KYQ4

Monday, 17 June 2013

Les Alpilles, Saint-Remy de Provence

Van Gogh's Mont Gaussier

Mont Gaussier from the hotel

The summit path

Mont Gaussier

Ladder to the summit platform

Looking north over Saint-Remy to Avignon

The final pitch to the right of the cave

View of Saint-Remy from the summit

The summit along a 3 metre wide ridge

Meadow by the Asylum

A few years ago, I happened upon Les Alpilles whilst visiting the Van Gogh museum at Saint-Remy. Van Gogh lived in the asylum and painted in his studio, a former cell, and in the surrounding grounds. The location was the inspiration for many of his most acclaimed works, he produced over 150 paintings and drawings during his stay at the asylum. I was so taken by the limestone hills behind the museum that we returned a week or so later and I spent a day exploring the Alpilles and then having a morning run up Mont Gaussier, the most impressive limestone pinnacle that overlooks the town. I returned this week for the fourth time.

A night in Saint-Remy is a pleasure in itself but there is no finer way to start any day than by running along the road to Glanum beside the massive plane trees that were the subject of Van Gogh's painting, 'The Road Menders'. From the museum there is a meadow to cross, then a trail past the Glanum site of Roman antiquities before snaking up the dry valley through cypress and pine trees. The trail steepens towards a col where you take a sharp right turn into the pine trees and follow a meandering path into the maquis below Mont Gaussier. Although only 307 metres high, it is the most spectacular of summits. The path arrives at a steeply raking iron ladder and above this, there is a fine narrow limestone platform that leads towards a final pitch of climbing to reach the summit. I was a bit daunted by the climb but the knowledge that I had managed it on three previous occasions spurred me on and, despite flexible running shoes, there was a good grip on the limestone, although it was crumbling in places.

The views back to Saint-Remy are spectacular and all around the plains of Provence disappear into the hues of summer haze. I gave myself five minutes to absorb the mesmeric views and then began the run down. It was still early and the heat had yet to build up. The meadows at the foot of the slopes were alive with insects and butterflies and the mile or so back down the road to the town centre was an exercise in avoiding the tree roots of the plane trees as well as the traffic. I had made it in just under an hour, excluding the glorious dream at the summit. Hopefully, it will not be the last run-up of this superb architecture of nature. Even Van Gogh failed to capture its full inspirational character although he did pull this off with the roadmenders.

The roadmenders

Sunday, 9 June 2013

Four Brothers and Five Sisters of Kintail

Sunset over Skye from below Sgurr Carnach

A midday to midday excursion over the Four Brothers and Five Sisters of Kintail including a balmy summer's night sleeping between the third and fourth Sisters.

Wednesday, 5 June 2013

Ascent: 2110 metres

Distance: 18 kilometres

Time: 8 hours 4 minutes

m Ciste Dhubh 979m 2hrs 4mins

t Sgurr an Fhuarail 987m 3hrs 32mins

m Aonach Meadhoin 1001m 3hrs 46mins

m Sgurr a' Bhealaich Dheirg 1036m 4hrs 34mins

m Saileag 956m 5hrs 20mins

t Sgurr nan Spainteach 990m 6hrs 41mins

m Sgurr na Ciste Duibhe 1027m 7hrs 29mins

The forecasts looked good for the next two days so I packed a rucksack and headed off first thing on Wednesday to catch the 914 bus from Crianlarich up to Cluanie. It was cloudy but still with the promise of a sunny evening ahead. The bus stops at Fort William for 20 minutes which coincided with the steam train to Mallaig pulling out of the station pulled by an LNER B1 locomotive. There were more people taking photographs than passengers. The thought of clattering over the Glenfinnan viaduct and skirting the magical coastline to Mallaig was an added incentive to making this trip one day but preferably pulled by a Stanier Class 5.

Despite the clouds, the day was warm and on alighting at the Cluanie Inn just before noon I simply crossed the road and started up the track that runs up the glen below the Corbett, Am Bathach. I made for the bealach at 600 metres where I dropped my rucksack before going out and back to the impressive hulk of Ciste Dubh. There are steep grassy slopes for the first 150 metres of ascent and then a good path cutting under an outlying crag before following the ridge to an airy summit. A pair of ptarmigan walked me away from their young during the ascent. The summit gave good views but most of the hills were looking sombre under a layer of thick cloud and rain threatened from the northeast.

