Lurg Mhor and Bidein a' Choire Sheasgaich

Sunday, 22 September 2024

Ascent:     1447 metres
Distance:   41 kilometres cycling, 26 km walking, 15 km
Time:         8 hours 10 minutes

Lurg Mhor.                                987m.   4hrs  12mins
Bidein a' Choire Sheasgaich.    945m.   5hrs  31mins

It was the prospect of revisiting these two hills, along with Maoile Lunndaidh and Sgorr Ruadh and the tantalising forecast of superb weather that had prompted me to offer to accompany Anna on her quest to complete the Munros. She hoped to climb these distant Munros before winter and preferred not to walk alone on these two extremely remote hills.. We had  met briefly a couple of weeks ago on the Glomach Falls path and  she said that she would like some company in climbing some of the more remote Munros. Her determination was beyond doubt.

After 3 hard but brilliant days in the mountains and a late-night finish on Friday, we checked that the Indian Summer would extend to Sunday and decided to take a rest day on Saturday. We had a lazy morning, eating, talking, looking at photos, sorting our stuff, drying our shoes and checking my bruises and the bikes. I was urged to remove the toe clips from my bike to reduce the probability of any more strapped-in somersaults. We drove to Plockton for an al fresco lunch, meandered around the village, pottered around Lochalsh, walked across the Skye Bridge and did some food shopping. We arrived back at the house by 6pm and prepared an early dinner compared to the three previous nights. I was told to be up by six for the big day. We managed to get off by 7:20, and we were cycling from Attadale well before 8am.

The weather was cooler, and there was a morning breeze, but we hadn't started any of our previous walks before 11am, chatting over breakfast and knowing that we were on the doorstep of the mountains. Another car was already parked at Attadale, and a walker wearing a stalker's hat was setting out on his bike. We left about ten minutes later, after unloading the bikes and donning appropriate clothing for the cooler conditions. The first couple of kilometres were flat, and apart from slowing to watch a large stag hiding in the bracken, we were rolling along fine. 

We caught up with the man in the hat, let's call him George, who was perplexed about which track to take at a junction. I identified the right route by using OS maps online after remembering that I had taken the wrong track on this route when climbing Beinn Dronaig three years ago. Anna was unfolding and refolding her paper map that was 20 years old and did not show the more recent paths, but hey ho, some people are still fixated by analogue technologies. We found and crossed the metal bridge over the river and began a ferociously steep climb on the other side. George, his real name, had joined us; he was also heading for Lurg Mhor. We all pushed our bikes up the next section. I was pleased that George's hybrid bike was as old but probably not as heavy as mine; we had excuses when superwoman rode off on her lightweight steed. 

George was a geordie with only half a dozen Munros to go, including Lurg Mhor. Anna made a breakaway once we reached the rideable section so she could stop ahead to take photos of the two of us as we chatted away in an animated conversation about our common interests. George had done the Bob Graham round in the Lake District, and we both had competed in marathons and similar races 30 years ago. We were called a pair of sweetie wives for blethering whilst riding. When she rode past us again to get another set of photos, she asked if her bum looked big on the bike. Yes, we both retorted, without even looking. 

After some longer, flatter sections, the track ramps up again, and the gravel gets bigger and lumpier.  We were all reduced to pushing bikes again to reach the high point of the ride at 340 metres. There are then 3 or 4 kilometres of mainly downhill cruising to the bridge over the Black Water. Our schussing was interrupted by some sensational views of Sheasgaich and Lurg Mhor peeping out of a duvet of white clouds. The glens were green and golden, lit up by shafts of sunshine that we were also blessed with. The temperature inversion had shrouded the nearby Corbett, Beinn Dronaig, in clouds, and to the east, a large bank of white clouds completed the canvas. 

We stopped at the Black Water Bridge to admire the deep gorge, take more photos and, well, chat whilst not riding. The final two kilometres were easy cycling past Ben Dronaig Lodge, where we saw an eagle circling over Creag Dhubh Mhor. It was already a magical day with the best yet to come as we chained our bikes in a butterfly configuration and set out on the path leading to Loch Calavie. Beinn Sheasgaich and Lurg Mohr had been recaptured by clouds, but it was only 10am, and there was time for this to be burnt off with the chance of breaking through the clouds and discovering a temperature inversion. 

