Beinn Each and Stuc a' Chroin

Beinn Each, Stuc a'Chroin and Ben Vorlich from Thornhill

Friday, 31 July 2020

Beinn Each and Stuc a' Chroin

Ascent:      1140 metres

Distance:   13 kilometres

Time:         5 hours 45 minutes

Beinn Each         813m     1hr   33mins

Stuc a' Chroin     977m     3hrs  10mins

On any clear day, the view out of the kitchen window is of Stuc a' Chroin, its rugged profile beckoning. I have climbed it 8 times over the years, always with its partner Ben Vorlich until last year when icy conditions deterred us from continuing over to Stuc a' Chroin as we guided a novice walker down from Ben Vorlich. It was time to climb it from Loch Lubnaig via the outlying Corbett, Beinn Each, a route I had not taken since 1994. I had remembered the steepness of the ascent to Beinn Each but forgotten the long and undulating traverse that is required to reach Stuc a' Chroin.

It was supposed to be the hottest day of the summer so I left early but with road work diversions around Callander, it was 8:15am before I set out on the walk from Ardchuillerie More. The house and its estate were undergoing major landscaping work with gateposts announcing the enhanced status of the property. The initial kilometre is a steep narrow path along a new deer fence, over a cascading burn, through some conifer plantations with several fallen trees until a forestry road is reached that climbs to the open ground with a good track leading to Glen Ample.

Near the summit of the path, a signpost points confidently to Beinn Each. It is narrow and through waist-high bracken, the ground was boggy from recent rain and at a gradient that encourages the occasional pause for breath and to take in the views. There was a bank of cloud lying in the glen and as height was gained the profiles of Stob Binnein and Ben More hove into view. Apart from a northerly dogleg at the top of some crags, the climb is unrelenting. I had thought of undercutting Beinn Each and climbing it on the return but decided to get it over with and find an easier descent route from Stuc a' Chroin. 

The winds that had been predicted had been as notable for their absence as the sun but they provided a blast of warm air at the summit. I huddled down to plot the next stage, discovering that I had left my food at home and had just a litre of water to see me through. It was still well before 10:00am so I took 15 minutes to catch up on the news and enjoy the sense of isolation, there aren't many visitors to Beinn Each despite its close proximity to the cities, the path was definitely not well frequented.

It is a steep and tricky descent through the crags from the summit of Beinn Each as the faint path follows the old iron fence posts northwards over undulating intermediate crags towards the 735m top.  The path continues to follow the fence posts from here dropping to 660 metres before climbing another 300 metres to the summit of Stuc a' Chroin. Although I was in no rush, my pace was slow. I arrived at the summit and there were three other walkers, I had a chat with one about life in lockdown and our attempts to get back on the hills. By July I would normally have had 15 or so days in the mountains but this was only my third visit to Munros or Corbetts all year. I found another rock to shelter behind for a drink and a break before beginning the descent. 

I followed the ascent route back to the 735m top from where I decided to take a direct route down to the Glen Ample track. It was rock-strewn at first but then mainly heather and bog grass for the 2-kilometre descent of 400 metres. It was hard on the feet but time was becoming tight, I had intended to be home by 2pm to prepare for a 3pm meeting. The Glen Ample track climbed up to the watershed and then I was able to up the pace for the final 3 kilometres back to the car. A young couple with a baby in a buggy were starting out on a walk and asked my advice on the difficulty of the path. I told them not to bother the steepness, tree roots, burns and fallen trees would make it impossible. I suggested alternative walks but they said that all the car parks and lay-bys were full. As I began the drive home I understood what they meant, the whole of the central belt seemed to have been fooled by the weather forecast, the heatwave in the south was no more than a muggy day in Scotland but the countryside was heaving. There would be heavy downpours and electric storms by 6pm.

