Friday, August 31, 2018
Meall Gorm
Before we came to live here four years ago, I would cast wistful glances across to the distant, dipping curve of the Bealach Ban as we drove past on the A835 at the start and end of our holidays, and long to be up there walking that ridge. But the thought of the rough, boggy walk-in always put us off - until last month, when we finally tackled An Coileachan and found the moorland trudge to be almost (it has been relatively dry here recently) as tiresome as described. So we knew exactly what we were in for today when we agreed to take the same route up to the bealach and then turn right, to gain the higher top of our last Fannich - Meall Gorm.
After a couple of hours walking we began to encounter patches of drier ground - islands of delight in an ankle-turning morass.
We reached Loch Gorm for the second time this summer and then began the steep climb up to the col. It was a relief to reach the bealach knowing that the hardest part of the climb was over. Tantalisingly, there is a bird flying out of shot to the left in this picture, which we failed to see at the time.
Nestled in the moss in a damp spot were a few fungi; I haven't managed to ID them, but this could be a kind of milkcap - possibly orange or rufous.
Later, after much research: The small shiny one is possibly mountain moss psilocybe.
This is probably cowberry (also known as lingonberry).
The ground became stonier as we gained the first, unnamed top (922m) and looked along the broad ridge which seemed so promising for dotterel; but if there were any, we didn't see them.
A raven lifted off from the ground ahead as we walked, and with hardly any more climbing we rapidly covered the kilometre to the summit of Meall Gorm (949m).
I'm posting a shot of me at the top as well, because this is a landmark mountain. It's my 142nd Munro. I've always known how unlikely it was that I would complete all the Munros; and a couple of years ago when I began to realise that my fitness was not what it had been, I said I'd be content if I could complete half. There are 283; so, like the ring-bearer, I've fulfilled my quest. (Later: Actually, one Munro has recently been demoted so there are 282, meaning that I'd already reached half with the previous hill-walk.)
Unfortunately no eagles were seen, but a buzzard flew over while we ate our sandwiches.
To the north is shapely Sgurr Mor - the highest mountain in the northern Highlands. We've already been been up Sgurr Mor so we'll now never walk the stretch of ridge and the top between this and Meall Gorm (we were too tired to venture along it today).
A walker arrived from that direction now; she mentioned the walk-out that we'd come up by and how she wasn't looking forward to the bogs and the peat-hags. We ourselves weren't thrilled about the prospect of doing it again! (Most walkers do a round of several tops and just use that route for the descent.)
We set off back down with mixed feelings, a sense of achievement at having "bagged" all the Munros in the Fannichs tempered by the knowledge that we'll probably never come up here on these ridges again. I've sometimes felt envious on encountering walkers striding across several (if not all) the tops in one day - but there again, that can seem too much like using the mountains merely as an outdoor gym. I've quite enjoyed spending so much time here. But each to her or his own; after all, when I was younger I also liked to bag several Munros in a day!
Looking across at Beinn Liath Mhor Fannaich I could see among the cloud shadows at the bottom of the valley a tiny lochan (hardly even that, and unnamed on the map) on the stream that feeds Loch Li - but not Loch Li itself, which is tucked underneath our hill out of sight.
It was nice to drop down to the bealach knowing we didn't have to climb An Coileachan. Tiny dark dots (almost invisible) above Greger's head are two more walkers who have overtaken us bound for that top - it was getting quite busy. We walked a little way up the flank before turning down to the left and picking our way carefully back down the steep, rough, and sometimes wet slopes. To the right a tiny portion of Loch Fannich can be seen - and, beyond and above it, Loch na Curra.
Greger pointed out a mountain hare running up the hillside; and I spotted a small white flower, past its best, which I think could be grass-of-Parnassus. Not sure.
Walking up through Altan Wood in the morning, we'd seen meadow pipits and our first definite black grouse (a male) on a hill walk. It had been a great day but there was disappointment in the fact that, once again, on suitable terrain, we'd failed to see any dotterel. I've tried hard to see them this summer, but now of course they might already have left. Better that, than that they were never here at all.
// posted by Christine @ 11:32 AM 
