Knoydart's Eleven Munros

Loch Hourn from Ladhar Bheinn

A long weekend on the Eleven Knoydart Munros

Ascent:     7410 metres
Distance:   80 kilometres
Time:         35 hours 29 minutes

This is written more than 25 years after the walk. I recently obtained some scanned photos of the outing. Re-reading my logbook with the photos confirmed what I have always thought: this was one of the very best long walks. It was one of the vital adventures in compleating the first round of Munros. The walk was with Keith Adams, a hill running partner, and John Wilson, with whom I climbed 214 of the then 277 Munros.

John and I were nearing the compleation of our first Munro round, and we planned our May walking week with an optimism that had become bolder each year as we banished any thought of failure. We aimed to climb the 11 Munros in Knoydart and then drive to Skye and climb our remaining 11 Skye Munros before taking in the Aonach Eagach ridge on the way home. Keith Adams would join us for most of the trip, and Alan would come later in the week, whilst we were on Skye. John drove up from Selkirk on Friday afternoon. I left work early, collected my already packed gear from home and picked up John at Blairgarry in the Saab. We planned to drive up to Tomdoun in Glen Garry and stay at the bunkhouse for the first night. We left at 3:30pm and gave a lift to a lumberjack who was returning home to Fort William after a week's work at Strathyre. He regaled us with stories about the life of a freelance forestry worker since the Forestry Commission had outsourced these operations. It typified all the disadvantages that outsourcing has brought for workers: long hours, difficult conditions, away from home, living in a caravan, few employment benefits and low pay.

We reached the Tomdoun Hotel at 6:30pm and managed to book into the bunkhouse. We decided to take a flyer for the week's walking and to climb Gleouraich and Spidean Mialach before nightfall. It would save us having to climb them at the end of the Knoydart round. We would be able to cook something late on; it was unlikely we would get any food in the hotel, it was a fisherman's bar, and drinking was the main pursuit.


Friday 21 May 1993

Ascent:       1160 metres
Distance:    11 kilometres
Time:          3hrs 28mins

Gleouraich                                   1035m     1hr  14mins
Craig Coire na Fiar Bhealaich     1006m     1hr  35mins
Spidean Mialach                            996m     2hrs 14mins  

We dumped some stuff in the bunkhouse to safeguard our bunks and drove 9 miles up the road to park alongside Loch Quoich at the start of the good stalker's path to Gleouraich. It was 7pm before we started walking in overcast and cool conditions with the cloud level down to 500 metres. The path zig-zags its way up the steep south ridge to 840 metres and then drops to a col before it steepens again, leading to the impressive west ridge to the cairn. It is a speedy route, and we pushed ourselves hard to the summit in less than an hour and a quarter.

We disturbed the odd ptarmigan as we crossed to Creag Coire na Fiar Bhealaich, the east top of Gleouraich. There is a 250-metre drop to the bealach and a similar climb to the western top of Spidean Mialach. We had to negotiate a false top, and a compass bearing was needed to regain the ridgeline and work our way out to the summit. Time was tight; it was 9:30pm, and there was poor visibility in the clouds, so we wasted no time, took another bearing and started the steep and jarring descent to the southwest.

As we emerged from the cloud, we were north of Loch Fearna, so we tacked west over some moraines to eventually reach the boggy path. It was a muddy tramp back in fading light, but the path takes a direct route back to the road, emerging a few hundred metres east of where we had parked the car. We made it back to the bothy just before 11pm and had some soup before turning in. The walk had been a tasty aperitif for the days ahead.

Spidean Mialach and Gleouraich from the South Cluanie Ridge

Saturday, 22 May 1993

Ascent:      2620 metres
Distance:   28 kilometres
Time:         12 hours 45 minutes

m  Gairich                           919m     2hrs 27mins
c   Sgurr an Fhuarain          901m     4hrs 57mins
m  Sgurr Mor                     1003m    6hrs   3mins
m  Sgurr nan Coireachan     953m    8hrs 36mins
t    Garbh Chioch Bheag      968m    
m  Garbh Chioch Mor        1013m   10hrs 10mins
m  Sgurr na Ciche              1040m   10hrs 58mins      

We awoke to blue skies and tremendous views of Knoydart from Tomdoun. We had arranged to meet Keith by the dam at 9am, and as we drove out of the bunkhouse, Keith was driving up the road. We parked by the dam and I suggested that I should drive my car to the foot of Sgurr a' Mhaoraich 4 miles up Loch Quoich. This would allow John and me to make a clockwise circuit around the remaining 9 Knoydart Munros and finish on Sgurr a' Mhaoraich on Monday. Keith followed me along to collect me as he intended to climb some Corbetts in Knoydart on the second day and would be returning to the dam. We packed food and equipment for 2 nights camping, so it was 10am when we crossed the dam and began the big adventure. There was now some cloud cover, but the mountains were still visible in all their enticing glory.

