Silver Sands of Morar

Rum from Morar

Lunch on the beach

Our beach

Rum profile

Eigg

Silver Sands

Towards Skye

We were due to return home but the weather was too good not to make a day of the journey. We left Stromeferry by 10:30am and gazed in awe as we drove along Loch Duich at the Five Sisters of Kintail, voluptuous and flirting in the morning sunshine. However, it was too hot for the hills so we decided to visit the sands of Morar and took the A830, the Road to the Isles from Fort William. We had stayed with our young children in the old Garramore Youth Hostel at Morar in 1990 in a similar heatwave and visited again ten years ago when I road-tested my new tent during the frosty nights of April.

It was a good choice, we stopped in the sunkissed village of Arisaig for a drink in the hotel during the lunchtime heat.  We had hoped to take a trip to Eigg but the boat had left at 11:00am. We visited the marina and briefly entertained hiring a sea kayak and looked over some of the yachts for sale before finding an empty beach on the silver sands of Morar. We had a picnic and soaked up the sun in the balmy breeze.

The small isles were so enticing it could have been the Aegean. Is there anywhere better on days like this? Even after the wild remoteness of Applecross and the brutal beauty of Loch Coruisk on Skye, Morar is stunning. The clearances may have wiped out the original population and more recent generations of MacDonalds have left for the cities but the free-range caravans along the coastal strip are stark evidence of its everlasting popularity.

The views to Eigg and Rum were spectacular and we could see through to Knoydart where Sgurr na Ciche stood out like a sugar loaf from the crowd of hills. We continued the journey round Moidart and Sunnart surprised at the number of new houses, all equipped with midge burners. After a coffee at Salen, we made for the ferry at Corran from where we enjoyed the crystal clear views through Glencoe.

The Aonach Eagach ridge seemed like a mere handrail to heaven. It was all I could do to keep driving to the top of the pass. The journey was disrupted by a convoy of vintage cars as well as the usual swarm of motorcyclists and motorhomes. It was a worrying combination as the various groups of busy Sunday evening traffic diced with each other for road space all the way to Crianlarich.  It was still 25°C when we arrived home at 7pm, the midges had arrived to announce the start of summer.

Loch Coruisk

Blue Rum

Bella Jane trip to Loch Coruisk

Loch Coruisk and Skye ridge

Wild swimming in Loch Coruisk

Loch Scavaig evening splendour

Some of my favourite things

Oh happy day 

The fourth day of solid sunshine is a rarity on the West Coast but today we were in luck for our wedding anniversary. The light was so clear that we could see that a visit to Skye would reap rich rewards. I have spent over twenty days on the Skye ridge including several very good ones. But I had never been to Loch Coruisk, the approach from the south, which is always considered to be one of the great seascape/landscape interfaces. I suggested the trip at breakfast and after a lazy start to the day we set out and drove to Plockton first and then to Skye. 

From Broadford, we went through Torrin and passed below the inviting hulk of Bla Bheinn and then down the Strathaird peninsula to Elgol. We arrived in the early afternoon and after buying some home-made lobster rolls at the village shop we embarked on the Bella Jane for the half-hour crossing over Loch Scavaig to Loch na Cuilce, an inlet heaving with common seals that is just a ten-minute walk from Loch Coruisk.  In the other direction, Rum and Eigg were wavy blue lines above the flat translucent blue sea.

Leaving the boat we followed the rough path into the amphitheatre of Loch Coruisk.  The skyline was as sharp as a ripsaw with the familiar pinnacles of the Skye ridge all recognisable. Am Baister and Sgurr nan Gillean were the most obvious but by crossing the stepping stones and following the east shore of the loch, the familiar profiles of Sgurr Mhic Choinnich and the Inaccessible Pinnacle also revealed themselves. 

It was as hot as it gets in Scotland (27°C) so I decided that this was the day for a wild swim. The rough black gabbro rock which normally provides a perfect grip did not work below the waterline, a layer of algae provided an unintended slide for my feet and I had skidded down the steep incline and into the water without having time to brace myself. Surprisingly it was warm enough to spend a few minutes in the water although I resisted the challenge of swimming to the island. I emerged from the water and up the slippy rocks with all the grace of a seal on land and then sun-dried and gently baked myself on the rock ledge before returning to the boat.  