Shortly after reaching the shore of Loch Calavie, there is a sign for the steep but good path up the grassy slopes to the bealach between the two Munros. We made steady progress as we entered the cloud layer, which continued until the bealach, a 380-metre climb. The path between Sheasgaich and Lurg Mhor crosses here and there is a final 260 metres of ascent to Lurg Mhor. We emerged from the cloud and gazed down at our brocken spectres. Anna was more excited by the temperature inversion and spent the first fifteen minutes at the summit taking photos of the vista of the peaks as the top of the cloud layer descended to reveal a wrap-around horizon of shapely mountains against the hooloovoo blue skyline. It was a photographer's heaven. 

Back in the real world, George ate his lunch, and I tidied up the cairn. George was on a mission to get back to Newcastle, so it was time for farewells. He had been good company, and if he reads this, thanks and best wishes for your final Munro next year. He insisted on taking a photo of us against the parade of mountains emerging from the white cloud. We stayed for a while and had some lunch before beginning the descent to the bealach, which was still shrouded in the cloud. The ascent of Bidein a' Choire Sheasgaich was an easy 230 metres of climbing. There was no rush; we had spent 45 minutes on the summit of Lurg Mhor and spent another half hour on Sheasgaich as we identified the myriad of peaks. Anna had an app that did it for you. She's also fixated on digital technologies apart from online maps!? I tried to name them by memory, and it prompted some differences that weren't going to be resolved by Anna's map reading.  The main advantage of the app is that you can download the results. (see photo below) There is no cloud for my memory; it is on my hard disc (brain), which is near capacity, and there are no upgrades available yet.

We descended by the southwest ridge to Sail Riabhach, facing into the afternoon sun. We occasionally stumbled on a faint path, but the direction was obvious along the walk highland route. It was 4 kilometres back to the bikes, where we slaked our thirst from a waterfall on the Black Water. We thought about bathing, but it was after 5pm and we had a 13-kilometre cycle ride back to Attadale. The cycle to the Black Water Bridge is easy going, but there are 3 or 4 kilometres of ascent, which involved some pushing before we reached the 340  metre high point of the track. The descent on the chunky gravel was far too steep for my calliper brakes to hold me, and I had no desire to repeat any accidental gymnastics. 

The final few kilometres allowed us to let speed be our friend, and we were back at Attadale before 7pm. It had been another wonderful day. The last five days have given us perfect conditions and visibility, the longest continuous spell of radiant, sun-filled hillwalking days since 1993. John, Keith and I had 7 consecutive days of sunny conditions as we completed the whole of Knoydart, the Skye Ridge and the Aonach Eagach Ridge on the way home, giving us 25 of the more difficult Munros in the week.

This time, as well as the weather and stunning views, the more sedate pace, stops to enjoy the moment, and the company made it an equally memorable trip. After a year or more of treading water and reflecting on the past, the last few days inspired me to rediscover my free spirit, thinking about the future and the need to get out more. 

We returned to the house elated by what we had achieved in the last few days. Anna now has only 8 Munros to go. She is a force of nature, and her iPhone is a digital wand that produces magical photos.

It began to rain as I left for home the next morning after we had packed and cleaned the house. My mood was one of huge contentment, laced with a melancholy that the jaunt was over. Over the last thirty-five years, with an average of 60 Munros and Corbetts a year, I know that hillwalking doesn't get much better than what we experienced over the past four or five days. 

Sweetie Wives

Yes

Gravel and Gravity

The path up from Loch Calavie

The climb from Loch Calavie, Beinn Dronaig behind

Approaching the summit of Lurg Mhor

Meall Mor, the Lurg Mhor top

Sheasgaich from Lurg Mhor

George having lunch on Lurg Mhor

Cheesecake and the Analogue Princess

Lurg Mhor from Sheasgaich

Sheasgaich summit looking to Torridons

Anna's app that identifies Mountains

Bike shed

Drink time

The long and lonely pedal out past Bendronaig Lodge

Speed Bonnie Bike

Descent from the high point

Golden Day(s)

Ben Ledi

 

Loch Lubnaig from the ascent

Wednesday, 22 February 2023

Ascent:      789 metres

Distance:   10 kilometres

Time:         2 hours 56 minutes

Ben Ledi     878m     1hr 29mins

It had been exactly six months since my last foray into the mountains. After returning from London, I decided to take the initiative and seek solace on the hills. I had previously arranged to walk on Thursday with an old neighbour, Arthur, who had been the piper at our daughter's wedding and at the end of my last Munro round. The conditions were more inviting today so I phoned him and we arranged to climb Ben Ledi, starting at noon.