Returning to the bealach and my rucksack I had some lunch before starting the unrelenting steep slopes up to Sgurr an Fuarail. It was hot work with the added weight of the rucksack including a couple of litres of water. Just before I reached the top I noticed that a party of four were following me up, this nudged me along to the summit of Aonach Meadhoin which is just an 80-metre drop and climb along the ridge. Rain was threatening and a breeze was getting up so I swapped my wind top for my Goretex jacket.

It is a long walk over to Sgurr a' Bhealach Dheirg, the highest of the Brothers, by the time I reached the summit I could see the 4 walkers arriving on Aonach Meadhoin. The large cairn sits out on a ridge to the north. Looking back from here the glens were filling with clouds and I began to wonder what had happened to the good forecasts. There were quite a few slabs of snow along the ridge before the descent to the bealach before Saileag. Saileag is a quiet hill and mainly memorable for being the occasion when my then 12 years old raced John and I to the summit. On a subsequent round in his early twenties, he managed the 250-metre ascent from Bealach an Lapan in 11 minutes. Even my descent today took twenty minutes although I was beginning to slow as the sun burnt its way through the clouds at last and began to make shadow play with the Five Sisters.

It is a long haul over the stony ridge to Sgurrnan Spainteach but the views were getting better all the time. I kept going until reaching the untidy summit cairn of Sgurr na Ciste Duibhe. The descent from here was was tricky with rocks and some slippy grass areas where the snow had recently melted. I headed for the bealach and then dropped to a green swathe about 50 metres below and faced west to the setting sun. No burns were visible but when I heard the water from a sinkhole I stopped and pitched the tent on a grassy ledge that gave me one of the grandest evening views I have ever witnessed.

I topped up with water, had a large pan of green tea and then macaroni cheese flavoured by a packet of mild curry lentil soup. It was a culinary triumph. I heard the bleating of goats overhead and three mountain goats were on the top of a nearby rock face looking down at me. I spent an hour sitting in front of the tent watching the sun pass over Skye and then set over Harris. I was reluctant to turn in but as the light faded I succumbed to sleep just hoping that the goats did not eat my shoes.

Fort William: the Mallaig steam excursion

Five Sisters from Ciste Dhubh

Ciste Dhubh

Some of the Five Sisters from Aonach Meadhoin

Sgurr a' Bhealaich Dheirg cairn

Five Sisters from Sgurr a' Bhealach Dheirg

Looking back to cloud skirted Ciste Dhubh from Sgurr a' Bhealach Dheirg

South Shiel ridge from Saileag

Sundown from the Five Sisters

Thursday 6 June 2013

Ascent: 510 metres
Distance: 8 km
Time: 3hrs 31mins

m Sgurr na Carnach 1002m 27mins
m Sgurr Fhuaran 1067m 1hr 7mins
t Sgurr nan Saighead 929m 1hr 53mins

It had been a comfortable night sleeping above the midge level. The views on opening the tent were of the North-Western Highlands in all their glory. The Skye ridge looked like a giant rip saw and the Saddle was a stone's throw across Glen Shiel. I had a brew and waited for the sun to hit the tent before packing and setting off at about 7:20am. First, a climb back up to the bealach watched over by the mountain goats and then taking the path up to Sgurr na Carnach. The skies were cloudless and there was a feeling of great privilege to be the only person enjoying the very best of days on this magnificent roller coaster of mountains.

I spent time on both of the Munro summits dazzled by the vistas in all directions and only reluctantly departed from Sgurr Fhuaran after 9am to make certain of catching the bus at 11:45am. There were patches of snow near the summit and Gleann Lichd looked inviting unlike the slopes of Beinn Fhada which looked as steep and unforgiving as I remember from a couple of occasions when I was naive enough to tackle them from the south-west as recommended by Irvine Butterfield. It is probably the only occasion that I have ever taken issue with his routes.

There is a steep descent of 250 metres to a ridge which leads along to the next climb up Sgurr nan Saighead. I undercut the top and dropped my rucksack before climbing the 80 metres to the top. I then headed down the ridge from Beinn Bhuidhe to reach the Allt a' Chruinn, passing the first walker of the day on his ascent at about 600 metres. I followed the path down to sea level at Ault a' chruinn, and sunbathed on the green land next to the Jac-O-Bite cafe, where I have feasted after many long walks in Glen Shiel over the years. Today it was a case of waiting for the 914 bus. It was slightly late but as always it was a scenic and relaxing journey back to Fort William, where there was time to grab some food and then after meeting the Geddes, I hopped back on the bus to Crianlarich where I had left the car. I was home in time to replace my phone and then attend a function in the evening in Stirling.

