...and there were a number of people organising signs and what not in preparation. As I approached the car I found a camera case lying beside it (someone must have thought it were mine and left it by the car for me to return). I took it back and will advertise it as found in town tomorrow. All in this was a good day in the hills, though clearly if I had gone yesterday it would have been even better view wise, and another two Munro's 'bagged'. The total for the year is now 54 when the initial target was only 41 and plenty more opportunities await before the weather truly turns against me...starting next month in Glen Sheil with Mike when we will be attempting the Brothers Ridge...until then fellow walkers (and followers alike)...take advantage of breaks in the weather as they arise...stay safe on them thar hills.....
I set off early on Wednesday 7th September for an overnight stay at the Inchbae lodge hotel, just beyond the village of Garve, in the highlands on the A835. I was hoping to arrive early enough to give me time to relax and unwind from the long drive, pooter about on my laptop and such stuff. The lodge was easily found, just off the main road, and I checked in and unpacked my gear. The first shocking news was that they had no wifi access..."but my blog" I stammered, barely believing this revelation!! The second blow came with the discovery (or lack there of) that there is a rubbish phone reception in the area...how can this be in this day and age!! There was a television in the room (which upon investigation appeared to only have three (3) channels) so as long as I didn't mind watching some crappy game show on ITV then I was sorted!! Thank goodness I had the foresight to take a book with me...pity I hadn't taken a film to watch!! The room itself was old and stale, the bed made me itch as soon as I climbed in it; but at least the shower was working and was warm. An early night ensued as the tablets I have been taking to aide sleep appeared to finally kick in; I was blessed with my first full 8 hour sleep in almost 15 years...so this is what normal people sleep like. Up early the following morning I was disappointed in the breakfast on offer, but ate it anyway thinking that as I had already payed for it I deserved it. The final nail in the coffin for the Inchbae came when I checked out and was informed that breakfast was not part of the deal and they charged me 7 quid for a tasteless sausage and some imitation scrambled egg...never again!!
I grumbled away to myself all along the A835 until I reached my destination, a walkers car park on the right hand side of the road just beyond Inverlael bridge. The drive was actually more pleasant than I had been expecting, long straight stretches of road rather than the usual tight bending corners that these roads provide. The views, or what I could see through the mist and rain, looked plentiful along the way; lots of other Munro's to attempt up here...especially the two up by Dundonnell (An Teallach) on the A832.
The walk from the car park follows a well constructed path past a waterworks, through a couple of cattle gates, up through the old forest plantation until a gate is reached on the edge of the forest leading out into open hillside.
From here I followed the stalkers path (how apt) along the side of the river Lael up the Gleann na Squaib. Follow this for approximately another 1.5k until the path forks off to the left. This is the path that will take you back down at the end of the traverse of the four Munro circuit.
Stop to admire the Eis Fionn waterfall on your right as it cascades down through the gorge. Carry on taking the path ahead as it climbs then descends closer to the river Lael on your right. Unfortunately (and this is unavoidable) the river has to be crossed a total of three times on route to the bealach ahead. The current was fast and strong for such a shallow river but lots of deepish pools to fall in if you slip on the slimy rocks beneath the surface (normally you would find some rocks to hop across without getting wet but if there were any then I didn't find them!!). The crossing was not aided by the incessant rain that was falling on me at this time, which in turn brought enough of a chill to me that I adourned a fleece for the first time this year under my jacket. All happed up warm I continued on my merry way...dodging through large puddles and small lochans...across slippy boulders and some scree...all the way up to the lochan Lathail (which would have been idyllic but for the weather).
The cliffs of Coire Mathair Lathail are an impressive backdrop to this spot and the fear that I would have to find a route up through them struck me as concerning in these conditions...but fear not for long as there is a bealach just up from here...the bealach an Lochain Uaine...which has access routes to all three Munro's branching off in different directions ahead.
There is a stone wall leading up to Beinn Dearg, follow it as far as you can, staying on the right hand side of it, until it levels out higher up and a gap appears where the 'path' crosses it.
Go through this gap in the wall and follow the rough path to the left all the way across rough scree to the summit plateau where you will find a large cairn at its highest point. The summit cairn of Beinn Dearg is the highest of the day 1084m and by far the most impressive.
