Christine's walking & birds blog

Sgurr nan Clach Geala

Inspired by this view from our Sgurr Mor walk just over a week ago, we set out on an unpromising morning of grey skies and fitful showers to bag the second-highest (1093m) of the Fannaichs.


We approached this time from Loch a' Bhraoin near the Destitution Road; a stalkers' path (and right of way leading south to Lochluichart) gives rapid access - but neglects to address the problem of river crossings. Good job it's been so dry recently!


Eventually leaving the path to plod up the hillside, we heard a dry bark and looked up to see a deer watching us from above. We've never been barked at by a red deer before; and she kept it up all the time we were making our way past her. Other deer were grazing nearby, but they merely moved away as we approached.


I think this pink flower is moss campion.


It came on to rain quite heavily. I suggested putting our walk off to another day, but Greger said he was happy to go on now that we'd come so far. So we went on - and I would be thankful we did later, as the weather gradually improved and we had a great day.

After making our way across a great scoop comprised mostly of peat-hags, we reached the wide col with its lochan; and it was here that I heard a ring ouzel singing. But the only bird I could see was a distant ptarmigan.


And then a ring ouzel went flying past, disappearing over the lip of the huge Coire Mor. Well, we'd be skirting that, so we might see him again.

Looking over at Sgurr Mor, we were amazed to see how steep this flank of the mountain was. We knew about the steep drop on the eastern side because the cairn was built on the edge of it, but hadn't realised this side was pretty scary too. Fortunately the summit ridge is broader than it looks.


Meanwhile, the route to the summit of our present mountain looked fairly precipitous - given that the other flank was also pretty steep. It was, in fact, an interesting rocky path with a bit of easy scrambling, and a couple of dizzying views down narrow gullies to the river at the bottom.


And tantalisingly, from somewhere out on that vast slope came the simple but sweet song of the ring ouzel. I scanned every now and again as we walked up, but could see nothing. The clouds closed in again and there was a brief shower - and then I saw him, quite far ahead, but helpfully standing against the sky.


We climbed on, serenaded by the ouzel, and Greger drew ahead. He stopped and called out something that I couldn't hear - and then I realised that what I'd thought was a rock was actually the triangulation pillar - or what was left of it. He'd reached the top!


This poor old unloved pillar still had its flush bracket however, and the number was S9500. The actual summit is marked by a small cairn; this is looking back at the trig point as we were leaving.


We made our way out to a south-east prow (still hearing the ring ouzel) and then turned down a steep slope to the col, when the song was lost. Ahead is Sgurr nan Each - another Munro. We'd already decided against bagging it too, as we were fairly tired and had a long walk-out (back through the valley to the right). But doesn't it look tempting!


Steep, and in places boggy, slopes led down to the stalkers' path; and then it was just a case of putting one foot in front of the other until we were back at the car. We still hadn't seen dotterel - but the ring ouzel had been a very welcome sight, singing a song entirely for his own purposes and only incidentally entertaining us.