Gairich is an interminable climb with a very boggy path for the first couple of kilometres until Bealach na Faire, the start of the long ridge that climbs westwards to Gairich. This was easier going, even with heavier packs than we normally carried; we were prepared for rain that always seems to be the vanilla weather in Knoydart. The final kilometre is a lot steeper, but we were still fresh and made the summit before 12:30pm, where we had some lunch and took photos. It was too early in the day to be worried about the time.

We continued over Gairich Beag before dropping into a remote glen at an altitude of 350 metres. From here it was a long slog up to Sgurr an Fhuarain, a Corbett that rises to 901 metres. It is the start of a graceful, flowing ridge that, after another substantial drop, rises to Sgurr Mor. We ate some snow to preserve our water supplies and looked across to Sgurr na Ciche, which seemed a long way, and it was already 4pm. It is a real roller coaster from here with two sizeable hills, Sgurr Beag and An Eag, to traverse before the climb to Sgurr na n Coireachan; together they add another 600 metres of ascent. We had some food and rehydrated; it was getting late, but brighter, and we were tiring after walking 12 hours in the last 24 hours.

It is a steep drop down to Bealach Coire nan Gall and an even steeper rocky climb to Garbh Chioch Beag. The evening was still and warm as we walked along the splendid ridge to Garbh Chioch Mhor. We were passed by a golden eagle gliding just metres above the ridge. Ahead, we were transfixed by the sugar-loaf-shaped summit of Sgurr na Ciche. The drop-down from Garbh Chioch Mhor is steep alongside a magnificent stone wall. And then the steep climb to Sgurr na Ciche from the bealach at Feadan na Ciche. We powered up the final climb of the day. I had yearned to climb Sgurr na Ciche ever since I first caught sight of it twenty years ago. It was almost 9pm as we reached the summit, a true peaky Macpeak with superb views in all directions. We now needed to find somewhere to camp for the night, preferably down in the glen with a burn nearby.

We headed for the footbridge over the river Carnoch and set off south-west down a long ridge to Druim a' Ghoirtein, from where we followed a gorge down to the flood plain. It was 10:30pm before we had found a pitch for the tents; it was still light as we turned in after the long day, well pleased with the progress made and well-positioned for another big day.

Crossing the dam at Loch Quoich

Lunch on Gairich

Loch Quoich with Sgurr a' Mhaoraich from Gairich

Sgurr an Fhuarain from Gairich Beag

On Sgurr Mor looking towards Sgurr na Ciche

Sunday 23 May 1993

Ascent:       2240 metres
Distance:    26 kilometres
Time:          13hours 5minutes

t     Meall Buidhe -south-east top     942m      2hrs 30mins
m   Meall Buidhe                              946m      2hrs 42mins
m   Luinne Bheinn                            939m      4hrs 43mins
t     Luinne Bheinn - east top            937m      4hrs 50mins
m   Ladhar Bheinn                           1020m     8hrs 51mins
t     Stob a' Choire Odhair                  960m     9hrs 30mins

After a restful night when there had been some rain, we awoke to bright blue skies and a midge-free breakfast before packing and starting to walk at 9:00am. It was just 15 minutes to the bridge at Carnoch, and then we began the steady climb up the well-used path by the Allt Carnach to Mam Meadail. The glen was full of bird life, with cuckoos providing a soundtrack. We passed an Irishman near the bealach who was on his way from Inverie to climb Ben Aden. At the bealach, we bade farewell to Keith, who was to climb the Corbett, Beinn Bhuidhe and then head back via Sgurr na h-Aide and Carn Mor, two of the remotest Corbetts and then descend to Glen Desarry and over to Glen Kinghorn to return to his car at the dam. It would possibly be a longer and harder outing than our remaining four Munros.