The only down side of today was the weather and the lack of views across to An Teallach from this summit...oh well I will get plenty opportunity when I climb some of the other Munro's around here I'm sure.
Jelly McBaby pics taken I set off back to the wall and down to the bealach again. Once down at the bealach I headed off to my right at the foot of the wall and out towards Cona' Meall.
This involved a wet trudge across boggy ground until the Munro starts to rise out of the mist, up grassy slopes until you reach a small boulder field, then up through some more grass then more boulders until you reach the summit top. It is said that this used to be one of the few Munro's without a cairn on top, but this has been rectified of late and there now sits a small but acceptable form on its narrow steep sided summit at 980m.
The views are meant to be fine across to the Coire Ghranda and its Loch and also back towards the cliffs of Beinn Dearg...but not today unfortunately (I guess I will just have to come back and do it all again in my second round in better weather).
Pics taken I departed the summit to follow my path back to the bealach again, for the third and final time today. Once back at the wall I set off across the bealach, avoiding the lochans in the mist, and found the path leading to Meall nan Ceapraichean. This is an easy climb up through some loose rocks and grassy slopes, though not good in the wet, keeping close to the corrie edge until you come across some larger rocks to slip and slide across. Follow these until the summit cairn comes into view through the mist. The summit of Meall nan Ceapraichean lies at 977m and has a steep slope on the left leading into the corrie below.
The temperature appeared to be dropping each time I stopped for any length of time so I didn't loiter at the summit for longer than it took to snap Jelly McBaby at the cairn. Head off the summit following the line of the corrie rim, or in poor visibility take a rounded bearing to your right and drop down gradually to Ceann Garbh. There is a lochan strewn bealach to the north-east which must be reached via a sharp descent down boulders and grassy slopes, taking care to avoid the bands of crags that lie in wait for the unsuspecting. The going was exceptionally wet here and the mist got thicker, making for an uncomfortable traipse through terrain that was loose and slippy going downhill and then treacherous when the bealach is reached as the potholes are many and not always noticeable until you are in one. There were times that, were it not for the GPS telling me I was on the right path, I was severely doubting myself as having dropped too low for comfort, not helped by the crags now being above and around me and adding to a feeling of being hemmed in on all sides as the mist thickened further. It is rather disorientating to not know if you are heading in the right direction and to start doubting yourself and your GPS...but eventually I started to rise again up grassy slopes and felt happier when the mist started to dissipate. By the time I was halfway up the slopes to Eididh nan Clach Geala the mist had started to clear off the surrounding slopes and I felt more at ease with myself again, now for the first time today seeing some of the lochans and slopes around me clearly. There is a large cairn on top of Eididh nan Clach Geala but it is not the summit cairn...strangely enough...this is a little further along down a dip then back up through some rocks and on the edge of some boulders. It is a lot less impressive than the other cairn and I was tempted to return to the previous cairn to get a better pic.
I decided against this and settled for the poorer looking cairn as it was after all the true summit at 927m. Descend off the west ridge until a small lochan is in sight, turning left at the edge of this and carefully picking a route down grassy slopes until the path below is in sight, head towards this and join it turning right. Hopefully, if the weather is clear, you should be able to see Lochan a' Chnapaich on your left before you join the path back down to Gleann na Sguaib and the Eas Fionn waterfall.
From here you rejoin the access path and head back to the car. Unfortunately the weather cleared too late and low for me to get pics of anything other than the Munro's I had just climbed...except Beinn Dearg...the mist just refused to budge off her.
I was back at the car in a respectable 7hrs 30mins...the suggested time being 9-12 hrs...soaked through with sweat, though my jacket did its job perfectly. I got stripped off at the side of the car and failed to spot a couple in an old fiesta ogling me as I did so...they certainly have a tale to tell when they get home...
Besides from the rubbish weather and poor accommodation I had a wonderful time away and gained another four Munro's to add to the tally (136 now)...until next time friends...the only way is up.....
After the soaking I had received on my last two ridge walks, yesterday and Friday, I was hoping for something a little drier today. This was more to do with the amount of reviews I had scanned regards the AE ridge, and warnings about underfoot safety in the wet, than anything else. I also felt that after two days of rain and mist and little views, I deserved the chance to snap away at all the potentially glorious views I would get from the AE ridge.