Good morning Highlands

View from the tent on waking

Sgurr Fuaran from Sgurr Carnach

The Saddle and Beinn Sgritheall

Loch Duich

Sgurr nan Saighead from Sgurr Fuaran

The Skye ridge from Sgurr Fhuran summit

Looking back to Sgurr Fhuaran

Sunday, 2 June 2013

Parklife

Living in a National Park means that I have not frequented urban parks very much in the last 25 years. When living in Glasgow I ran in Pollok Grounds or Queens Park most days and took the children there at weekends. I had forgotten how important parks are for city dwellers until spending time in London this year. I find the bustle and noise of urban living drains your energy. Parklife restores your perspective and makes you part of a wider community also in search of the elixir of urban life.

Brockwell Park

Where Have All the Good Times Gone - Rye obviously

Heathrow queues over Kew

Avenues at Kew Gardens

Inside the Palm House

The Lake from the Palm House

Tree Diversity

Water Lily Pond

Thames at Kew

Strutting his stuff

My visits to London over the years were usually limited to an overnight stay before a meeting or conference. I would manage an early morning run around Hyde Park to settle me down for the day ahead. More recently my visits have been longer and I have enjoyed the opportunity to visit many of the parks south of the Thames. Last week I managed four visits to Brockwell Park, two to Dulwich Park and also a visit to Peckham Rye during the 5 days I was there.

It was early summer, the weather was good on most days and I was mightily impressed by how well that the parks are maintained by the cash strapped councils with a huge variety of facilities, activities and events for thousands of local people. I managed to join in two Park Runs on the Saturday morning as I did a long circuit of Brockwell and Dulwich parks. But Parklife is a lot more than the joggers who go round and round and round. Its about all the people. so many people: the fitness boot camp squads, the dog walkers, the cyclists, the kite flyers, the babies in prams, the toddlers, the rich and poor, feeding the ducks, the birds, the fairgrounds, the circus, the peace gardens, the playgrounds and the lidos. Park life is just as important and far better at creating well-being than any shopping therapy. Parks elevate the mood and release endorphins, they embrace all ages and cultures and create a common community; shopping just costs time and money and breeds greed and envy.

Kew Gardens was the star attraction with its outstanding displays and walks through a global botany lesson. It made for a great day out with the next generation of the family, she yelled at the trees and slept. The only blight was the queue of aircraft descending on the Heathrow landing path. It meant that the superb displays of early summer blooms were accompanied by a noise level that Londoners seem inured to but which is an impediment to relaxation for those of us not tuned in to urban tinnitus.

Can I go home now

Friday, 31 May 2013

Fisherfield Five plus One

Ruadh Stac Mor and A' Mhaighdean

The Fisherfield Five, as we now must call them following the unfortunate relegation of Beinn a' Chlaidhemh from Munro status last year, provide one of the longest days in any Munro round. I had previously climbed them twice in each direction starting from the Shenaval Bothy or from wild camps after a first day driving up and climbing An Teallach. I had two near-perfect days in 1990 and 1995 and one glorious morning in 2005 that erupted into a fierce and prolonged downpour in the late afternoon. The other occasion was when I took Gregor, my teenage son, in 2001 and after climbing An Teallach on the way in, a fierce gale and an overnight downpour forced us to spend the night in a cave at the bealach between Ruadh Stac Mor and A' Mhaighdean. I was under no delusion that even in good weather this would be a long and tough day in this mountain nirvana.

Fisherfield is a very special place as I was told when I met the late W.H. Murray in 1995 at the premiere of the film Rob Roy at what is now the Golden Jubilee Hospital in Clydebank. He had written the book on which the film was based and when I told him at the book signing that I was going to Fisherfield the next morning, he apologised to the queue behind me. He then regaled me with his tales of Shenaval, An Teallach and Beinn Dearg Mhor, all of them his favourite haunts. He urged me to climb Beinn Dearg Mhor as well as An Teallach and the Fisherfield six munros. We managed them all in two long hard days including the drive up. He was a remarkable character, a doyen of Scottish Mountaineers, talented writer and he was right about Beinn Dearg Mhor which remains one of my favourite Corbetts. This was to be my fifth jaunt around these wonderful and remote mountains.