I was slightly apprehensive having spent a week in London pottering around and lost any hill fitness I had last August. Even my morning sorties up Lime Craig had been far less frequent than normal. But what is normal nowadays? People keep saying that things will begin to feel more normal but life without your partner of 43 years will never be normal. I was using a new rucksack bought last August for the first time, it seemed too large for the spare pair of gloves, a water bottle, a sandwich and an orange. There was no need for waterproofs or winter equipment, the day was bright with excellent visibility but quite cold in the northerly breeze. My insulated jacket was soon to prove too warm as we chatted continuously on the steep path up the lower slopes. Unusually, I had to take a couple of phone calls during the ascent and I halted to avoid losing reception on the forest slopes as Arthur continued to climb.

Ben Ledi is my most climbed Corbett or Munro, being a 15-minute drive from home and for 40 years accessible from the garden of Blairgarry, my wife's parent's cottage on Loch Venachar. The paths are well made and it is probably the most climbed Corbett in Scotland, with only Ben Nevis, Cairngorm and Ben Lomond receiving more visitors. The ridge is reached at 600 metres and thereafter there is a steady climb with several steeper sections before the cross to commemorate Sergeant Harry Lawrie. He was the leader of the mountain rescue team and died in a helicopter crash on Ben More in 1987. I knew quite a few of the team and worked with his son so always reflect on the tragedy that took place on a fine February day similar to today.

Even on a midweek February day, the hill was moderately busy with twenty to thirty other walkers. There was no snow cover remaining although the easily visible twin peaks of Ben More and Stob Binnein had retained their cap of snow. We hunkered down amidst some rocks below the summit to eat some food before starting the descent. Arthur has a mountain leadership background and still takes out the occasional group. We both felt our age on the descent, Arthiur's knee was niggling him and my quads could feel the impact of a much longer descent than those of recent months. I was home by 3:45pm for an early bath but, for the first time, there was no fine dining or good company for the evening. That is no longer the norm.

Summit with Arthur

Looking north from the summit to Ben Vane

Beinn Dearg (Torridon) Last Corbett

The Final Corbett

Bein Dearg and Stuc Loch na Cabhaig from the south ridge

Route Map

Friday 3 June 2022

Ascent:       970 metres
Distance:    17 kilometres
Time:          5 hours 31 minutes

Stuc Loch na Cabhaig       889m      2hrs 19mins
Beinn Dearg                      914m      2hrs 40mins

This was the long-awaited attempt to finish the Corbetts on Beinn Dearg, the highest Corbett at 914 metres. The impressive Beinn Dearg hides its rugged Torridonian beauty behind Liathach and Beinn Alligin.  It was a mountain that had inspired me in 1989 when I started bagging Munros and I was disappointed to find that it had been demoted from Munro status by a surveyor's measure of just 20 centimetres. When I retired I decided to complete the Corbetts and attempt another Munro Round. Corbetts had always been an occasional appendage to climbing Munros, apart from the classics like Foinaven and Arkle, the Arran hills and local hills like Ben Ledi and the Cobbler that were regular outings long before 1989.

I had arranged for my most regular walking partners to accompany me, and it would require an early start for the drive to Torridon. I had arranged to stay at a cottage in Achnore on Loch Carron. Keith, my old hill running partner, arrived at 7:30am. He would be completing his fifth round of Munros on Skye, and that would be our second objective of a three or four-day trip. John and Gregor arrived on Thursday evening to complete the party; we shoehorned ourselves and the usual bags of walking equipment and food into my car. The weather forecast was perfect for the next four days, although the journey as far as Dalwhinnie was in the early morning cloud. By Aviemore, we were in the sunshine, and we stopped at the Tarvie cafe just before Garve, a locally run roadside halt that sells coffee and snacks at reasonable prices. 

We made it to the start of the walk by the bridge over the Abhainn Coire Mhic Nobuil by 12:30pm. The car park was full, something I had never witnessed in 7 or 8 previous visits. It was the bank holiday for the Queen's Platinum Jubilee, and ideal walking conditions provided a good excuse to escape the wall-to-wall coverage. With SUVs and camper vans so much more evident nowadays, the capacity of car parks is much reduced. We squeezed into a place a hundred metres back along the verge behind a row of other cars that had been forced out of the car park.