John and I struck up the fierce southern slopes of Meall Buidhe, which is one of those mind-numbing slogs, but we made good progress by following a series of ramps between the rock outcrops. We dumped our rucksacks at the south-east top and made a quick sortie over to the summit. After a break for some food and water, we began the long and complex walk to Luinne Bheinn. The magnificent metamorphic rock formations of Morar Schists made the walk a pleasure on a warm and sunny day. We made another direct ascent to the summit of Luinne Bheinn up steep grassy ramps from the bealach at Allt a' Choire Odhair. We made a trip across to the nearby top and back before stopping for a leisurely lunch in unusually clement conditions. There had been 14 people on the summit just before we arrived on what is acknowledged as one of the most difficult to reach Munros.

The descent by the steep N.W. ridge to Bachd Mhic an Tosaich brought us to Mam Barrisdale at 450 metres. The climb from here to Stob a' Chearcaill in the late afternoon heat was the hardest part of the walk; we were beginning to tire, and the boggy grass slopes held no interest. We reached the high point of the ridge, and there was a large patch of snow. We both stripped down to our underpants and took a roll in the snow. It was the perfect way to prepare for the wonderful walk along the roller coaster of a ridge to Ladhar Bheinn. Conditions were superb until just before we reached the summit, when the threat of rain probably forced us to curtail our visit. The summit of Ladhar Bheinn is one of the outstanding memories of any Munro round.

Time was now at a premium, so we followed the narrow ridge down to Stob Choire Odhair and then descended to Coire Dhorrcail and eventually hit the footpath that meanders down to the braided tidal flats at Barrisdale. We wended our way across the channels and reached the bothy at 8:30pm, where we cooked a meal and chatted to other walkers. The others were surprised when we left just before 10:00pm to walk part of the way back to Kinloch Hourn. As darkness approached, we found a beautiful pitch for the tent at Caolas Mor under a stand of pine trees. Another spectacular day, and Knoydart was virtually completed.

Campsite below Sgurr na Ciche

Looking back to Luinne Bheinn

Me heading up to Ladhar Bheinn

John on Ladhar Bheinn

Monday, 23 May 1993

Ascent:       1400 metres
Distance:    16 kilometres
Time:          6 hours 11 minutes

t     Sgurr a' Mhaoraich Beag   948m     4hrs 11mins
m   Sgurr a' Mhaoraich           1026m    4hrs 28mins

It was a glorious morning on one of the best campsites with a spectacular view across Loch Hourn to Caolas Mor. I cast covetous glances at the lonely croft across the loch. Was it occupied? Would it be a good place to live? On a day like today, nowhere could be so enticing. We had tentatively arranged to meet Keith at about 1pm back at the dam, so we made an early start at 7:15am. It was 8 kilometres along the undulating and twisty path along the shores of Loch Hourn to reach Kinloch Hourn. It includes a couple of small hills that add about 250 metres of ascent. In the early morning light, it was staggeringly beautiful.

When we reached the bend in the road where the Lochbourn River joins the Allt Coire Sgoireadail, we stopped for a break, some drink and food. We continued up the road for a kilometre and then followed a Hydro-Electric track that skirted around a hill and began the ascent of the Allt Ban. There was no option other than to hammer up the ferociously steep slopes to Sgurr Mhaoraich Beag from here, although we did find an old stalker's path that climbed to 700 metres. It is an easy and pleasant stroll over to Sgurr a' Mhaoraich. There was a strong easterly breeze that meant that, despite the bright sunshine, it was cool enough for hard walking.

We were on the last leg and had relaxed a bit until we came to a tricky section of the path that was still covered by hard-packed snow between some crags. We had no protection, so we inched our way down. Thereafter, it was a good descent along the ridge to Sgurr Coire nan Eiricheallach and then a schuss down the long grassy slopes to Loch Quoich. We drove back to the dam at the head of Loch Quoich and had a shower in the waterfall by the roadside. Keith had not yet arrived, so we drove over to the Cluanie Inn to see if Alan had appeared. It was another no-show, so we had a drink and drove on to Skye and to pitch the tent in Glen Brittle, ready for the Inn Pin tomorrow. Keith arrived later in the evening, but there was no show from Alan. The forecast was good for tomorrow so we decided on an early start to climb the In Pinn.

