After heading to the West Coast and returning without a single additional Munro to my name last week (see this post on the spectacular Kinlochewe to Poolewe walk) I was ready to get out of Aberdeen and get up some hills a bit closer to home. Inspired by Steven Fallon’s suggested route I chose the mountains east of Glenshee as my destination, the idea being to bag six of them before heading back.

Due to the strange bus services going on at this time of year I was able to take the 503 from Aberdeen and get dropped off at the head of the A93 pass just south of the ski centre at Glenshee. This was great as it already gained me a significant altitude and also cut off the traditional long walk in. After a quick pause to don waterproofs against the Scotch Mist that was being blown through by strong winds I headed up the track to the summit of Meall Odhar. It’s a strange world around there, particularly in the mist. Eerie items of ski equipment, rusty and forlorn, suddenly appear out of the mist, and the wind set up an unearthly wailing in the wires of the lifts. To my south it certainly looked brighter but closer at hand, my first target of the day, Creag Leacach, was hidden beneath cloud.

From the summit of Meall Odhar I descended slightly, and then before the main pull up to Glas Maol began, headed southeast, picking up a narrow but well defined path that contoured around the base of Glas Maol, bringing me up to a Cairn above Bathach Beag. Here the sun came out and the clouds lifted so I stopped to remove all the waterproof gear. From the direction of Glas Maol a large party of hillwalkers came and after cheerful hello’s I set off along the ridge to my first Munro of the day.

Creag Leacch looks an impressive hill and the ridge path took me up across a couple of boulder-strewn bumps before reaching the summit (1 hr 15). I paused for a bite of lunch and a mug of tea before heading back the way I’d ascended.

At the bottom of the final pull to the summit I re-passed the hillwalking group who were heading south, and now continued on my way to Glas Maol. Initially I followed a line of fence posts from the cairn I had stopped at earlier but once up the slope had to leave them and strike eastwards to find the cairn and trig point (2 hrs).

The clouds had rolled back in at this point and it was gloomy and windy. After a moment to celebrate my 10th Munro I headed off, descending from Glas Maol and then picking up a broad track which wound its way around the head of various Corries to reach the slopes of Cairn of Claise.

It was a long walk up but had some nice views, particularly to the south and eventually I reached the summit cairn, straddling another dry-stone wall (2hrs 40). After another quick bite to eat and some tea I headed off east with the view now opening up magnificently towards Lochnagar. Before me was Tolmount and Tom Bhuidhe and it was to the latter of these that I headed first. The bottom of the descent offered some awkward boggy ground but it didn’t take long to pick up a firmer path which led me to the summit (3hrs 20).

After pausing to take in the view I retraced my steps down the hill and then crossed over to the Tolmount. Again I picked up a course of iron fence posts which brought me to the flat summit (3 hrs 40). From here there were excellent views down to Loch Callater. In the distance veils of rain were covering the major bulk of the Cairngorms. Although it rained briefly at this point it was not enough to force any waterproofs on.

I now picked my way across pathless, undulating terrain, westwards towards my final Munro of the day, Carn an Tuirc. I passed some lingering snow and chased hares across the mountains, all of the time walking into a strong and unpleasant headwind. Then, with the view back to Glenshee finally appearing, I found a track that came down off Cairn of Claise. This led me up to the rocky expanse of the summit (4hrs 40) of Carn an Tuirc where a shelter offered me respite from the wind and the opportunity for a last mug of tea.

I now crossed the summit plateau of Carn an Tuirc before finding a way down to the landrover track that comes up from Loch Callater. A steep descent, occasionally coming across sheep, brought me to the shores of the Loch where a number of people were enjoying the evening sunshine and having a fish.

I sat down on the small beach by the lodge and rested the feet for a few minutes. Then it was off down the track heading north through Glen Callater. The sun got stronger as I hit the A93 and by the time I arrived in Braemar it was a beautiful evening. The whole walk had taken exactly 7 hours and now I had time in Braemar to enjoy a pint in the Fife Arms and have a celebratory fish supper.

The bus back meandeared its way along Royal Deeside and I eventually returned to Aberdeen around 14 hours after leaving. For six Munros by public transport I don’t think it was an unreasonable time.

For any keen hillwalker Friday in Aberdeen was not a day to be looking out of the window. Passing thunderstorms, and the occasional shower of monsoon-like proportions turned the city into a grey, swirling, sodden mess. The Met Office reported conditions were not much better on the West Coast, and I didn’t even dare click on the scary-looking link marked “Latest Weather Warnings”. Still, Scotland is nothing if not surprising and by 10pm when I had crossed Aberdeen to the Atholl Hotel on King’s Gate, the evening had become placid; clear, deep blue skies thanks to the rapidly vanishing clouds and a hint of summer in the air. The people milling around the Atholl supported this with short-sleeved shirts and linen dresses indicating a certain amount of optimism.