Beinn Each signpost

Looking west over Glen Ample towards Stobbinnein and Ben More

Early morning glimpse of Stobbinnein and Ben More from Beinn Each

Stus a Chroin from Beinn Each

Stuc a' Chroin, the final 200 metres of climbing

Stuc a' Chroin summit looking north

Stuc a' Chroin random walkers

The track through Glen Ample

Beinn Each

Hail Our World Beating Panjandrum

European Excess Deaths over Previous Years

Well, after many spurious claims, Boris Johnson's Government has been crowned as 'world-beating' or at least European beating by his own Office of National Statistics for having the highest number of excess deaths during the first wave of the Covid pandemic. In the months until 29 May 2020. England had 7.55% more deaths compared to the previous five years, the second was Spain (6.65%) and the third was Scotland (5.11%). The PM had always said don't make comparisons until we have emerged from the pandemic. Presumably, when he announced the ending of lockdown and encouraged people to get back to work, shopping and eating out, it was in his addled mind that we were emerging from the pandemic.

However, fresh from the failures resulting from the government's slow responses, poor procurement, and confusing messages, we now appear to be teetering on the edge of another wave or series of spikes. Confusion and anger are again raging as 4 million people in the north of England on both sides of the Pennines have had a partial lockdown reinstated. Already government ministers are blaming the public for not following their higgledy-piggledy guidelines or the failure of Asian communities to keep to social distancing. What a bunch of hypocrites they have become. They claim that the scientific advisers are being listened to with more attention than hitherto but listening is not following. Getting this government to apologise and devise clear policies or messages is never going to replace their tendency to sloganise their response with more empty rhetoric.

In Scotland, we have been better led by the first minister who has had the stamina and determination to communicate effectively daily. She has also shown greater caution and the rate of infections rate has fallen dramatically, there have been no deaths for 12 days. It has helped that she has taken advice from the impressive Professor and Chair of Global Public Health at Edinburgh University, Devi Sridhar, who has usually been well ahead of the curve and prepared to call truth to power when advising appropriate actions. Despite this Scotland still emerges as the third-worst European country for excess deaths. This largely stems from the Health Minister, Jeane Freeman's obsessive focus on protecting the NHS whilst failing to understand or accept the consequential impact on the care sector. 

Scottish Government ministers have fared no better than Westminster in failing to engage councils in tackling Covid, this means that local intelligence in tracing the outbreaks is too dependent upon centralised systems and non-operational civil servants to second guess the transmission and protection of its citizens. The obvious delight of the Scottish Government in being better than England is not worth a hill of beans. 

With Boris Johnson as the Grand Panjandrum and his policy-light, slogan-rich ministers running the show, it is impossible not to perform better. Even the much-blamed UK scientific advisers are beginning to follow Devi Sridhar's example and calling time on the government's lack of veracity over its management of the pandemic.

Northern Towns levelled down even further

Isle of Coll

Hogh Bay

Coll Hotel - New extension

With the end of the lockdown, we began to think about where could we go to escape for a few days. We had no intention of flying or taking a train so decided on the Isle of Coll, a staple destination for Aileen since she had family holidays there in the 1960s. The only place open was the hotel so we booked for 6 days on the assumption that the CalMac ferry would eventually begin to operate a timetable, albeit with social distancing. We had a few nervous days unable to obtain a booking until CalMac were allowed to reduce social distancing and increase the capacity of their boats. 

We caught the early boat on Sunday morning, which meant a 4:00 a.m. start from home to bypass the road closure at Callander and park at a friend's house in Oban. The long stay car park that we have used on previous trips to the isles no longer allows overnight parking. We were the only cyclists catching the ferry, although many of the vehicles were loaded with bikes, boats, boards and trailers. As well as small rucksacks and a couple of small panniers we had two holdalls and had asked if the hotel could pick up our luggage at the Arinagour pier. Alas, this didn't happen so we balanced them on the bikes and pushed and freewheeled to the hotel.