We joined the groups of heavily camera clad French, German, Canadian and American visitors who were unaware of what a privileged day they had chosen for this excursion. The sun was illuminating the Cuillins like a spotlight and we were enjoying the tranquil journey back when some dolphins were seen about a mile away. The captain of the Bella Jane changed course and, after we reached the pod, we were entertained to 15 minutes of spectacular performance as about 120 dolphins raced the boat and performed graceful manoeuvres at close quarters. Even the captain was moved by the relationship that the dolphins established with the 25 or so passengers, several of whom were getting through memory cards for their cameras quicker than they would have done a box of film in pre-digital days.  It was a magical interlude. The Cuillins provided the backdrop for a display of synchronised swimming that needed no make-up.

We arrived back in Elgol just before six and returned to Stromeferry where we spent a couple of hours sitting outside celebrating our anniversary and eating al fresco. We indulged ourselves with more local produce including cheese and ice cream from the excellent West Highland Dairy at Achmore before the midges emerged as the sun began slipped below the hills at 9pm.

Applecross

Ardban wild remote beaches 

Shell beach at Coillegillie, Raasay in distance

Coilliegillie

Thrift

Ardban from Colliegillie

Weathered Wood 

Loch Carron at sunset

The May heatwave had arrived and coincided perfectly with our four day trip to the north-west staying at my brother's house near Stromeferry. There is no better place to be on days like this with all day sunshine, soaring temperatures and landscapes displaying all the colours, smells and sounds of late spring. We thought the drive up had been spectacular but the days just got better. We decided to visit Applecross, a place we had not been since we camped with the children about twenty years ago. We had received a wedding anniversary card with a picture of Ardban, a place that I had to find on a map - it was in the far forgotten corner of Applecross.

The drive over Bealach na Ba is one of the highest public roads in Britain reaching 626metres with some devilishly steep gradients on some of the bends.. It was only 150 metres below the nearby Corbett, which I bravely resisted and the compensation was a beer in the excellent Applecross Inn.  The street is lined by cottages, most of which look like holiday retreats but the views across to the island of Raasay were stunning, and behind Raasay, birthplace of Sorley MacLean, stood Skye which he described as "o great island, island of my love"

We drove on to Ardban, there is a track of a mile or so to a couple of 'coral' beaches which looked to me more like shell beaches but white and inviting nevertheless. We had the remote beach to ourselves and waded out to the rock shelf, enjoyed a picnic and whiled away a couple of hours looking over to Raasay and to Skye .

I sauntered down to the old settlement which must have been close to where Monty Hall made his programme about Applecross a couple of years ago. There were a number of old crofts facing west and situated to enjoy sunsets over Raasay and Skye. The track there was not designed for vehicles and even the European Regional Development Fund, which has funded some marginal projects in this part of the world, would have struggled to pass audit on a road to somewhere this remote. By mid afternoon we had had our fill of sun and returned over the bealach. We should probably have gone on the coast road and visited Shieldaig for an ice cream because we were held up for 45 minutes whilst the single track road by the seafood bar at Kishorn was re-surfaced by the imperturtable Highland Council road men.

Later on after a meal at the Carron restaurant we made a visit to Loch Carron beyond Ardmore at sunset.  I was admonished for endlessly skimming stones on the glass like sea when everyone else was ready to return home. A day like this needed a whisky to complete it and one arrived by magic.

West Highland Way: Kingshouse to Fort William

                                                 Total        Total   Section Section
Wednesday, 23 May 2012       Distance   Time  Ascent  Descent  
White Corries to Altnafeadh        6km        1:01    120m     85m
Altnafeadh to Kinlochleven       16km       2:51    285m   570m
Kinlochleven to Fort William     39km       7:27    610m   615m

Bus Drop at White Corries

Kingshouse and Buchaille Etive Mor

Buchaille Etive Mor

A busy start from the Kingshouse

Bichaille Etive Mor

Top of the Devil's staircase Mamores and Ben Nevis ahoy

Descent to Kinlochleven

Above Kinlochleven

Kinlochleven, the Aluminium works

Towards Lairigmor

Lairigmor

Descent to Glen Nevis

Ben Nevis in summer attire

Bidean nam Bian dinnertime gully from A82 on the bus

This was the final leg of the attempt on a three day walk of the West Highland Way (WHW) and took place on the hottest day of the year so far, 25°C. I left home at 7:30am to drive to Crianlarich to catch the Glasgow to Skye bus that dropped me at the White Corries Ski resort close to the Kingshouse Hotel.  I was able to use my One Scotland bus pass and every other passenger on the bus seemed to have either one of these or a student travel pass. The City link bus service was excellent with the timetable strictly adhered to and a very comfortable and speedy bus.

