Achnashellach and Torridon Hills: Maoile Lunndaidh (125)

Walk date: 06/05/07
My Munro #'s: 109

Pronunciations - translations - heights:
Moela loondy - hill of the wet place - 1007m

Statistics:
Duration - 09:30 - 19:00
Distance - 35.3km
Weather - Awful! High gusty winds accompanied by ice-cold rain, sleet, stinging hail and snow!
Team - solo
Other hikers: 2. They turned back.


Wide diversions from plotted route due to high rivers:





Hiking Expedition '07 - Glen Shiel area - Day 2 (Sun 6th)

What an epic day! Despite the forecast heavy weather (particularly high winds in the morning), I still naively expected this to be a relatively simple and quick day, even wondering whether I would add on Beinn Sgritheall in the afternoon!! It was somehow fitting that last year's failed attempt on this hill was down to, hey, bad weather including high winds.

After parking in Craig, I took the excellent stalker's track up into Glenuaig, pushing the bike on the ascent but also managing some riding in Glenuaig as the considerable wind was behind me. However, the gusts and the short bursts of heavy rain meant that by the time I got to the Glenuaig Lodge, I was ready for a spot of food in their welcomed walker's shed-shelter (complete with electric heater and light, neither of which were supplied with electricity in the time I was there). As this was only 11:00 and 90 minutes out, I happily spent a half hour here assessing the conditions.

Gotta love that bleak horizon, into Glenuaig:


A nice shelter, but how to work the heater?

My plan all along had been to get 'into position' during the predicted blustery morning (up to 80mph gusts), and then have a quick up and down to the summit, minimising the exposure up top. This had been a decent plan, but due to the high rainfall in the area, the rivers were fierce and the plotted route over the fords was out of the question. I spent a good half hour retracing my steps to Glenuaig Lodge in order to find the nearby footbridge, which I duly crossed.

It seemed so near, but problems were to come!


The easiest crossing all day:

Unfortunately, the crossing by the footbridge merely led to another impassable river, meaning I had to follow it southwesterly, further and further away from my plotted ascent route, looking for a safe place to cross. Nothing convincing came about for the next 3km!! All this time on difficult riverbank walking (along with the rain bursts and gusts of wind of course). At one point I thought there was going to be a good spot, but I then discovered this good spot was on a bit of river that I couldn't get to due to another tributory river being in the way!! In normal flow there would have been many crossing points, but I am deeply conservative with such things, imagining as I do a drenched me flowing quickly downstream over waterfalls and rocks along with my drenched GPS, camera, iPod...

No hose-pipe ban around here:

When one river was already bad enough:

Once finally across, I was far too westerly to return to my plotted route, so I headed up to height up Carn nan Flaclan. Once on top, regular gusts quickened the pace towards this awkward to bag top. Some leaning-in was required but the summit plateau is broad and flat so patience duly served it up.

Up at height but it's still a slog in the wind to bag it:

One bloody difficult hill to bag, my Munro 111:

Wasting no time I spun on my heels back along my ascent route. From here it became quite miserable as I had to push against strong wind that was helpfully bringing along small, sharp, stinging hail into my face. I quickly worked up a method having my GPS in hand and looking out of the way down at it, and simply making sure I retraced my steps along the top.

After what seemed like an age, I gladly started the descent back towards the troublesome river, but this time heading above the boggy land below Bidean an Eoin Deirg to catch it in slower flow. This worked well and I made my way quickly onto the crest of Sron na Fianich for a boggy heather descent back to the footbridge.

Evidence of crofting back down at Glenuaig:

Now sitting in bleach in my bathroom, a good find:

Back at the lodge and reunited with my bike I thought my troubles were over, but the wind along the glen had picked up considerably bringing with it some great heavy sheets of cold rain, together ensuring cycling was either slow and laboured or impossible for the flatter sections. Finally, I made it to the welcomed steep slope down to Craig, but it was time for one more slap in the face as the skies opened again and a prolonged heavy shower took me all the way back to the car, and at that exact point, it stopped.

As quickly as possible I wrapped up my wet gear and made it to Lochcarron, where I knew I would have reception in order to phone a guaranteed anxious Sonia!

One hell of a hill to bag, but coming with a story or two as a result! There will be no quick repeat of this one!