Thursday 30 May 2013

Ascent: 2655 metres
Distance: 28 kilometres
Time: 13 hours 2 minutes

m Ruadh Stac Mor 918m 1hr 59mins
m A' Mhaighdean 967m 3hrs 18mins
m Beinn Tarsuinn 937m 5hrs 29mins
m Mullach Mhic Fhearchair 1018m 6hrs 44mins
m Sgurr Ban 969m 7hrs 21mins
c Beinn a' Chaisgein Mor 856m 11hrs 47mins

I was with my old hill running partner, Keith, we had made a late start after he drove to my house. We had left home at noon the previous day and made a 4pm start for the long walk in from Poolewe to Carnmore. We climbed the Corbett of Beinn Airigh Charr on the way, and after pitching the tents and making a late meal we had not turned in until 11:30pm. It was 9am before we set out from the tents in the morning mist. As we climbed the stalker's path from Carnmore up to the Lochan we emerged from the mist at about 400 metres and the entire collection of Fisherfield mountains loomed into view. It was a magical reunion with what must surely be Scotland's wildest and most remote mountains.

The track up to the bealach between Ruadh Stac Mor and A' Mhaighdean is well-graded and at the top, we dumped our rucksacks and headed up the steep scree slopes of Ruadh Stac Mor. We followed a faint path through the rocks until we reached the higher slopes when a more discernable path through the scree was followed. The red sandstone provides a good grip and we were on the summit in no time. We could see a party of four on the summit of A' Mhaighdean and the views to Beinn Dearg Mhor and An Teallach provided a scintillating backdrop to the north. This was a day to stop and loiter on summits. We did so all day, we were maybe a little too complacent about our ability to get around all of Fisherfield in a day now we were in our sixties

We descended through the rock and scree to the bealach where I located the cave where Gregor and I had once spent an uncomfortable night in gale-force winds and rain. I had had to erect the tent inside the cave to keep the water off us and it was sheer bloody-mindedness that drove us around the Fisherfield six that day. The steep climb up to A' Mhaighdean today was a jaunt into magical mountainscapes. When we reached the summit, possibly with the finest views of all Munros we decided to take a break in the sun for half an hour to soak in the views over a leisurely lunch, something that we never normally entertain. There is a long easy descent down an open meadow to the bealach. We were able to top up with water before tackling the next three munros.

The climb up Beinn Tarsuinn (or in the other direction the climb up A' Mhaighdean) is the spoiler of the Fisherfield hills. The views are hidden, the ground is mainly bog and heather and it is a 400-metre uphill slog in either direction. The summit ridge is a different matter, it is airy with great views and provides an easy and enjoyable scramble. The summit is a balcony for panoramas that eclipse almost anywhere else: the Torridons, Slioch, Fisherfield, An Teallach and the sublime Beinn Dearg Mhor. I finished my food and we set out for the descent and then undercut the outlier of Meall Garbh before starting the steep and relentless ascent of Mullach Mhic Fhearchair. Keith went out to take in the eastern tops, he always climbs all Munro tops, even those that have been deleted. My own objective was to climb the remote Corbett of Beinn a' Chaisgein Mor at the end of the day, so we had agreed to split at this point.

I wasted no time and descended the white powdery, rocky and steep path before climbing the slightly easier path to the pile of rocks that goes under the name of Sgurr Ban. As I reached the summit I could see Keith summiting on Mullach. There was no sense in waiting as Keith was going to take in the deleted Munro, Beinn a' Chlaidheimh, so I started the descent down the huge area of quartzite blocks before deciding that there must be a better way and took a direct route for Loch a'Bhrisidh. There were still some snow patches and beyond that a combination of large blocks and heather that was hard on the feet and legs and even more so on the concentration. It continued in this vein for 500 metres of descent all the way down to Gleann na Muice but with peat bogs added to the cocktail of difficult ground conditions.

Wading the river was a reward: cool feet and then, at the other side, more accommodating grassy slopes leading to a bealach northeast of Rudh Stac Beag at 524 metres. From here the views of Beinn Dearg Mhor were mesmerising and An Teallach was not bad either. I dropped down to 425 metres to reach the stalker's path and then climbed steadily until reaching the couple of lochans from where I began a long ascent over convex slopes which went on for several kilometres until I reached the summit of Beinnn a'Chaisgein Mor at about 9pm. It was a memorable evening with clear visibility of Scotland's finest mountains and wonderful sea views came into play. Beinn Lair looked most impressive and this was on the menu for the next morning. I was relieved that after another wonderful day in Fisherfield, it would take less than an hour to reach the tent

I resisted returning by the same route, time was getting late, and I figured that I could descend by a steep gulley to Carnmore if the Harvey Map was right and the rock faces were on only one side of the burn. It was not an easy descent but I was down at the tent which was visible below just before 10pm. Keith had not arrived back so I presumed that he must have decided to climb the Corbett as well. I had finished my supper and was ready to turn in on a benign evening when Keith arrived at the back at 11pm. He had indeed done the Corbett and completed a 14-hour stint on the hills. Fisherfield exhausts as much as it inspires, sleep was calling.