I had been warned that the steep climb to Beinn Dearg and the tricky south ridge made it one of the harder Corbetts, but the experienced company and weather allayed any worries. We reached 450 metres at the top of the path that follows the gap between the Horns of Alligin and Beinn Dearg and stopped for some food before starting the 400-metre, relentlessly steep slopes to Stuc Loch na Cabhaig, the northern top of Beinn Dearg. The views of Liathach, Beinn Alligin and the Flowerdale Forest were mightily impressive. We dallied for a while; days like this are for savouring, and time was on our side. 

It is an easy walk over to the summit, a drop of 70 metres to a bealach and a climb of 100 metres with Liathach, my favourite Munro, providing the backdrop. The flattish summit was bathed in the warm June sunshine, a few photos were taken, and we spent 15 minutes before Gregor set off to retrace the ascent route and climb Beinn Alligin via the Horns. Keith returned that way to the path a few minutes later to look for the sunglasses that he had lost on the ascent. 

John and I continued along the south ridge towards Beinn Eighe to sample the grade 5 scramble down three chimneys. In the warmth of the day, they provided pleasant exercise. I had wanted to continue to the end of the ridge at Carn na Feola, but John was not keen, so after passing the steepest rocky slopes, we found our way down the flank of the hill alongside a burn; it probably would have been easier to have continued to Carn na Feola to find a less leg-jarring descent. We arrived at the good path that runs alongside the burn around the back of Liathach. I had used it twice before, after climbing Liathach to reach Beinn Eighe and the magnificent Triple Buttress in Coire Mhic Fhearchair. This time it was in the opposite direction, a 5-kilometre walk back alongside the rippling burns and waterfalls on the Abhainn Coire Mhic Nobaill. We met Keith at the confluence of the two paths, unfortunately, he had not found his sunglasses. We arrived back at the car exactly as Gregor ran over the bridge, having completed the Horns of Alligin and the two Munros since he ran off the summit of Beinn Dearg. 

It was approaching 7pm, and we had a 90-minute journey to the cottage at Achmore on Loch Carron. We attempted to get a meal at Lochcarron, but the hotel bar was stowed out so we returned to cook some food. My plan on retirement had been to do another Munro round and complete a round of Corbetts> I had figured it would take 10 years, and it did for the Munros, but the Corbetts took longer. A year in Shetland, another year selling a house and building another and then Covid had diverted a lot of time. Gregor, Keith and I celebrated completing the 224 Corbetts with a beer. We would be having a long day on the Cuillin Ridge tomorrow, and agreed to make an 8 a.m. start.

Start of the Path at Torridon House

Path along Coire Mhic Nobaill

Looking east from Stob Loch na Cabhaig

The ridge to Beinn Dearg, Liathach behind

The last few steps to the Beinn Dearg summit

The rest is history

Keith and Gregor at Summit

Horns and Beinn Alligin

Liathach

John descending the chimney on the south ridge

Flowerdale Forest

Liathach

Waterfall on Abhainn Coire Mhic Nobuil

Beinn Alligin, Beinn Dearg and Liathach over Loch Torridon

 

Sail Mhor

Sail Mhor

An Teallach from Destitution Road

Suddenly, after weeks of rain, there was the prospect of high pressure bringing clear skies and warmer days. In the last couple of weeks, lots of acquaintances had been getting COVID. An old friend who had visited last Sunday had gone down with it the next day so we had spent the week isolating but had not succumbed to the virus. We decided late on Friday to take advantage of the weather and escape from home for the first time since last August. We booked a B&B in Gairloch so that I could climb my penultimate Corbett, Sail Mhor, at Dundonnell and then spend the next day coasting down the spectacular scenery of Wester Ross.

Saturday, 19 March 2022

Ascent:       868 metres
Distance:    11 kilometres
Time:          3 hours 58 minutes

Sail Mhor              767m    1hr  48mins
Ruigh Mheallain     597m    2hrs 25mins

We left home shortly after 8am for the 205-mile journey to Ardessie by Dundonell. The early morning mist had been burnt off by Perth and the A9 was virtually empty until Dalwhinnie although the parking spots for the Drumochter Munros were full with hillwalker's cars. We were treated to the very best of views, even the Monadhliath Munros looked exciting with a lacing of snow etched against the blue skies. We stopped briefly in Inverness to top up on fuel at the highest price that I have ever paid, £1.77 per litre, a far cry from 42p per gallon during the fuel crisis of 1973.