Thirteen of us had, by almost 11pm, gathered in the lounge of the Atholl and were discussing the various merits of tackling Slioch or Ben Lair, or wondering whether Liz was going to sneak off and do her last Munro solo. Various beverages were consumed ranging from a dram of whisky through to fresh orange juice for those nursing something of a hangover from the previous night. Things were well co-ordinated and with a time limit on the coach to think of we rolled out of Aberdeen at only a minute or two past eleven. There was some concern that we might have left a no-show behind but otherwise all were present and accounted for.

For some I’m sure the next thing they saw was the Tesco Extra in Inverness at 1:30am. Here everything from ice cream to croissants were bought for breakfast and people made use of the facilities. For others the journey was long and sleepless with even Gordon’s finest luxury coach not catering for long legs. Still, no harm done as it was a beautiful summer night to be awake through, with incredible views out across the landscape which became increasingly more isolated as we travelled further west. Dave commented on the beauty of the cloud formations seen over the Moray Firth and beyond, particularly as an eerie moon rose.

By 2:45am we had tumbled down the hill into the tiny village of Kinlochewe. The bus negotiated the single track lane down to the car park and we were there. Getting ready was achieved slowly, not helped by the tiredness and the distinct chill in the air. The abandoned white vans were given a wide birth but other cars in the car park showed a few hardy souls were presumably camping out on the hills.

It was certainly a lovely night for it, crisp and clear with a Moon only a couple of days after full. We saw it peeking above the Torridon Hills with the planet Mercury (mistakenly identified as Jupiter on the night – sorry Liz!) shining brightly to its right.

The lingering twilight slowly turned into the oncoming dawn as the jagged form of Slioch appeared around a corner of the hills. We meandered our way across the flats close to the River Kinlochewe, occasionally having to jump a stream to make progress, before gaining higher ground as Loch Maree came into view.

First breakfast was taken after two long hours of walking at a beautiful spot overlooking the Loch. The morning sunshine was by now illuminating the Torridon Hills across the water. The view, made better by the serenity one can only find at 5am in the middle of nowhere, was thoroughly enjoyed as we sipped hot drinks and munched the odd banana.

The path up until now had been fairly well defined, albeit boggy in places. Now however, it took us on an interesting route through head-high ferns and then down a slippery track through woodland to the beach close to Letterewe. Navigation was difficult at best with one path disappearing into the undergrowth only to be replaced by another one appearing to one side or the other. We paused on the beach to look up the impressive valley towards Ruadh-stac Mor, Sail Mhor and the other Torridon Hills. Then it was another wander through the forest before we came out against a small cottage and the first sign of habitation on this side of the Loch.

As we walked through the lush pastureland around Letterewe the sun finally climbed above the broad shoulders of Slioch and we felt the genuine warmth of the day. Here after four hours of walking, and following second breakfast (where we were kindly joined by the midgies), we left the shores of Loch Maree and enjoyed our only real climb of the day.

Heading up towards the Strathan Bhuide we had some glorious views back across the Torridon Hills. They were laid out under glorious blue skies pocketed by streaks of fluffy white clouds. Climbing besides the Allt Folais we were joined briefly by a couple of walkers who emerged from their tent and were slightly taken aback by the sudden traffic jam that had appeared on their doorstep.

Our third stop of the day came at the high point, the summit of the pass through the hills towards Fionn Loch. Here we had our last look over to Torridon and with the sun beating down were vigorously applying suncream, even at 8:30am!

Pressing on we started the descent with the beautiful Fionn Loch seen enticingly between folds in the valley floor. Our attention was also caught by the four horses that we found grazing on grass lower down. One in particular took a shine to our passing and at one point looked like it would be accompanying Gordon N all the way to Poolewe. The path was well made but took us through a dramatic gap between the surrounding hills. Before us was a wide flat area pocketed with Lochs and Lochans marking the start of the Great Wilderness away towards the Fisherfield Forest.

The track skirted below Beinn Airigh Charr and brought us along the shores of the calm Loch an Doire Crionaich. On the way we passed a solitary tent pitched below the path that leads to the shores of Fionn Loch. They had the Fisherfield Hills to themselves with the whole jagged horizon visible under dramatic skies. Our fourth breakfast was held here by the mirror-like waters of the Loch where a deceased fish was considered as an addition to the barbeque.