Campsite on Loch Hourn

Loch Hourn with Ladhar Bheinn in background

Sgurr Mhaoraich summit

2020 Vision Cancelled

Elmo, Lord Buckethead and Boris Johnson at the count

I was humming "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" as an antidote to Boris Johnson's landslide victory achieved on an empty manifesto, a spurious slogan "get Brexit done", duplicity and a chutzpa born of privilege. I was asked by my family, "What will happen next?" The correct answer is "fuck knows". I have been too absorbed in politics since being recruited as child labour to deliver leaflets at election time and edit letters to the local newspaper. I then spent 40 years working for and with politicians and was able to observe the good, bad and ugly sides of politicians. During my final 14 years, I was a returning officer, which gave me an insider view of who votes and how political parties game-play elections. This knowledge makes it doubly difficult to understand the reasons why people do or don't vote and for whom, if they do.

I watched agog as Michael Gove, on the morning after the election, acted as compere for the victory speech by Boris Johnson as the newly elected prime minister. Gove oozed sanctimonious and deprecating insults at other parties in his inimitable style before handing over to the PM. Boris Johnson uttered various promises about governing for all the people before, in a performance that was more suited to 'Live at the Apollo' as he reprised his eclectic vocabulary and phrases randomly as he waffled on. It transpired that the new slogan for his government would be 'the people’s government', a fulfilment that is as likely as him serving a full term. 

With just 44% of the turnout vote or 29% of the electorate, we would be leaving the EU and spending the next few years haggling about trade deals, and immigration, pretending that the Irish Border is both there and not there,  trying to stall a Scottish referendum and making numerous announcements about investments in the north that amount no more than a fraction of the losses they have sufffered over the past decade.

Meanwhile, the Labour Party seems intent on indulging in another bout of fratricide. Changes that have been evident and needed for the past couple of years will be resisted. The broad church that everyone proclaims to want will have to wait until the tribal party officials inside and outside Labour HQ have finished genuflecting on Corbyn and alternative idols. Their claim that they won the arguments is derisible; they fudged the main issues like Brexit and produced a list of promises that was beyond the belief of the electorate and most of their candidates. They were reduced to fighting the election with half a dozen MPs who were either unreconstructed Corbynites or members of his shadow cabinet, like Keir Starmer, whose advocacy of a second referendum could be blamed if things did not go well.

So, despite being faced with potentially the worst post-war UK government in a very strong field of nominations, the opposition parties failed miserably to convince an electorate that agreed on one thing: our politicians are not to be trusted.

At a time when the UK should be setting a clear vision for the future as we approach the year 2020, we are bereft of any idea of where this will end. How will Brexit play out? Is Austerity finally over? Are we serious about climate change when we have stopped subsidising green energy and refuse to tax carbon fuels? How are we to reduce child poverty? When and how are we to provide adequate care for the elderly and vulnerable? Where are the new houses to be built to provide for young people and families who have been trapped in the iniquities of private renting? When will the government start a programme of levelling down to facilitate the levelling up that they promise to deliver?

The UK is destined to level down against other nations unless it becomes honest with its citizens and creates a written constitution. The farrago of the last Parliament was all the evidence needed to tell us that our make-it-up-as-you-go-along constitution is long past its sell-by date. A new constitution should empower local democracy and vastly reduce the overbearing centralisation that dominates UK decision-making and stagnates the innovation that exists in all its communities. Parliament also needs to recognise that collaboration with other nations is the only way to effectively tackle the most important issues of climate change, trade, poverty, health and international aid. Think globally, act locally is as apposite now as when Patrick Geddes, the Scottish town planner and polymath, first coined the concept in 1915.  

West Mamores on St Andrew's Day

Sgurr a' Mhaim

Saturday 30 November 2019

Ascent:     1664 metres

Distance:  16 kilometres

Time:        6 hours 54 minutes

Sgurr a' Mhaim            1099m     2hrs 15mins

Stob Ban                        999m     4hrs 10mins

  top                                917m     5hrs   4mins

Mullach nan Coirean     927m     5hrs  28mins

It was a given day, the hardest overnight frost of the winter, not a wisp of wind and visibility that was better than excellent. Gregor had three remaining Munros of the Mamores to climb and I was just keen to take advantage of the forecast for some winter hillwalking. We left at 7:15am and made good time to Fort William, which included a stop on Rannoch Moor to try and capture the monochromatic winter conditions at sunrise. We parked at Achriabhach in Glen Nevis and started the walk at 9:45am. The glen was still in shadow with the steep profile of Sgurr a' Mhaim, the second-highest of the 10 Munros in the Mamores, threatening a couple of hours of hard exercise.