I wasted no time on alighting and soon made the Kingshouse hotel which has a bunkhouse and campsite. A sizable number of campers and a few parties of walkers were setting off in both directions. The narrow path that runs parallel to the road for about 5km was full of WHW walkers mainly on their way to Kinlochewe, I would estimate the ratio of south to north compared to north to south is about 12:1.  At the start of the climb up the Devil's staircase I stripped down to shorts and T shirt.  It was a sissy climb, not very hard, according to a couple from Hebden Bridge who were walking two very scary looking bull terriers; they certainly made me feel a cissy as I inched past them and accelerated away from them. The views back to Glencoe were spectacular with Buchaille Etive Mor dominating the foreground and the views down Glen Etive also tantalising.

At the summit of the ridge I took photographs for some walkers before starting the charge down to Kinlochleven. The iPod had shuffled to Angelique Kidjo and the happy African music accompanied me for a couple of kilometres of running free.  The path eventually levelled off and I was singing along with the music as a couple of German girls enjoyed telling me as I passed them. They were on a 9 day walk of the WHW and, given the size of their packs, even this was quite an accomplishment. Further on another group of Germans asked about Bidean nam Bian which they had climbed on a diversion the previous day after camping in the Lost Valley. They thought was one of the best places they had ever visited. I assured them that Bidean was the best munro south of the Great Glen, which seemed to be the answer that they wanted. I was running at a good pace and during the long descent to Kinlochleven the only discomfort was the ever increasing heat. I was in the town by noon, about 30 minutes ahead of schedule.

There was no time to stop with 23 kilometres still to go if I wanted to catch the 5pm bus back from Fort William. So it was straight through the town and I decided to complete the 250 metres of stiff climbing through the woodland on the other side of Loch Leven before stopping for some lunch at the top just before the path joins the old military road.  I was joined at my rocky viewpoint by a keen walker from Edinburgh who was climbing the Corbetts. We walked along for the next couple of kilometres engaged in animated conversation about wilderness Scotland before he struck off to climb Mam na Gualainn.

By this time there were no other walkers about and the long walk up to the ruins at Lairigmor was a pleasant interlude in the heat of the afternoon sun. I stopped to fill up with water from the burns on a couple of occasions but I was beginning to realise that I was going to be up against it to catch the bus so I upped the pace before meeting an elderly athlete coming the other way. He was running from John O' Groats to Lands End covering 20 or so miles every day and had an easy rhythm which suggested he would do it. His example prompted me to start running along the flattish section ahead before entering the forest which has been recently felled. Just as I thought I was on the final descent the path climbed again at Blar a' Chaorainn and there was a steepish section which emerged at a viewpoint for the ever closer vision of Ben Nevis. It was looking almost friendly in its summer colours.

I was catching up with groups of walkers who were on the Kinlochleven to Fort William leg. As I hit the forest road at about 4pm there was still 7 to 8 kilometres to go. I ran down the good gravel track through the forest to Glen Nevis and then along the road from Glen Nevis to Fort William. There were lots of walkers limping along this final section of the walk and it felt a bit insensitive to be running past them but the prospect of just missing the bus was not an option to be entertained so I continued until I arrived at the bus station adjacent to the railway station with just 10 minutes to spare. It was an extra 1km of running from the original finish* of the West Highland Way at the roundabout. I missed the finish sign as I nipped across the road through gaps in the traffic. The bus was on time and provided a relaxing trip back to Crianlarich with wonderful views through Glencoe and as we crossed Rannoch Moor. Bidean nam Bian looked resplendent and I reflected on the climb up the Dinnertime Buttress on January 2, 1989 that had inspired twenty three years of munro bashing and four compleations.

So I had completed the walk in three days as planned, a reasonable achievement for my age, although I still regret not attempting the 24 hour race over the route during my forties when it would have been a realistic target. It had been demanding and I rarely stopped or dropped the pace very much on any of the days. I think on balance it is probably better done over a longer period or at a pace more in keeping with someone who has a bus pass. The feeling of tiredness on the journey home today was similar to that after running a marathon. I was home just after 7pm and a bath followed by bottle of the 'exquisitely lovely' Thwaites Wainwrights Golden Ale sitting outside in the evening sun soothed my recovery.

