Ben More via Beinn Fhada and A Chioch

The Scottish Hills meet on Mull had already been 1 day old by the time I set off from an tir mor. This would be my first time on Mull and I was quite excited as I love the islands. I disembarked at Craignure and sped round towards Salen, our base for the week. I deposited perishables and a couple of bottles of malty drinkable for the group of 10, who I hadn’t yet met. Mull and the mainland had been baking for a few days and I wasted no time in driving round to my first objective; Beinn Fhada and the A’Chioch ridge leading to Ben More. I could just see the latter towering above and it looked a formidable hill. The car said 24 degrees centigrade and the initial climb on to Fhada was energy-sapping until I emerged on to the ridge proper and a beautiful easternly wind caressed my sweaty brow. Already, views over to the Treshnish islands were dominant with Bac Mor or Dutchman’s Cap most notable. The two Marilyns to the North looked like nice little hills. Future trips were already being planned.


I climbed up on to point 568 and the views opened up nicely with the ‘long ridge’ and the rest of the intended route before me. The dark, North-facing coire face of Ben More appeared as a giant Manta ray, looming over A’Chioch. It was an enjoyable meander, passing many rocks covered in eagle poop. Just before the last lochain, I left my poles behind for the hands-on scramble required to get to the summit. From here, Mull opened up before me, although disappointingly there was a bit of haze. I returned to my poles and began the descent to the bealach separating Fhada and A’Chioch. The climb up to this peak was most enjoyable and afforded some fantastic views down into the glen below, which had some very interesting geology - I even spotted an overhanging crag which I thought would be of interest to Dave MacLeod or the likes.

At 1630, I emerged on to the summit and the ridge leading up to Ben More looked sensational. I had decided I would take the most entertaining line up this ridge and stuck to the Westernly aspect, which allowed for some nice scrambling. This got even more enjoyable higher up. I had heard shouts above me on several occasions and wondered whether there was a competition or just some over-excitable weans up on the summit. Just as I walked on to the summit, a girl with blonde dreadlocks walked over and shook my hand while exclaiming how much she had enjoyed watching me scramble up the route. What a welcome! Clare and I spent the next 15 minutes chatting about the wild, the hills and our experiences with hers far out-trumping mine. Tales of Nepal, Kangjenchunga and New Zealand sounded fantastic and Clare worked manually day by day to supplement such trips, with no permanent abode. In a way, I was a little envious of her life. I noticed her hands were very rough and she had the face of someone who enjoyed the outdoors. We shook hands and I began the descent back to the car. The path was huge and I forget how popular the Munros are. After such a stimulating walk, the return felt a little anti-climactic but it was relaxing nonetheless. It had been a terrific introduction to Mull and I had been blessed with the conditions. All that remained was to meet the SHills crew, who were a very welcoming bunch.