There was surprisingly little snow, although as we climbed higher the head of Ben Nevis looked like it had been washed in Omo set against the clear azure sky. The ground was rock hard but there were a few patches of black ice. The path is scored deeply into the steep slope but it was possible to keep an ascent pace of 10 metres a minute without overexerting. Gregor was pushing on ahead, although we would both stop occasionally to take photos as the skies brightened and the shadows shortened. I took a couple of detours to try and capture views of the Grey Corries and the Aonachs but I needn't have bothered they were revealed in all their glory at the summit.

We met a man from Selkirk at the summit who knew John, he was walking alone with his dog and had approached via the Devil's ridge and was to return by the same route. We chatted for a while and when he left I had a quick bite and some coffee, it was gone midday and Gregor was itching to get going in the freezing air. I had been slightly anxious about the Devil's ridge in winter conditions but the light snow cover made it easier if anything. There is a scramble at the low point, there are some narrow ledges that can be easily climbed even in mitts. We reached the end of the ridge below Sgurr an Iubhair, the deleted Munro, and followed the path that zig-zags down to Lochan Coire nam Miseach. It was frozen hard, the cracked ice magnified the pebbles and stones through the crystal clear water making it appear like a giant paper weight.

Above us was the magnificent east face of Stob Ban, the best of the Mamore Munros but a 250-metre climb from the lochan. At first by a gently undulating path and then steepening into a rocky scramble through the chunks of quartzite. It holds your concentration so time passes quickly and the rocky summit is one of Scotland's finest viewpoints. The Mamores extend eastwards with sharp ridges joining an array of pointy paps. It was a stone's throw to our earlier exploits on Sgurr a' Mhaim and the Devil's Ridge. Ben Nevis, the Aonachs and Grey Corries provide an imposing fortress of mountains to the north, the Glencoe and Southern Highlands were waves of grey-blue hills on the three dimensional horizon. They were too difficult to identify, not for lack of clarity, but because our eyes were arrested by the splendid alternative views. We finished lunch and the flask of coffee. My water bottle was frozen hard and I was becoming dehydrated. The sun was beginning to dip down in the south-west and Gregor urged me to head off if we were to be down before nightfall.

I had underestimated how long it takes to the next Munro, Mullach nan Coirean. It is 4 kilometres but  it is mainly on the level with only three short ascents and the initial descent down the quartzite from Stob Ban needs some care. The light was fading and we had no time to linger at the summit of Mullach. Gregor had caught up on the football scores whilst waiting for me. I knew that the next part of the descent would be tricky, forestry plantations extend from the road up to the 300 metres contour and it is difficult to find the narrow paths through the plantations down to the forest roads that climb steadily by a series of switchbacks through the forest.

Gregor galloped away whilst I kept a steady pace. the path is steep, rocky and hard on the quads in the icy conditions. The final 150 metres of descent to the high stile over the deer fence adjacent to the Allt a' Choire Riabhaich was brutal with large rocks, frozen mud and some patches of black ice to endure at the end of the day. Beyond the stile there is a kilometre of narrow path through recently felled forest and by this time the light was fading. It took concentration to spot the steps, icy patches and tree roots that provided a testing obstacle course. I reached the forestry road that descends gradually down to the road but with two switchbacks it was a good 3 kilometres of walking away. Had I found the more direct path before descending to the lower stile I could have saved myself half an hour and a couple of kilometres. It was pitch dark, only the distant head torches of a couple of climbers descending Sgurr a' Mhaim providing any light. Gregor had been waiting at the car and was shivering, the temperature had already fallen to -4°C in the glen.

Apart from the last hour it had been the perfect day on the hills, we celebrated with a box of chips and a buttered roll at the excellent Real Food Cafe in Tyndrum and still made it home for 8pm.