The hotel was extensively modernised last year with a new restaurant, bar and reception area abutting the old building which now houses 10 bedrooms. It was a fresh, sunny morning and after dumping our bags and having a coffee in the garden we set out for the beaches in the north. The fresh sea air filled our lungs and heightened our senses as we pedalled easily across the island and then climbed to Windy Gap. We freewheeled down the wild flower-infused asphalt to Torastan beach, crossing the machair and dumping our bikes in the dunes leading down to the empty clean sandy beach. After a full circuit of the beach on foot, we settled down for a leisurely lunch. It was only 14°C but felt comfortable and the views across to the small isles confirmed that this was a special place. 

Our time on the beach was limited by a heavy shower so we retreated to the nearby cemetery where Aileen recalled many of the people she had known during her holidays from their headstones. We were clad in full waterproofs for the return ride and, with the wind behind us, we seemed to freewheel most of the way back to Arinagour. After delighting our palates with a local seafood dinner, the first meal we had not prepared since February, we retired happily exhausted by the freedom of escaping lockdown. The dawn departure, cruising down the Sound of Mull, meeting people, cycling and walking had all reinvigorated our spirits.

And so the week continued, with 5 dry days out of six and three days with some sunshine as we cycled 15 to 20 miles every day. We walked across Feall Bay, Crossapol Bay, Hogh Bay, Cliad Bay, the Cornaig beaches, Struan Bay, Sorisdale Bay, climbed Ben Hogh and visited the RSPB site at Totronald. We were chased across the fields from Crossapol Bay to Feall Bay by a bull and six bullocks, although to be fair there had been a notice saying beware of the Bulls. We promenaded through the village every evening and visited the new Community Centre, An Cruidhe, that opened shortly after our last visit. We met and spoke to many of the islanders who seemed to have been largely unaffected by the lockdown apart from losing the mainstay of their economy, visitors. The cafe had closed, and the B&B and bunkhouse had yet to open so the number of visitors was less than usual.

The man who runs the half marathon was refurbishing the shop and told us he had cancelled this year's event. He had been impressed by last year's winning time, a new record in atrocious conditions. We told him that we knew the winner, Gregor. We met Shane, the basking shark operator and friend of Gregor, he had just started for the season taking groups out every day to swim alongside the sharks. We heard about the conflicts about wind turbines, the island had decided against a community scheme that would have attracted grants and instead, there were numerous private turbines on the outlying farms and properties. We were told that the weather patterns seemed to have changed in recent years with more northerly winds in spring bringing drier sunnier but cooler weather that was causing water supply difficulties. A friendly local couple invited us to join them in their 'sitooterie', a large shed on Main Street that overlooked the harbour and served drinks to friends.

The evening meals in the hotel were mainly a smorgasbord of local shellfish or catches of fresh mackerel. The beer garden wafted by the mellifluous sea air was well used on those evenings when the sun shone. We met someone from near home who was building a new house and he invited us out to see the building as plumbers from Oban were installing the underfloor heating system. The highlight was the nearby beach at Struan which provided another wonderful venue for a picnic lunch with Eigg and Rum for company. 

We left the island on an overcast Saturday, the ferry seemed fuller and social distancing seemed to have lost its imperative. We went on deck for the cruise down the Sound of Mull on a grey day. Arriving in Oban there were massive queues of vehicles heading out to the islands. The summer staycation was obviously in full flow, we were relieved to have managed to enjoy the quiet week at the end of lockdown. We found a place close to the ferry terminal to leave our bikes and luggage whilst I walked up the nearby hill to collect the car from Shane's drive and then load up the bikes. The roads from Oban to Tyndrum were nose-to-tail with traffic. If Nicola Sturgeon, the first minister, had seen this she would have confiscated everyone's ignition keys after apologising for how much she knows that this is difficult for everyone.