Achnashellach and Torridon Hills: Sgurr Choinnich (139) and Sgurr a Chaorachain (78) BUT NOT Maoile Lunndaidh (125)

Walk date: 02/05/06
My Munro #'s: 73 and 74

Interesting use of the word 'bridge':


The west ridge of Sgurr Choinnich offers no shelter:


Sgurr Choinnich (right) and Sgurr a Chaorachain (left):


Looking back to Sgurr Choinnich just after the col:


My 'lost' hill, Maoile Lunndaidh:


Hiking Expedition 2006! 09:00-16:30. Knowing that today's walk was one of this expedition's longest, and that severe weather in the form of 60 mph gusty winds and possible white-out conditions was due, I set off in the car with a deep breath and a 'turn back the second you become uninterested' attitude!

The car park at Craig is a forestry car park on the right if coming from Achnasheen, blink and you will miss the entrance. Having put my bike together, I set off across the railway line and onto the forestry track. This started climbing steeply once the river had been crossed and to be honest, with my absence of cycling muscles and 13 year old bike, I pushed it along for most of it!

However, I was still at the bridges over Allt a' Chonais after an hour's effort. Now, when we say bridges, do not be expecting quaint weathered wooden constructions put together by a hard working old hermit. Instead, expect two loosely hung cables, one above the other, and absolutely nothing more. I searched up and down the river for a short while, but decided that the river was just a little too high. Begrudgedly, I started across the second bridge and I must say that it was actually ok once I had got used to the sudden switches from leaning forward to back and back again. This second bridge had its cables closer together and in any case was the better one for the route ahead so check this one out if you're up on this route.

After the bridges, a good path leads up to Bealach Bhrearnais. Although to this point, the odd gust had hit me, there had been no real problems, and gladfully no sign of rain or snow. Of course, as soon as I hit the bealach and started up the exposed west ridge of Sgurr Choinnich I started getting much more weather and my walking started to be impeded. Instead of the path, I started walking south of the crest to minimise what problems being blown over would cause! However, I needed to get to the crest for the summit and I did this by creeping hunched over, for a moment on my knees, to touch the summit stones before retreating and starting eastward again.

This avoidance of the Sgurr Choinnich crest caused a further problem as the ridge to the col before Sgurr a Chaorachain went straight from it, but instead I found myself too far down the slope, tentatively stepping onto a snowbank to try and get a visual of where the ridge began! Finally realising what was necessary, I crept back to the crest and then gracefully sat myself down and pushed myself along with my hands and feet along the snow bank until I got to the rock of the ridge. Once I was onto the ridge, I continued my crest-avoidance and made my way through deep snow and over rock toward the summit of Sgurr a Chaorachain. Going was very slow with the wind increasing and threstening black clouds dispatching from the obvious blizzards on the hills to the south of Loch Monar, but I finally got up to height just below the summit.

Taking in the peak of Sgurr a Chaorachain was still not straight-forward though, as my crest-avoidance had brought me to an omnious snow-bank just south of the summit. From my position below this bank, I could see nothing at all of the route ahead, even at full stretch. Although by my own and by the GPS's reckoning, it was but a brief step north to the summit, the wind was so strong that stepping over the bank would most likely mean falling over, and there was no visual confirmation to stay that no, of course there wasn't a sheer drop immediately ahead. It most likely took me only five minutes to build up the courage to trust the navigation but it felt like fifteen! Suddenly, I moved onto the top of the bank in a crwal and literally on all fours, made my way onward, no doubt looking very sexy! Almost immediately, I thankfully saw the summit stone ring and, tapping it quickly, transferred back to merely hunched walking, and picked up speed down the slopes to the north.

Very quickly onto the sheltered side of the hill the effect of the wind was much reduced and I started exhaling waves of relief. Having decided somewhere between the two hills to ditch the third, Maoile Lunnaidh, I made my way down to the forestry path again. Sitting having a second lunch, I started to seriously contemplating taking in Maoile Lunnaidh after all, just ascending it from that sheletered side and indeed I even walked for fifteen minutes along the forestry path toward it. Wisely though, it being 15:15 already, and with my feet throbbing as the full size of it came into view, sense prevailed and I reversed my route.

Once the bike was picked up, progress was rapid, especially as I discovered that my rear brakes weren't working and squeezed my front ones so much that the air was particularly sulphurous.
My drive back went through Locharron where I was able to replace the waterproof trousers that my bike had just chewed through! Blustery day out with no too much regret over the 'lost' hill.