Christine's walking & birds blog

Meall an Fhuarain

At just 578m, this hill was never going to be a serious expedition - or was it? Setting off up the forestry track, we scanned Loch Craggie for a female goldeneye we'd seen from the road. It would have been a first for the mountain list, but it had disappeared; so instead we admired the view over the loch of Breabag, Conival, and Ben More Assynt.


Once again, we'd chosen a Sunday for our walk in order to avoid logging operations, although we passed a couple of vans belonging to two men who were planting out conifers. Just after that, we struck off up the hillside; with the recent removal of so many trees, at least we could see where we were going. But underfoot it was very rough (wet and spongy, very uneven, and covered in cut branches). Our destination is the hill with snow on it; and I was already falling behind.


We had noticed another car parking near ours as we climbed past the forestry workers - and it was around here that we caught sight of the other walker, who was striding along the edge of the plantation ahead - how had he passed us?! When we reached the trees we realised that the going was easier here, and did a bit of striding of our own.

Meadow pipits were in display flight everywhere, and we watched two skylarks rise above us singing. At about 300m, a lizard went careering through the heather.


Not long after that, we flushed two red grouse, which flew off with their nice, rather quizzical croak. Bit too fast for me and my camera.


We toiled on. The day had become quite warm, and the sun was shining from a deep blue sky. We both took off our jackets, and I stuffed my woolly hat in my pocket. This was fatal as it later fell out - and as we took a different route back, it lies somewhere up there among the peat hags still, in a place I have no intention of returning to!

Greger has problems with his feet, and they were now beginning to hurt. My problems were general ill-health and lack of fitness. I fell further and further behind as I plodded up the convex slope of this boggy, grassy hill with false summits galore bringing disappointment and extra whinging. Then I looked up to see Greger on the skyline waving his arms in triumph. Relieved, I pushed on and on, and came to a sharp piece of rock sticking out of the ground - and no Greger. Had he seen this and assumed it was the trig point? (Yes, he had.) On and on it went, and even when I had the summit in sight, the ground between seemed to stretch out like a vast, impossible distance that I would never be able to cover.


We had seen the other walker leave the top and pass us at a distance on his way down - it seems he followed a vehicle track all the way which was wet and muddy but still offered better walking than the pathless stuff we'd traversed. Just as well he'd gone, as we sort of took over the summit (Greger's coffee cup is standing on the top of the trig point). I usually like to look around, but today all I could do at first was sit down and have something to eat and drink.


Refreshed, I walked round the plateau and snapped off shots in all directions, but the pictures were a bit disappointing given the amazing views. Greger said it was a panorama of some of our hill-walking history - and certainly we could lay claim to having stood on top of many of the ones we could see.


The triangulation pillar was a bit battered and mossy, but had its top-plate intact; and the flush bracket number was S7932.


Once we had packed away our clutter, I took a last snap westwards towards the sea....


....and we set off down, determined to follow in the other walker's footsteps and stick to the tracks - even if they made it a longer walk. In fact, across a couple of snow patches, we were quite literally walking in his footsteps.


This was taken just after I suffered cramp of the inner thigh - so agonising it made me cry out. Poor Greger came rushing over, but when I managed to gasp out that it was cramp, he said "Thank goodness - I thought it was your knee." "Yes, thanks Greger, meanwhile I'm in terrific pain." But I know what he meant; cramp does eventually go away. And this did go away - only for me to have it in the other leg ten minutes later.

Having splashed through a thousand bogs, it was with great relief that we reached the forestry road. Every step was agony now for Greger with his painful feet, but he was watchful enough to spot the remaining birds of the walk; a buzzard, and several bullfinches.


It was good to get back down to the car (the other walker was long gone) but I was depressed by my lack of stamina on the walk and my immense weariness now it was over. Greger pointed out that it had been a fairly long walk with difficult conditions underfoot; in fact the walk was almost ten miles, and we had been out for nearly 8 hours. I love to be in the high, lonely places but it's getting increasingly difficult to reach them. Apparently, Queen Victoria went up Lochnagar on a pony. Now there's a thought.