The plan was to meet Mike and Andy (Sid and Spot from here on in) at or near the Clachaig Inn around 9ish...breakfast and anxiety poo permitting...which was only a ten minute drive away from my accommodation. I had stayed overnight at the Lyn Leven in Ballachulish and must thank them for their overall hospitality. I was given a warm welcome upon arrival, they furnished me with a bucket of water and offered the use of a hose, so I could wash my muddy gear for the following day, then directed me to the drying room to stash it safely overnight. Once showered and changed I found that I could get no wifi signal in my room, disaster when you have a blog to write, but again was rescued by my hosts willingness to let me use the dining room for as long as I required, free electricity and a nibble of the oatcakes they had left out, too hard to turn down. Breakfast was a hurried affair in the morning, given that I didn't want Sid and Spot waiting too long for me...they may have been compelled to leave without me!! I settled up the bill, collected my dry ish boots/gaiters/trousers from across the road and drove into Glencoe village. After a slight confusion about meeting point, probably down to my lack of cohesion in the brain department after two hard days in the hills, we met up on a single track road behind the Clachaig Inn, beyond the youth hostel, at a point where we hoped the track would take us back down off the ridge, all going well.
It was good to meet up with Mike (Sid) again, as the last time I saw him was on the South Glen Sheil ridge (remember the minge Baino??) last June and we shared a wee laugh about that whilst he was introducing me to Andy (Spot). We transferred gear from Sid's 4x4 to my modest little Polo and set off along the A82 in search of Sir Jimmy Saville's residence...now then now then guys n gals...and the start of the long day ahead.
The parking spot was a rather small tight affair as it was...without some sightseer in a large BMW taking up far too much room for one car...we don't mind you coming here to look at our beauty but for goodness sake think about others needs when you do!!! As we were getting changed and deciding what we would need with us, Spot is worse than me for procrastination when it comes to gear wearing, we were joined by a mini van full of walkers who abandoned their vehicle at the side of the road. They emerged looking keen and fit and serious and we decided to hold back so that we wouldn't slow them down on the slog up Am Bodach.
Little were we to realise at that moment that looks can be very deceptive indeed...for we would catch them within the first 600m or so of climbing and blow them off spectacularly as the day progressed (eventually we spotted them from the 2nd Munro cairn away back on a pinnacle at least an hour behind us).
We passed pleasantries as we passed them, eyeing them closely to see that they may have looked the part but that was never going to be enough on the AE ridge. They were across from Northern Ireland for a week of walking and had decided to get the hardest one out of the way first...hindsight may tell them that they should have gained some hill legs on a lesser route first!!
We ascended the steep path (yes that's right, a path of some accord as well) up Am Bodach, happily snapping away at the views of Bidean nam Bian (I got a bit carried away picture wise as when I climbed it I had zero visibility) and the Buachaille's (Etive Mor and Etive Beag).
Sid was having a bit of a faff at this moment with his trousers, it transpires that he had started the day with a slight split in the groin of his trousers and as we were climbing it was getting worse. Apparently (now this has been verified as fact on wikipedia) a small hole will eventually succumb to the strain of an overweight man stretching his gait and split further as the day progresses. As concerned colleagues it would be remiss of me to say that we showed anything but compassion for Sid at this news...but remiss we are...as we howled with laughter at his predicament (we even insisted that he lead from this point on as we would be spared the gruesome sight of his thong emerging further with each tear). Joking aside, Sid sets a good pace for a fat old bloke and I think Spot was happy to have me dawdling along taking pictures as he felt the first grumbling of refusal to pick up the pace in his knees.
The path may be better than we expected on Am Bodach but that takes nothing away from the sheer slog of hauling one's fat arse up it...thankfully we were boosted by the sight of our NI friends falling further and further behind with each bend in the route. The weather was staying kind for us and allowing us to drink in the views of Munro's all around us...I'm convinced that we would have been even quicker than our eventual good time (6hrs 45mins) if the views had not been so spectacular.
We had taken the steep direct path up to Am bodach, rather than the alternative one that heads for the bealach between Am Bodach and Sron Garbh, and felt all the better for it. Even on this path you could feel how slippy the rocks were and I think we all felt just a little aprehension at the ridge ahead of us. We were certainly making plenty of jokes about the potential for disaster and what we would do in the event (I even sent a farewell text, just in case) of one, but we all knew that there was a seriousness to our fears. There have been enough reported accidents and deaths on the AE ridge to make even the most competent climber a little worried (though most of them probably never admit it).
