Tuesday, July 18, 2017
Beinn Liath Mhor (Strath Carron)
Greger has bought himself a Tilley hat, to help prevent sunburn in the hills. With good weather forecast for today he was looking forward to trying it out - and ten minutes into the walk, he realised he'd left it in the car. After climbing up through woods from the road, you have to cross the railway line - and while he was away fetching his hat, I heard a train in the distance. I hoped he'd heard it too, but it gave quite a loud blast on the horn as it approached - and soon afterwards he re-appeared on the path below. Hat retrieved and sudden death averted, we set off again; and soon we could see the first top of our walk, rearing up behind the shadowed spur on the right-hand side of the picture.
Above the tree-line a pair of stonechats scolded from the heather, and the male watched us off his territory.
As we climbed steeply beside the river, the full ridge came into view. The only top that counts as a Munro is the far, whitish one - 2 km away from the first one. Typical. But we were looking forward to what promised to be a fine ridge walk.
The plod up to the first top was very steep, but was enlivened by two wrens singing from crags and lots of frogs hopping downhill. There was a fine view of Loch Coire Lair and, rising beyond it, Fuar Tholl and Sgorr Ruadh.
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A fairly clear path led up across heathery, sometimes boggy ground, until this gave way to shattered quartzite. Greger models his Tilley hat on the first top.
The views that now opened to the north were mesmerising, for there in all their glory stood the Torridon giants. The gaze travelled swiftly across Beinn Liath Bheag, the tiny H-shaped Lochan Gobhlach, and Sgurr Dubh, to the Beinn Eighe massif - stretching from left to right of the picture.
We've never been on Beinn Eighe - but many years ago, we negotiated the ridge of Liathach in dreary cloud and drizzle; it's a good job we couldn't see, otherwise we would never have dared. My heart lurches when I look at it now. We did, however, avoid the particularly spiky and exposed Am Fasarinen pinnacles by taking the much-used lower path on this side of the ridge. Goodness knows where that is, though!
Just before we got going again, I heard the high-pitched "kikiki" of a raptor, and a raven appeared in the sky pursued by a (probable) merlin. Again and again the angry merlin attacked the raven, which suddenly changed course and flew towards us. Perhaps he thought we could help. The merlin gave up, wheeled away, and was across the huge corrie in no time at all; and all my attempts at recording the encounter came to nothing apart from a couple of poor record shots.
The Munro at the end of the ridge is white with quartzite, and almost lost against the milky haze towards the sea. To the left is Coire Lair - and the stalkers' path that will take us out again.
Looking back to the first top after two rock outcrops (one just visible in the picture above) have been easily bypassed.
A third outcrop which couldn't be bypassed came to an abrupt end, requiring an easy scramble to get down.
The land of lochs and rocks: These lochs have the collective name of Lochan Uaine and give their name to Sgorr nan Lochan Uaine, rising behind them.
We reach the final, rough top on the ridge (926m) with its views westwards to Upper Loch Torridon and beyond!
Across the corrie, above the ridge of Sgorr Ruadh (over a kilometre away), two large birds wheeled and glided, and then flapped away westwards into the distance; I'm not sure but I think they might have been white-tailed sea eagles.
We now began our descent into Coire Lair, with softer sandstone replacing the harsh, dazzling quartzite of the ridge as the dominant rock; here, it forms a smooth bowl shape, but on the slopes below it is in blocks which made it harder than you'd think to find a way down.
But at last we scrambled through - and then we were faced with the inevitable price of enjoying a long ridge walk, ie. a long walk-out past it back through the corrie!
The walk was 14 km long - and it wasn't without its mishaps. I slipped over on a wet patch, catching my hip on a rock and getting covered in mud. Fortunately I had shorts and a spare top in my rucksack, packed in case it turned out very hot. Worse, one of my walking poles got bent. But it still worked on the long and weary trek out - during which we decided we would never do another Munro!
// posted by Christine @ 1:39 PM 