*Footnote:  The finish has moved to the bottom of the High street, an extra kilometre from the station, but this was not in my guidebook or on my map. It is not very handy for those finishers who want to catch a bus or a train or get a taxi to their accommodation. I walked this section on my way back from climbing the Saddle a couple of weeks later. The extension of the walk is an unfortunate example of local traders trying to grab a bit of extra business. They should realise that at the end of a walk like this your feet are weary and wallets are empty.  The reality is that it is probably late afternoon, the shops are closing and you want a drink, a shower and a rest. A far better finish would be at the top of the High Street in the park adjacent to Nevis Sport and only across the road from the bus and railway stations. I spoke to the Tourist office about this and was told that they had had many similar complaints but they clearly had no intention of doing anything about it. Walking has become a business opportunity as well as a recreational activity.

Still standing at the new finish

West Highland Way: Inversnaid to Kingshouse

Loch Lomond's oak-fringed shores - Ben Vane in cloud

Wednesday, 16 May 2012           Distance   Time  Ascent Descent

Inversnaid to Beinglas Farm            10km     2:15   215m    220m 

Beinglas Farm to Crianlarich           20km     4:02   315m      70m

Crianlarich to Tyndrum                   30km     5:51   235m    260m 

Tyndrum to Bridge of Orchy           41km     7:51   145m    180m

Bridge of Orchy to Victoria Bridge 46km     9:06   195m    195m 

Victoria Bridge to Kingshouse        60km    11:35  300m    180m 

When I completed my first day of an attempted three-day walk of the West Highland Way: Milngavie-Inversnaid. I realised that the next leg from Inversnaid to Kingshouse would be a difficult day and would require at least 11 hours and far more daylight than available in February. Late March was glorious but I spent quite a lot of time away, April was wet and I had work projects to complete and early May was mainly hill walking time. So when I saw a good day in prospect I decided to get on with it. The forecast was cool with sunny periods and maybe an odd shower late in the day. It seemed promising when I got up but by 8 a.m. when Aileen drove me to Inversnaid there were dark skies over Ben Lomond. It took a lot longer than expected on the short drive to Inversnaid as we were confronted by oncoming commuter traffic on the single-track road adopting a 'thou shalt not pass' attitude. Arriving at Inversnaid the place was hoaching with coaches of tourists and squads of Scottish Hydro workers.

The 60-kilometre route for the day splits into six lengths of approximately 10km each, although the last two legs are split into 5km and 14km sections. As a rough guide, I allowed 2 hours for each section which would mean brisk walking. On this occasion, I ran a few kilometres between Crianlarich and Tyndrum when I was keen to make up some time to cover my ten-minute lunch stop.

Bluebell Glade

Rob Roy's cave

Primroses abound

Cheese

The real Lomond Shores

Head of Loch Lomond looking back

Glen Falloch Falls

Keilator above Crianlarich

Ben More and Cruach Ardrain above Crianlarich

Crianlarich hills from St Fillan's priory

Beinn Dorain framed in gorse

Loch Tulla from Mam Garraigh

Deer at Forest Lodge, Victoria Bridge

Rannoch Moor

Ba Bridge looking over Rannoch

Buchaille Etive Mor at the end of the day

I began at Inversnaid feeling slightly naked in a new pair of Skins running tights. As I skipped gracefully over the stepping stones early on the route watched by a party of women walkers I half expected a shout of 'Go Nijinsky' but they simply stared. Perhaps I should have put some shorts over the running tights. This is a tough undulating section of the walk with a narrow path laced with tree roots, large boulders, and overhanging branches and occupied by wild goats, three of whom I soon encountered by Rob Roy's cave. The route was devoid of other walkers so I pushed on as fast as I could apart from taking photos and admiring the primroses, bluebells, wild garlic and distant vistas of the Arrochar Alps as I followed the oak-fringed shores of Loch Lomond.