Rannoch Moor at first light

Sgurr a' Mhaim from the start at Achnabhach

Stob Ban from the slopes of Sgurr a'Mhaim

Glen Nevis

The Ben

Ben Nevis and the Aonachs

The Aonachs and Grey Corries

Sgurr a' Mhaim approaching summit

Grey Corries and Mamores

Devil's Ridge

Sgurr a' Mhaim across the Devil's Ridge

Grey Corries

Stob Ban

Towards Glencoe

Frozen Lochan Coire nam Miseach

Path to Stob Ban

Sgurr a'Mhaim and Devil's Ridge

Summit of Stob Ban

Mamores from Stob Ban

Heading to Mullach nan Coirean

Heading towards Mullach nan Coirean

Stob Ban from west

Mullach nan Coirean

Mullach nan Coirean -checking football scores

Trying to beat the sunset on the descent

"Let me be Very Clear"

Boris Johnson in Meltdown

"Let me be very clear" is the most used phrase by politicians of all persuasions in this election. If the urban dictionary had a definition it would be something like "Let me indulge and confuse you with some utter bullshit". In effect, nothing could be less clear apart from "getting Brexit done". Could there be any more confusion about Labour's Brexit policy? How are the Tory claims for tackling the social care crisis and the NHS failures to be met without even providing the funding to meet inflation and the rise in the elderly? What makes the Lib Dems think Jo Swinson might be PM? And why on earth is Nigel Farage still given any airtime?

Every day brings another gush of truth-busting promises from the participants in this election. It used to be the case that elections were the opportunity for a debate on the policies required to take the country forward with detailed arguments from all sides. The only occasion there has been a constructive discussion about policy has been the Channel 4 climate change leaders debate. Granted it was helped by Boris Johnson failing to attend and being replaced by an ice sculpture of the world that melted under the studio lights. The election is devoid of mutual respect and debased by the abuse of opponents, mendacious claims, social media trickery and keeping quiet on wicked issues. The Tories have even issued attack manuals on how to smear rivals to all their candidates. What a rudderless state we have become.

The BBC and newspapers focus on trying to trap party spokespeople and demanding that they apologise by asking the same question half a dozen times. It was a novel ploy fifteen years ago when Jeremy Paxman launched the technique on the implausible Michael Howard. Today, it is just part of the play manual used by lazy journalists posing as purveyors of truth. The popular press does not even bother with such niceties, they simply hurl abuse at the political parties and make accusations that seek to eviscerate their political targets. Once again confirming that the recommendations of the Leveson Inquiry for an independent body to investigate press complaints should have been implemented. They were dropped by the Tories following the 2017 election and IPSO became the self-serving regulator of the press. It has the same predictable outcomes as internal Police investigations. Institutions are essentially self-defence mechanisms.

An example over the last couple of days is the accusation by the Tories that Labour would devote the whole of 2020 to two more referendums that would cost £150m, only a People's Vote on the Brexit deal is proposed. This comes from the party that called for a referendum on the EU in the first place, despite there being no clamour from the electorate for one, and then called for two general elections that were contrary to the Fixed Term Parliament Act. Any semblance of honour, integrity, fairness and factual accuracy has been exorcised from the government's mode of operation. As well as the factcheckuk Twitter account that they set up to trash the opposition during the leader's debate, they have deployed the cabinet and hangers-on with a tactical ruthlessness that Jose Mourinho would be proud to have implemented.

It has been a military-style operation utilising all the talents of Boris Johnson's cabinet that is strong on duplicity and stable on incompetence. The attack dogs are a platoon led by Michael Gove whose calm garrulity leaves no truth unsullied. He is assisted by James Cleverly, Kwasi Kertang, Nadim Zahawi and Brandon Lewis. They have memorised the attack manuals and evasively twist any question about their policies or past mistakes into a lie-laden thrust against their political opponents. Then there are the sycophants who are capable of flipping on any issue. Their leading exponents are Matt Hancock and Nicki Morgan, both so obsequious to their leader that they seem incapable of uttering statements that have any logical coherence. There are a small group of mavericks who are released on special missions when a more ruthless defence is required and this is where Dominic Raab, Rishi Sunak, and, less effectively, Sajid Javid are sent into battle.