We meanwhile were leaving these dramatic scenes behind and heading out towards the coast at Poolewe. The final few miles took us along the shores of Loch Kernsary which afforded amazing views far into Torridon. On display was a panorama of distinctive peaks, mountains and hills. The clouds by now had gathered and with the end of the long road in sight it was a quicker pace that took us towards the sea.

Finally we came down off the hills and into Poolewe itself. Loch Ewe was sombre under the clouds and at first everyone was too weary to think about the barbeque. Eventually it was started but it was only with the cunning additions of driftwood and toilet paper that it heated up enough to flame grill our burgers. In the meantime we sampled the delights of buns filled with salad and relish, some very juicy strawberries and the delicious kebabs.

It was hard to tell who fell asleep first on the coach, but after a brief comfort stop at the facilities in Poolewe we were heading back east. With only a stop for ice cream at Tesco in Elgin we were soon pulling up back outside the Atholl in Aberdeen. It had been almost 20 hours since we left but everyone had agreed it had been a thoroughly excellent way to welcome in the summer. Perhaps someone should also inform the weather gods of this.

Thanks to Liz for her immense organisational skills and to, well, everyone for being the leader and backmarker at some point or other during hike.

Day 1 – The Drive West

Aberdeen was shrouded in cloud as we headed down the A90 on the first stage of the journey to Skye. A subsequent damp stop in Dunkeld (where we stumbled upon a flower show in the Cathedral) was followed by a drive up the busy A9 between mountains that became increasingly higher and wilder.

The first signs of sunshine came as we stopped above Loch Laggan, shortly before the route took us up the Great Glen alongside Loch Lochy. After being almost run over by the local Laird at Spean Bridge, and stopping for hugely expensive diesel in Invergarry, the clouds once again rolled in as we passed Loch Cluanie, then Glen Shiel. Passing through Kintail, with the Five Sisters behind us, the waters of Loch Duich turned blue and the sun streamed out, illuminating the distant Skye Bridge, behind which the great jagged ridge of the Cuillins could be seen.

It was only a short drive then to Kyle of Lochalsh, over the now toll-free Bridge, and onto the Island itself. A half hour of driving took us around the coast to Loch Sligachan with its head a riot of colour as the Sligachan campsite came into view close to the Hotel, bridge, and our bunkhouse close under the distinctive cone of Glamaig.

Day 1 – Glamaig

After negotiating a set of keys, unloading the car and changing into walking attire we headed off up, initially unsure of our exact route, towards Glamaig. At 775m it is one of two Corbetts on the island. Initially we followed boggy, fairly level ground which skirted the western slopes of the hill, heading around to the Bealach south-east of the summit. Ascending a ridge it became clear this way would be just as difficult as a direct ascent of the steep sided mountain so we abandoned it, crossed a stream and headed up towards the summit. It was a along and arduous climb, sticking to the grassier areas and avoiding the screes and boulders where possible. A good hour or so brought us from nearly sea level up to the 758m high summit where the ground mercifully levelled off and the views opened up spectacularly all around.

We chose a more direct descent, sticking to the grass again where possible and heading for the hotel. It was again very steep and the knees took a jarring but before too long we had reached the road and walked back towards the bunkhouse. The low sun on the Cuillin was quite a sight.

Day 2 – The Black Cuillin

Following various discussions the previous night I joined up with Linda, Alison, Margriet and Christopher for an ambitious day in the Cuillins. Besides the campsite at Glen Brittle, our starting point, Chris remarked that it was to be something of a Baptism of Fire. He wasn’t wrong.

The morning had started with Skye shrouded in thick mist but as we drove around the island to Glen Brittle the jagged tops of the Cuillin suddenly appeared wraithlike from between the clouds. Within seconds the mantle had been brushed away like cobwebs. Before us, under brilliant blue skies was the Cuillin Hills, the jagged Black Cuillin of Skye and some of the most spectacular and challenging hillwalking in the United Kingdom.

Despite their apparent proximity it was a still a long, hot trek up a good path from the campsite to Coire Lagan with its lochan surrounded by great slabs of Gabbro. Just below the Lochan we stopped and scrambled across to a waterfall to refill our water bottles – they were already being quickly emptied and we wouldn’t see any more water until we climbed down from An Dorus several hours later.

The Coire was already fairly busy with several groups heading off at different angles up the screes. We chose a route over to the left of the Coire, away from the worst of the screes and where possible following the firmer rocks as they climbed up towards Am Stac. Across the way we could see the route up the Great Stone Chute to Sgurr Alasdair, as well as the other magnificent peaks that looked down upon the Lochan. Those with a less strenuous day were soaking up the sun next to its algeaed waters.