 

The final leg of the journey across the Black Isle and through Contin was equally devoid of traffic. Ben Wyvis and then the Fannaichs were capped by snow. Then An Tealach came into view arousing the usual excitement that its crenulated ridge provides. Inevitably, I had to stop to take a photo before continuing to Ardessie at the foot of the Allt Airdeasaidh (River Ardessie). There is a parking place in front of a newish hydro plant a couple of hundred metres beyond the bridge. Boots and gaiters were required for the boggy ground and river crossing, I loaded the rucksack with too many items of clothing for what was a warm day on the hills. 

It was 12:30pm as I began the walk following a newly built path from the hydro plant that climbs at the west side of the river. The normal path is at the east side but is described as boggy and it requires a tricky river crossing higher up. The path meandered up the rock-strewn slope with well-constructed stone steps and climbed steeply to 150 metres where a water intake had been built. Beyond here a path continued through the grass and heathers alongside some spectacular waterfalls that had cut deep channels in the old red sandstone. It was warm work and my fleece jacket was jettisoned to the rucksack to join the unnecessary hat, gloves, waterproof jacket and trousers. There is a broad heather-clad flatter section at 350 metres from where the normal route would be to contour round and climb to the bealach south of Sail Mhor at 530 metres. I decided to make a direct climb up the steep east face instead. 

It was a good call, although I had my doubts as I slogged up through steep heather slopes and then a loose stone gulley. Just before reaching the broad plateau below the summit, there was a band of snow to cross. I kicked steps in the very steep crystalline snow but the steps were not holding so I used my hands as surrogate ice axes to haul myself up the 30 metres of snow. I was left with the final 80 metres of ascent on gentler slopes of Torridonian sandstone. There are two cairns, the one to the northeast has a well-built shelter and is a splendid viewpoint, this is where I had some lunch and gorged on the amazing views. To the northwest, the Summer Isles were visible over a sparkling Loch Broom, as was Mellon Udrigle on Gruinard Bay where Aileen had gone for a walk on the beach and headland, and to the south-east, An Teallach and the magical Fisherfield mountains were revealed from an angle that I had not seen before.

 

I walked over to the smaller cairn, which is probably slightly higher and then headed due south for the bealach. I had only walked a hundred metres or so when a golden eagle appeared 50 metres ahead of me and no more than 20 metres above the ground, I ripped off my gloves and grabbed the phone for a photo but the eagle was already a few hundred metres away and gliding upwards to another golden eagle. Within a minute they had disappeared towards An Teallach. Excitement over I dropped to the bealach and given that I was slightly ahead of schedule decided to climb Ruigh Mheallain, a hill that provides the perfect viewing spot for An Teallach and the two Beinn Dearg Corbetts. It was another good decision, it only requires 80 metres of climbing. The summit, littered with huge red sandstone blocks, allowed me to spend another ten minutes gazing into a wonderland of favourite mountains.

 

The diversion meant I had to put on my skates to return for my lift, it was an easy 2-kilometre descent to the river crossing. A Ring Ouzel was perched on a boulder in the river and grabbed my attention. With the aid of two walking poles, I managed to cross the river with dry feet although this was probably due to Goretex gaiters. The path at the other side was as boggy as had been described and after stopping to watch a Stonechat I came upon a recent landslip that had wiped out the path for a few hundred metres. The final descent alongside the impressive waterfalls was steep, boggy and twisty so I was 15 minutes late getting back to the car. 

 

So this was it, only one Corbett left to complete the 224 Scottish hills between 2500 and 3000 feet. I had climbed eighty or so during my previous Munro rounds but over the past few years, climbing the Corbetts has become the prime objective. Their comparative isolation, they are required to have a 500 feet drop between their summits, and the absence of paths on many of them make them possibly harder than the Munros to climb. I am left with just Beinn Dearg to climb. It is the highest Corbett at 2999 feet and is located at the heart of the Torridon mountains, a worthy final summit.

The final treat of the day was still ahead of us, an empty road past Gruinard Bay, Loch Ewe, Poolewe and on to Gairloch with blue skies and superb visibility to the Western Isles. And then the good fortune to discover that our B&B in a recently built croft overlooked Loch Gairloch with Beinn Alligin and Beinn Dearg visible from the bedroom. As an antidote to a miserable winter, this trip was exceeding all expectations.

Looking towards An Teallach on the ascent

Sail Mhor, head for the bands of snow

Sail Mhor from east

Sail Mhor summit

Fisherfield from Sail Mhor

Golden Eagle

Beinn Dearg- Mhor and Bheag

An Teallach from Ruigh Mheallain

Sail Mhor from Ruigh Mheallain

Sgurr Fiona and Lord Berkeley's Seat

Waterfalls on the Allt Airdeasaidh