The views from the top of Am Bodach 943m were everything we had hoped for.
The prime one being the chancellor...a rock pinnacle sticking out prominently above the A82 side of the ridge. If the ground had been drier then we would have undoubtedly scaled along it and sat at the edge, dangling our feet into the valley three thousand feet below us. But such was the wetness on the ground that we decided to leave it for the next time, it would be a good enough excuse to come back with Simon and Baino if nothing else.
From here to Meall Dearg (the first Munro on the ridge) were enough moments to whet the appetite for what lay ahead.
The first real scrambling comes on the descent from Am Bodach.
A short distance from the summit there is an awkward, sloping, slabby cliff to descend; it is steep but not excessively so, but there is a large drop from the ridge below it, and it can become very slippery in the wet.
As we slipped down this cliff, trying to keep composure and trousers intact, Sid announced that his split had gotten wider...cue uncontrollable laughter from his comrades. I did offer to cut them off, or cable tie the loose bits together, but he was having none of it...I think he was slightly miffed at our laughing. If you have any doubts about your ability to deal with this type of scramble/climb then now is the time to admit it and turn back...don't be a hero just for the sake of it.
The rest of the walk to Meall Dearg was pretty straight forward and achieved in a reasonable time. We reached the summit cairn 953m and stopped to admire the ridge ahead.
Pictures were taken and handshakes all round...we felt good and wanted to press on.
The ridge was slightly obscured by mist at this point but you could make it out enough to see just how dangerous and scary it was likely to be...especially the crazy pinnacles!!
From the walkhighlands site; Meall Dearg is a good viewpoint for the other Glencoe peaks, but all walkers eyes will be drawn to the ridge ahead - a frightening prospect. The ridge has several steep rocky chimneys and other short scrambling sections which must be climbed and descended, and is very narrow in places (though it is not as consistently narrow as reputation would have it). There are many short scrambles necessary all along this ridge; the trickiest section is known as the 'Crazy Pinnacles' and is well along the ridge. There is also a tricky move right at the end - a very steep descent onto a narrow section of ridge, which must be climbed down facing the rock. The difficulties then end and the Munro 'Top' of Stob Coire Leith is reached. Note that there are no safe descents from the Aonach Eagach once embarked on this section of ridge; there have been many accidents to scramblers attempting to leave the ridge before the end of the scrambling. The only possible escape route is descend northwards from Meall Dearg.
This is about as accurate as anything I could say about it...what they don't add is the sense of fear and doubt you will experience at various points along this ridge. Make no mistake, I respect anyone that has done this, regardless of how long it took them or which way they managed to climb/scramble/crawl their way across it. We are a unique band of brothers/sisters and kudos to us all.
Each pinnacle provides its own unique moment, with far too much going on to remember everything, but I hope that this does it some justice; we slipped and scrambled our way down some truly fatal drops, hugging the rock with the respect you would give to anything that had the ability to kill you.
I loved the climbs up, picking out hand and foot holds, learning to use your legs for power and hands for balance, pitting your body against nature in a battle you simply had to win.
Exhilarating is simple not comprehensive enough to do justice to the emotions I was feeling as I pulled myself up and over crags that I had previously felt I had no right to be on (I had many a restless night worrying about this in the lead up to it, including one particularly vivid dream of falling from it to the depths below).
Scaling down the other side of them took all my nerve not to fall off and stop my prophecy from coming true. It is no understatement to say that I have never been so scared (and yet excited) at anything in my life.
I hope that Sid and Spot get the opportunity to post their own feelings on the day on here soon, as I would welcome their contribution.
On one of the pinnacles we were stopped in our tracks by the sight of a brocken spectre.
This is a trick of the light where the sun shines behind you onto a cloud below you, giving off a circle of technicolour spectrum with your own shadow contained within...tricking you into thinking there is someone out there with you. We were fortunate enough to witness this from three different angles and tried to get pictures of it but they don't seem to have shown it very well at all, so you will have to take my word for it that it exists. Thankfully Sid and Spot both saw it also so I know I'm not mad.