Dinner

Fuschia hedging for small birds

Totronald for the sound of Corncrakes

Feall Bay Machair

Feall Bay in full summer 

Gneiss Rock on Hogh Bay

Rock Pool

Croft ruin below Ben Hogh

Ben Hogh summit

An Cruidhe - the new Community Centre and Bunkhouse

 Sorisdale crofts

New house at Sorisdale

View of Rum from Sorisdale

Above Struan Beach, Aileen looking towards Rum

Eigg from Struan beach

Crossapol Cemetery

Arinagour cottages

Arinagour harbour

Yacht moorings at Arinagour

Cornaig beach and Rum

Bull at Cornaig

Cornaig beach

Machair at Cornaig

Rocks at Cornaig beach

Distancing with Alpacas

Hold Tight

Gregor had bought our grandchildren vouchers for a walk with some alpacas as a Christmas present. The problem was they had to travel 400 miles to claim their present and with Covid interruptions, it was almost 7 months before they could rein in their present. We all went along, any excuse to get out is grabbed with glee.  On the first week since re-opening the local Alpaca Centre was heaving and in the large barn containing 30 or so alpacas and the same number of people, there was a demonstration of how not to do social distancing. I retreated outside as soon as possible.

Alpacas are easy-going sociable animals and about twenty of them were sent out with children supposedly walking them on their leads. In practice, the Alpacas were as desperate to get out after lockdown as people and being pack animals they trotted along dragging nervy children on the 2 metres of rope lead. It meant that parents had to take the leads and hold them by a knot only 50 centimetres from the head, an easy spitting distance for the alpacas as we found out. We walked them around a mile or so on the fertile grassland on the peat soil of Flanders Moss. 

The alpacas had just been sheared by a New Zealander so were better groomed than most of the people attending the centre whose hairstyles made them look as if they had just escaped the 1970s. Alpaca wool is the strongest of any animal with four times the insulation property of sheep wool. The owner of the centre was using it to insulate a house that he was building on the site.

As well as newly born alpacas called crias, the centre also hosts llamas, geese, owls and rabbits, providing a curious menagerie for the children. Noah's ark it wasn't, they came in sixes and sevens and there was no group isolation. Visitors could mingle with them in a picnic field, the tables were well distanced although the nearby cafe was still closed. Family bubbles waltzed around the field in unruly formations with children and animals in trepidation of each other. We had had enough and left to visit the viewing tower on Flanders Moss. On a grey summer's day, it provided some solace and social distancing after the chaotic experience of the Alpaca Centre. Compared to the well-thought-out distancing arrangements in most shops we have visited, the tourist attractions and the hospitality sector will have to make far greater efforts than this to keep their customers safe.

A stroll on the Moss

Mother and Cria

An Inflation of Alpacas 

A bio-secure bubble of folk escaping lockdown

Flanders Moss

The Great Escape: Ben Lawers

Looking East from Ben Lawers summit to An Stuc and Meall Garbh

Monday, 6 July 2020

Ascent:        1288 metres
Distance:     10 kilometres
Time:           3 hours 40 minutes

Beinn Ghlas      1103m    1hr 22mins
Ben Lawers       1214m    1hr 58mins

After 15 weeks we were finally allowed to escape to the hills from 3 July. It was surprising that it has been delayed so long, more gregarious sports such as golf, tennis and fishing had been allowed for weeks. If ever there was an activity that guarantees social isolation it would be hill walking. I held off for a couple of days to avoid the heavy downpours and I was anxious not to aggravate my knee that I had twisted 4 weeks ago when running. I had rested as much as possible but still had pangs of pain when gardening. Gregor phoned and persuaded me to seize the day and we decided that the Ben Lawers ridge would meet both our needs. There are good but steep rocky paths and over 1000 metres of climbing. It would be a good test of my knee and allow me to begin recovering some fitness. I have normally climbed the main ridge, sometimes including the two outliers to the north. I would attempt just Beinn Ghlas and Ben Lawers, whilst Gregor would climb the five munros on the main ridge.

