KYQ4: Sgor na-h Ulaidh

Summit of Sgor na h-Ulaidh

Saturday 1 October 2016

Ascent: 1075 metres
Distance: 13 kilometres
Time: 5 hours 11 minutes

Sgor na h-Ulaidh 994m 2hrs 37mins
Stob an Fhuarain 968m 3hrs 44mins

Events had conspired against hill walking in recent weeks: gale-force winds had scuppered a few days when I had arranged to go with a friend to climb the Cuillins and a couple of weeks had been spent visiting parts of England that were unfamiliar during a journey down to London. On returning home there was a week of rain and the prospect of a sunny weekend was lost because I was working on Friday and had no time to travel north to Inverness. I decided to finish my last Munro south of the Great Glen - Sgur na h-Ulaidh at the gates of Glencoe. If time permitted I would take in Stob Dubh in Glen Etive, my last Corbett in the south apart from three in the Borders.

It was a misty morning and I faffed about getting ready instead of packing the night before. Charging a phone, camera and altimeter is a chore I could do without. The visibility was less than 100 metres when I finally left home at 8:30am and it was slow progress up to Crianlarich, made slower by a couple of motorcyclists who, contrary to type on the A82, were riding well within themselves but accelerating on all the possible overtaking sections. The sun had appeared by Tyndrum and I was listening to Chicken Shack with Christine Perfect on vocals as I motored over the ever-inspiring Rannoch Moor before beginning the descent to Glencoe. Personally, I'd rather not go blind here. Iain Banks, the recently deceased writer, had released a CD of his favourite tracks and he recommended the Waterboys 'Don't Bang the Drum' as the perfect track for driving over Rannoch Moor. The lyrics fit the occasion perfectly as Buchaille Etive Mor hoves into view.

"Well here we are in a special place

What are you gonna do here?"

I was undecided whether to stop to garner yet another photo of this special place or to charge on. Buchaille Etive Mor was shrouded in a circle of cloud at the lower levels but a helicopter was circling the summit against the clear azure skies. My decision was overtaken by the appearance in the rear mirror of a posse of Aston Martin DB9 coupes. There were a dozen of them travelling at the speed of sound, or so it seemed as they flew past, engines screaming at what must have been 100mph. I was experiencing what it must be like at Le Mans. Should I be angry at the sheer waste of fuel, the conspicuous consumption of these ageing playboys, their vainglorious contempt for other road users; or should I enjoy the cavalcade of raw power and beautiful machinery? My instincts told me to just enjoy the spectacle.

Ten miles later they were still visible ahead as they were caught between the heavy commercial traffic and gangs of motorcyclists coming the other way. I parked at the foot of Glencoe and started to walk about half an hour later than I had intended. Sgor na h-Ulaidh is hidden from the road and the walk-in involves a mile to some houses that have to be avoided by a circuitous path that was oozing mud after the recent rains. A track continues to a locked gate and beyond a narrow path follows the Allt na Muidhe up the glen passing Meall Mor and then the Corbett, Meall Lighiche (hill of the Doctor). Beyond here it is possible to climb up 500 metres of grassy slopes to the ridge leading to Stob an Fhuarain and then on to Sgor na h-Ulaidh. I could see three walkers plodding up but decided to continue to the head of the glen where there is a bealach at 530 metres between Meall Lighiche and Sgur na h-Ulaidh. I had descended down the steep path from the summit to here on a previous visit and thought it might provide a better way up.

Perhaps it is, but not the way I did it. I followed the old fence posts until reaching the crags above and lost the path so I decided to take a rake to the left. I thought it would be quicker than the longer route to the right but I found myself negotiating slabs of wet rock amply greased with mosses and teaming with water. I had to attempt several routes before finally managing to reach the top of the crags. My hands were freezing from pulling up wet slippy steep rocks and I was exhausted by the dangerous exposure on the rock face as much as the climb. I continued at a gentler pace to the summit where I was surprised to arrive before others who had climbed to the ridge leading to Stob an Fhuarain.and then the summit

It was almost 1pm so I settled down to some lunch before others arrived. A couple from Aviemore was next up and we chatted for half an hour or so having discovered common acquaintances, my niece Alison, and experiences on different hills. A mountain leader emerged on his day off and he joined the happy band. When I related that I had bought a new Goretex jacket in January and never had to use it despite spending 26 days on the Scottish hills, he retorted that as a way of keeping the rain at bay this seemed like a pretty good investment.

The day had never become totally clear and now the clouds began to hide the sun and the skies turned grey. I descended over the outlying top meeting two more groups of three walkers on my descent. Bidean nam Bian was drifting in and out of cloud so I decided to drop down to the glen. It was easy going down the grassy slopes and I reached the glen just behind the mountain leader who had descended by my ascent route but had kept to the path and not deviated onto the crags. We walked out the last three kilometres together. He had been a civil engineer but retired early so he could pursue his hobby of mountaineering as a job. He seemed very content, spending time in the Lakes, Snowdonia and the Alps as well. He enjoyed guiding in Scotland the most but found the midges and weather too much in July and August. It was almost 4pm when we reached the cars after a mainly easy day on the hill. I was an hour too late to attempt Beinn Dubh so I was happy to arrive home early for once.