Those left have been sent on a version of the reality TV show, the Chase. The idea is to keep them hidden from the press and media until December 12. They could be described as the Dim and Dimmer group. They include Andrea Leadsom, Gavin Williamson, Stephen Barclay, Esther McVey, Theresa Villiers, Alistair Jack and Liz Truss. The latter is Dimmer who keeps getting caught, desperate to show off her misunderstanding of almost any subject. And finally, there is special Agent Mogg, Rees-Mogg, who has been sent to Bath early to campaign in his constituency using only pen and ink and doorstep condescension.

The Labour Party lineup is more muddled than tactical because 80% of its MPs do not support Jeremy Corbyn and are therefore excluded from taking any part in the election campaign. They are reliant on John McDonnell and Keir Starmer as their central defenders but soon run out of other options. Angela Rayner, Rebecca Long-Bailey, Andy McDonald, Jonathon Ashworth and Dawn Butler are used to promote policies but are less proficient at defending their leader than Boris Johnson's attack dogs. They have put Emily Thornberry on the naughty step, lost Tom Watson, sent Diane Abbott on the Chase and Richard Burgon has been asked to shadow Liz Truss as the spokesperson for incompetence.

Jo Swinson has for some strange reason adopted the Theresa May strategy of making the election about herself becoming PM. It is a flawed construct given her lack of gravitas, naivety and previous form as a minister in David Cameron's Austerity cabinet. Chukka Umunna, freshly enrolled as a Lib Dem, making it his third party of the year and flaunting his naked ambition is making speeches that suggest he has eyes on a different sort of leadership prize after the election assuming he becomes an MP entrapped in his latest cosplay as a Lib Dem. In Scotland, the SNP have adopted the very clever strategy of not being any of the above and realise that in what goes for a general election campaign it is best to let the other parties convince the electorate that they are unworthy of their vote. That allows them to concentrate on attacking the Tories and claiming that they are not in any secret collusion with Labour.

So if the polls are correct and the Tories win, "let me be very clear" that "getting Brexit done" will be "a walk in the dark".

Doyens of Democracy

As the 2019 General Election campaign rumbles on with all the traducing the truth that we have come to expect from this most incompetent of parliaments, the media shows no sign of trying to uplift the level of debate about real issues. The BBC have fact-checking but, given that facts are moveable in time, space and mindsets, this is of dubious value. Most of the time the popular press and social media are more interested in creating some pizazz out of the 'ditzy blonde' versus 'greybeard' prizefight. It is increasingly easy to get strung along by the assumption that all our MPs are universally ficcant.

Yet amidst all the blatant failures of Theresa May's and Boris Johnson's governments there have been some doyens of democracy who deserve recognition for delivering what Mrs Thatcher promised (but failed) to do when she became PM.

‘Where there is discord, may we bring harmony. Where there is error, may we bring truth. Where there is doubt, may we bring faith. And where there is despair, may we bring hope’

Here's my list of ten MPs who deserve some recognition for their persistence to challenge the executive in the age of austerity and adversity.

David Gauke  Open-minded, thoughtful, courteous and honest, a reminder of what decent Tories used to be like.
Angela Rayner  Feisty, radical, and robust enough to debate issues with the formidable Amber Rudd and come out with credit. One of the few members of Corbyn's shadow cabinet who has the confidence and heft to speak her mind without fear nor favour.
Dominic Grieve  A forensic attention to detail on parliamentary procedures and an unflinching belief in membership of the EU that, unlike most of his colleagues, he has not been prepared to abandon in order to curry favour with his party.
Jess Phillips She may be gobby in a Brummy way but she is brutally honest and cares deeply for those in her constituency who suffer from many indignities that Parliament could and should resolve such as universal credit disasters, housing failures and lack of mental health services.
Keir Starmer The only MP who has worked consistently with the EU in a collaborative way on Brexit negotiations. He has displayed the same intellectual and statesmanship qualities shown by the leading EU politicians. Also understands the need for a People's vote to reconcile the deep divisions amongst the electorate.
Stella Creasy  Always prepared to face up to tough issues like abortion reform, equality issues and an advocate of citizen's juries to rejuvenate democratic debate. Undaunted by Corbynite threats and trolling by pro-life activists.
Ian Blackford   The leader of the SNP, who remained respectful of the House when launching lacerating criticism of government policies. On many days the most effective challenger at PM's question time.
Anna Soubrey  For being Anna Soubrey: articulate, passionate and scrupulously honest despite the release of hostilities against her by the media. social media warriors and her party.
Jacob Rees-Mogg  Not that he merits any praise but he was a counter-insurgent who sometimes was just as effective in tripping up the government. He was the leading exponent for rejecting Mrs May's Brexit deal. His unsurpassed unctuousness owes a lot to his Edwardian charm, calm eloquence and impeccable manners, which were used to showcase his reactionary polemic that delayed and derailed Brexit.
John Bercow Almost as gobby as Jess Phillips and as unctuous as Rees-Mogg but with a thoroughly fearless independent spirit in the House of Fun. Huge kudos for upsetting Andrea Leadsom when she was Leader of the House.