We continued ascending and descending pinnacles until we reached the 'crazy pinnacles', realising that the worst was yet to come. Just at this point, with Sid leading and Spot in front of me obscuring my view, I heard a thud and a cry of despair...my heart raced until I heard Sid say something about his pack. Apparently Sid had removed his pack and dropped it down one of the harder manoeuvres to make it easier to scale down...unfortunately when it had landed on the rocks below his jacket had fallen out of the pack and been caught by the wind, blowing it slightly further down than we needed to be. Just how difficult this section is can be summed up in the fact that it took serious deliberation not to simply leave a £200 jacket behind. I had absolutely no view of this as Sid clambered down onto very dangerous territory with Spot dangling above him on a pinnacle and me trying to hold myself onto wet rock waiting for the outcome...the feeling of helplessness you get if anything happens is intense up there. I could hear what was happening but could not progress to assist as the ridge just wont allow more than one at a time to pass along it.
After the jacket had been rescued and safely secured in the pack we moved along to an almost flat top on a pinnacle to regroup. As we were debating the jacket rescue (if it had been a north face one I would have told him to leave it) we noticed a climber coming towards us. This was unusual as every guide book tells you to do the ridge from east to west, given the complete lack of passing space once on it, but here they were, two climbers coming towards us. Apart from not knowing ridge etiquette they were clearly experienced climbers, you could tell from the ease with which they moved across the rock. We exchanged greetings, they looked down their noses at us, said something about technical sections then moved along.
The crazy pinnacles are every bit as bad as they sound. A decision had to be made as to the safest way across. Sid poked his head over the top of the first one and declared unhappiness at the wet rock and the sheer scale of the task in prospect.
Spot checked out a possible traverse a little further down with the same assessment. I dropped down onto a lower part, which would involve more climbing to get back up, and said "yeah this is just slightly passable, lets try it". I dropped down a chimney of rock, mindful of the fall in front of me, gripped the rocks with my finger tips and the edge of my boot, somehow pulled myself round a protruding rock (with my back to a quite horrendous fall) and gained a respite on a ledge no wider than my foot. Sid dropped down next but decided that his pack would get in the way so asked me to come back and catch it for him...the reverse manoeuvre took me a few minutes to achieve. Once in place he lowered his pack down to me and I stowed it on a rock above my head as I waited for him to pass Spot's one down also. How I managed to turn around, grip the rock, keep Sid's bag steady, all with Spot's pack in my right hand I could not even begin to describe...it was hard enough the first time with both hands free!! I led the ascent up the crazy pinnacle, stopping at the top to get a snap of Spot coming up behind. The rest of the ridge was equally as adrenaline filled, with moments of high octane climbing and careful descent thrown in...until we reached the final climb. Now we all knew that this was possibly the moment we had been dreading the most, as it gets the most write ups in accounts of the ridge, the climb wasn't too bad (I'm getting quite good at going up) but the descent on the other side of the pinnacle involved scaling down backwards onto the narrowest ledge imaginable!!
There were a few expletives aired on this section but we all made it safely.
At the end of the pinnacles we accounted our injuries...Sid's trousers would require putting down at some point, they were beyond saving. Spot had banged his knee against a rock that he failed to see as he jumped down one short section...ooh it would bruise in the morning (which would actually add some colour to the palest leg I have ever seen). I had entered this with a stiff shoulder from a fall on Beinn a Beither the previous day, it was now exacerbated by over pronating it on a scramble down a rock face when I had to stretch further than my short legs would allow me in order to reach the ledge below me...I started to suffer for it on the drive home and have already altered my plans for the coming week as a result.
The remainder of the walk was now on a decent path up to the summit of Sgorr nam Fiannaidh 967m. We approached the summit and noted that there were others already there; including two young ladies who took great amusement out of Sid's thong and ripped breeks!!
The usual pictures were taken on the summit and all that was left were the celebratory phone calls and texts to send stating that we were still alive. Oh there was the small matter of a two hour hike off the summit back to the car...but that felt almost inconsequential after what we had achieved.
Once back at the car we had to drive up to the start point and sort ourselves out ready for our journeys home.
Aching knees set in as we were getting changed out of sweaty gear and we must have looked a real sight to some of the tourists passing by in their cars...you would think they had never seen three nearly naked blokes in a layby before...until next time friends...if Mike Charlton tells you he knows a shortcut off a hill just walk away.....stay safe.