The distant calling of the cuckoos reminded me that time was tight. Just before I arrived at Beinglas, the campsite with a large cafe, there was the first heavy shower and I was pleased that I had packed at the last minute a pair of waterproof trousers. It was still quite cold and despite moving at a reasonable pace I was glad of the extra layer until the sun emerged on the other side of Beinglas. I was now catching larger groups who had set out from Beinglas or Inverarnan including six happy French walkers, presumably taking a President Sarkozy austerity holiday (now there's an oxymoron we will not miss: Mr Sarkosy and austerity) on the day after President Hollande's election.  On the first stretch, there had only been three couples from Europe who were camping and loaded with rucksacks so large that they would have been skint had they flown with Ryanair.

The section from Beinglas runs up the beautiful Glen Falloch which I remember seeing for the first time as a teenager and assuming that it was the location for an advert for Consulate cigarettes - 'cool as a mountain stream' was the caption. Today the Glen buzzed with the sound of traffic and a freight train clattered through pulling a rolling stock of 24 empty oil tankers. The West Highland Way is wide and easy on this section but it is not the most inspiring part of the walk.

The climb to Keilator farm after using the underpass to cross the A82 road was an attractive interlude with wide open views of the Crianlarich hills and lots of groups to chase down. I continued round to the high point where I had my only real rest of the day on a rocky promontory. It was a chance to change socks and take some food and drink whilst I gazed across at the hills and soaked up the sun which had chosen to make an appearance for an hour or so.  There is a long descent through the forest from here and the dappled light in the forest made it a serene and enjoyable section before crossing the road and doubling back through the flat farmlands of Kirkton Farm and St Fillan's Priory. At Auchtertyre I filled up with water and then jogged through the curiously attractive sand and gravel scrublands of Dalrigh during the approach to Tyndrum.

I was back on schedule and lost no time as I charged up the steady climb out of Tyndrum. I watched a couple of men panning for gold in the river and passed a teepee which reminds you that this is an area which attracts those seeking alternative lifestyles. It is a wide track here and as you reach the high point the conical peak of Beinn Dorain pops into view. By the time I dropped down to Auch the next heavy shower had arrived and completely soaked me before I could rescue the waterproofs. But this is an easy section as far as Bridge of Orchy. I walked for a while with a German couple who asked whether I was stopping at Bridge of Orchy so I explained that I was going on to Kingshouse. They retorted that they had scheduled two more days to get there so they could appreciate Rannoch Moor.

Crossing the A82 again at Bridge of Orchy leads you across the river and then there is a steady climb through the forest that zigs and zags up to the summit of Mam Garraigh. This is a splendid viewpoint looking over Loch Tullah and into the Black Mount.  By now the tops were in cloud and it looked like steady rain was imminent. As I descended to the Inveroran Hotel I phoned Aileen to arrange a rendezvous time for a lift home from Kingshouse as it was unlikely that I could catch the last bus back to Crianlarich from where I had arranged to be collected. There are a couple of kilometres on the minor road between here and Forest Lodge and a young Spanish couple ahead of me suddenly performed a U-turn. They had decided to give up for the day and make camp after feeling the onset of rain and seeing the rain clouds gathering over Rannoch Moor.

At Victoria Bridge, the deer were grazing on the grounds of the house like domestic animals. This is the threshold of civilisation before you tackle the isolated 14-kilometres over desolate moorland wilderness to Kingshouse.  I was walking well but my feet were not enjoying it any longer. I had passed 71 walkers going my way so far but there would be no more walkers going in either direction, it was 6 p.m. The route follows the old road built by Thomas Telford so the gradients were comparatively gentle and it was a bit monotonous if I am being honest.

The day was late, my feet were sore, the weather was dull and threatening and the views were poor. Only the prospect of seeing Ba Bridge lifted my hopes and the river flowed strongly here from the massive hill catchments of  Coire Ba into the heart of Rannoch Moor.  I plodded on for two and half hours wishing I had brought the iPod and for once at a blank about what to think about apart from a good plate of food and a long soak in the bath when I got home.  The last hour was accompanied by steady rain with the magnificent surrounding hills lost in clouds; I was walking on auto step and remembered some apposite lyrics from Led Zeppelin's 'Standing on a hill in my mountain of dreams, telling myself it's not as hard, hard, hard as it seems.' but I was not 'Going to California' I was just going home.

Aileen arrived miraculously just as I reached the road end before the King's House Hotel and the journey home was uninterrupted by traffic on a dreich, bleak May evening. But I had cracked the difficult second stage of the West Highland Way and the next stage, Kingshouse to Fort William, was a far less daunting prospect at just 39km.