Schiehallion

Summit

Tuesday 13 November 2019

Ascent:          782 metres

Distance:       10 kilometres

Time:             3 hours 54 minutes

Schiehallion        1083m     2hrs 6mins 

Schiehallion is one of the most climbed Scottish Mountains and the place where contours were first invented to estimate the mass of the Earth. The new paths created by the John Muir Trust in the last twenty years have eliminated some of the worst areas of mountain erosion anywhere in Scotland. Schiehallion is climbed by 20,000 people per annum. This was my ninth visit, most of them in winter conditions. Today was no exception, the mountains were capped in snow above 600 metres and the forecast was for a clear day with some periods of cloud, freezing temperatures but very little wind. I had originally planned to go to hills nearer to home, but the heavy snow a couple of days ago made me think twice about battling through deep snow to lonely summits. Schiehallion's path would make it easy for the first hour, and the snow would make negotiating the ridge of large boulders leading to the summit less hazardous than in summer.

There was no rush, so I didn't leave home until 8:30am. The morning was the clearest this winter, and the roads were empty of traffic if not pheasants. A temperature inversion meant that Loch Tay was invisible in the low clouds, but as I climbed out of Fearnan, the sun picked out the winter hues of the landscape. I should have stopped to get photographs of Schiehallion, which looked majestic from the south, but I was too keen to get to the Braes of Foss car park and start walking. There were two other cars parked up, and another arrived just after me. The car parking pay machine was frozen up, so charges were not in force. I wasted no time getting away on the well-made path that was rock hard from the overnight frost. It ascends gradually at first through a series of three gates to penetrate the high deer fences.

After the third gate, the path ramps up, and it was snow and ice-free until about 550 metres, when the path became icy and then from 650 metres it was covered in crusty snow. The walking became progressively more difficult as the depth of snow increased to 12 inches, and every step had unknown consequences. In the circumstances, I kept a reasonable pace without any stops apart from a chat with a couple who had just started their descent. Their footprints on the ascent had meandered to and fro, but had provided a general direction in the limited visibility, so I was able to make a more direct route

I arrived at the summit at midday, more or less as I had intended, and stayed for about ten minutes to have a drink of coffee. I had hoped that the clouds would shift, but there was little wind. I could have been anywhere; the huge boulders at the summit had been plastered by snow, and the wind had performed tricks with the snow that no Artex artist could ever manage. The two walkers who had left the car park behind me arrived at the summit as I was about to leave and thanked me for making a track for them. It was their first visit, and the long ridge to the summit always catches walkers unawares. It adds over a mile to the ascent over a boulder field that was sheathed in a bubble wrap of deep snow.

The descent was an easy jaunt down, very cold at first as a northerly breeze had begun to bite on the upper slopes. The snow assisted in making it possible to slide down some sections to 750 metres, and then there was a tricky section over the icy path before reaching the bare paths at about 600 metres. A young woman was making a late ascent, having just returned from Canada, and she told me that she was desperate to feed her addiction to the mountains. Another walker was making an attempt, but with no rucksack, gloves, torch or hat. He had forgotten to put it in the car, and I suspect would be making a forlorn attempt, he would have to turn back as time was not on his side. I was down just after 2pm. As a winter walk, it had been near perfect and I was home, bathed and beered before nightfall at 4:30pm.

Path from the car park at Braes of Foss

Schiehallion from the path

Looking north east over Loch Tummel to Beinn a' Ghlo

Glen Lyon munros to the south

On the ridge at 900 metres

Looking east from 1000 metres

Looking north from near the summit

Looking south from near the summit

Meall Tairneachan to the east on descent