It was strange to be driving north of Balquidder for the first time this year, I have usually made about ten trips north by July. The visibility was excellent with most hills visible although Ben Lawers was capped by cloud. We reached the new car park on the steep road that snakes over to Glen Lyon and found the last parking place in the large car park. The ticket machine for parking only takes coins and I have not had any of those since March, all transactions have been by card. We were not going to let that ruin the day so we began our walk, or in Gregor's case, run in windy conditions at 10:15. We agreed that I would pick him up at 3pm, on the main road alongside Loch Tay, he would have to cover 22 kilometres and about 1500 metres of ascent

It is ten years since I last climbed these hills and I was pleasantly surprised by the impressive exit from the new car park through carved stones, notice boards and then a fenced section with a gravelled path for the first half a kilometre. I let Gregor off the leash and tried to settle into a steady pace. There were three people with two dogs behind me and I kept a constant distance ahead of them. This I managed for half an hour including a section after the gradient ratchets up after the gate above the old shielings. By 800 metres it was time to dig out hat and gloves as the strong northwesterly winds gave no inkling that this was summer. It gave me chance to speak to the walkers following me, two young women from Glasgow had a dog that must have been caged for the last 15 weeks given its hyperactive movements up and down the hill. They had both been furloughed and were to return to work in the next week, they were fairly positive about the lockdown, it had given them time to enjoy an unofficial sabbatical and they felt better for it.

Approaching the summit I was surprised to meet two mountain bikers, they were attempting to descend through the rock field below the summit, which they described as the crux. They had to abort, possibly to avoid taking me out, but they were happy to be on the hills again and admitted that their skills and nerves had been suppressed by the lockdown. I took five minutes at the summit to eat some food and recover from the climb. It is an easy drop down to the bealach below Ben Lawers. From here it was a lung-bursting 220-metre climb through rock bands to reach the summit, I was clearly not fit. A trig point is perched precariously on an unstable base, it competes with a stone cairn for bragging rights as the high point. There were about ten people and four dogs sheltering behind the rocks and having lunch. Social distancing was in force. Gregor texted me, he had already got over An Stuc and we brought forward our meeting time to 2:30pm.

I began the descent in the knowledge that my knee had been fine so far but it was jarring from the descent that would be the real test. The return to the bealach was taken carefully and then I took the path that contours below Beinn Ghlas, it was less steep and soft ground so it became possible to walk at a faster pace. I passed three Polish walkers who had left the summit shortly after I arrived, the man had two almost full bottles hanging from his rucksack with what looked like limes in the bottles, I asked if it was vodka and was told no its water and kiwi fruit and no I couldn't have any. I upped my pace again after Gregor sent me another text saying he had completed his last hill. I charged down to the car stopping only to explain the route to the summit to a man who was taking his ten-year-old on a walk. They were flagging and he asked how much further, I told him that he might make it in an hour and a quarter if he had regular fix of chocolate for the boy who was flaked out on the grass.

The car park had overflowed and there must have been twenty extra vehicles parked on the grass verges of the single track road. I changed shoes and drove to Craggantoul on the A827 where Gregor was waiting, he had run the last 7 kilometres from Meall Greig and we were 45 minutes ahead of our original schedule. The sun was out and we both felt reinvigorated by a day on the hills. Driving through Killin, we saw Kieran Jenkins of Channel 4 News filming by the bridge and then saw people drinking outside the Falls of Dochart Inn. We stopped and ordered a couple of pints of shandy on the first day of outdoor drinking, I had a friendly chat with the Channel 4 producer complimenting her on the fine coverage of the pandemic and the diversity of the news teams. We walked across the road and drank our beer on the rocks overlooking the falls, Gregor told me that he had been the house captain of Dochart House at school, something I had never known before. We enjoyed half an hour in the sun but still made it home by 3:30pm and my knee still feels fine.

The initial path above the water intake

On the ascent to Beinn Ghlas

Ben Lawers from Beinn Ghlas

Ben Lawers precarious Trig Point

Looking west over Beinn Ghlas from Ben Lawers

An Stuc and Meall Garbh

Killin Dochart Falls

First Pint for 3 months outside the Falls of Dochart Inn, Killin