At a point just below the Bealach between Sgurr Dearg and Sgurr Mhic Choinnich we left our bags, and free of the weight started to make our way right and up towards the latter of these two peaks. Nothing can prepare you for the first time you reach the actual ridge and my lower jaw plunged as I topped the crest. The whole breathtaking panorama opened wide in front of me like nothing I had ever seen before. Peak after peak plunging down in inconceivably steep sides to the green glen below. There wasn’t too much time to enjoy the view as we now started the scramble and concentration was fully on where feet and hands were going. This was for me the most demanding part of the day I don’t my head was yet in the right place and I was finding things tough going. I made it up some of the difficult ledges but then we came out again on a very exposed part which led to the last climb up onto the summit. It was at this point where my feet refused to move onwards and i found myself clutching at the ridgeline and no way of moving forward.

From there I watched the three others (one had come short a little way before me) make it up to the summit which was only a minute or so further scramble from where I had stopped. It had certainly been an interesting first taste of the Cuillins, but I wasn’t put off just yet and even the scramble down back to our bags seemed easier than it had appeared going up.

Once back to the point below the Bealach we paused to eat lunch, watching as more walkers toiled up the Stone Chute, whilst others celebrated on the top of Sgurr Alasdair. As we were packing up our bags the unrelenting sunshine was dimmed by a patch of cloud that had moved in from the west, now partially obscuring the top of the peaks opposite. In the slightly cooler air we now made our way carefully up the slopes behind us, eventually coming up and around the base of the infamous Inaccessible Pinnacle.

There seemed to be climbers all over this dramatic fin of rock, which we could appreciate only once we had made it to the lesser summit of Sgurr Dearg. All around us the peaks of the ridge could be seen continuing northwards. This is the route we would take.

From Sgurr Dearg it was easier walking dropping slightly below the ridge and making our way across to the next Munro. The flanks of Sgurr na Banachdich were well defended but my body was acclimatising much better to the exposure and scrambling and it wasn’t long before we pulled ourself up onto the top. We now had magnificent views all around, particular down towards Loch Coruisk.

We descended from Banachdich and made our way along towards the next Munro. Climbing here was steep and tricky and we first of all failed to find a way around Sgurr Thomaid which is a top sticking out of the ridge. Down this we descended and then followed the ridge up to the south top of Sgurr a’Ghreadaidh. From here to the summit it was a crawl along the knife-edged arete. It was terrifying but the satisfaction gained by reaching the summit was incomparable.

From here we had stunning views all around, down to Loch Coruisk far below, and away to the Outer Hebrides. The combination of mountain, sea and sun was incredible.

We now followed the ridge down, bypassing the Wart on its easier right hand side and coming down towards An Dorus (the Door). This is a notch in the ridge which allows a safe descent down to Glen Brittle. The last few metres were across smooth slabs and then a final plunge down an 8 foot rock wall which we were helpfully guided down after throwing our bags down!

It was now a simple task of descending the screes below An Dorus to where the path met the stream met at the bottom of Coire An Dorus. We spent time washing faces and drinking the beautifully clear mountain water. The walk out of Coire An Dorus gradually hid the hills behind us and soon enough we came out past an impressive waterfall to the Youth Hostel.

It had been almost ten hours since we left the cars at the campsite but the day had been thrilling.

Day 2 – Bla Bheinn (Blaven)

A slightly later start saw us heading through Torrin and around the head of Loch Slapin to the start of the main track up to Blaven. Again the skies were clearest blue and the initial walk, besides the gorge and its chattering scream was delightful. After the second river crossing the ascent started on a much eroded path up to the head of Coire Uaigneich and the delightful grassy alp.

Here I continued on my own, picking a way up the right stone buttress and following a steep but clear track that wound its way up the mountain. Every so often a great crack would appear with dizzying views down to the glens far below. The last part took me up a delightful tumble of boulders which provided easy scrambling. From there it was only a few minutes up to the summit where I found the cairn and trig point.

The view over to the Cuillin was breathtaking and I sat right on the very edge facing them as I ate my lunch. Other climbers arrived and remarked on the excellent weather.

I followed a slightly different course down to the Coire and finally descended to the stream where I waited for Gordon to join me. It was then a quick march back to the car and all too soon it was time to leave Skye.

The good weather lasted until the head of Glen Shiel after which we lost the sunshine and were met by increasingly heavy clouds until, just beyond Inverness the rain met us.

Arriving back in Aberdeen and running to avoid the rain it seemed like the weekend on Skye had been in a different time. It was a very special experience and I can’t wait to return.