Garbh Cioch Mor & Sgurr na Ciche - a hitch-hiker's guide

Could it really have been 2 months since my previous Munro sojourn to Beinn Mheadhoin? What’s going on? I had pencilled in this weekend for a trip to the edge of Knoydart and had some unfinished business with Garbh Cioch Mor and Sgurr na Ciche. Almost a year ago, I set out to do these two in conjunction with its Munro neighbour, Sgurr Mor, Beinn Fhuarain and two other Corbetts, which I did manage (5 out of 7 ain’t bad). However, I experienced cramp like never below and was extremely hyponatremic. This was a good learning point though and since then, I have really watched my water intake.

I was probably as fit as I’ve ever been, after recently training for the Lairig Ghru race and I decided (perhaps unwisely) to trade my boots for my running shoes, in the hope that I could run back out, even with the heavy pack. I arrived at Strathan at 1845 on a Friday night and was amazed to see only one parked car, and a van. The sun was shining but perhaps more welcome was a breeze which kept the insects away. I absolutely tore along the land rover track past Upper Glendessary and proceeded to make good progress along the still splunging path. I noted a couple of tents in the glen further along just below the starting point for Bidean Chabair, which looked a very nice hill. I pushed on past and rather than follow the path up to the bealach, I started a fairly direct route up towards Garbh Cioch Beag – I figured anywhere at 650-700m would provide me with a potential signal to phone home (and allay fears) and give me a good start for the ridge in the morning.

Although steep, progress was good and I got a nice spot, albeit quite precariously perched on a rock outcrop, which gave stunning views as far as Eigg. However, it was 2130 by the time I had set up the tent and I headed for the ridge to phone Em – despite 4 bars with Vodafone, it didn’t happen and I ended up emailing my soon-to-be brother-in-law to let Em know I was ok. This worked but I didn't know that and I knew she'd be worried. I saw the sun go down over Knoydart, which was lovely but I was starving and it was getting dark. I got back down, had some shepherd’s pie and got into bed, listening to my tunes. In short, I never slept a wink and I got up at 0215 to see how dark it was. Far too dark to pack up and head for the ridge. I waited until 0315, packed up and was off by 0330, with head torch.

I reached the ridge at 0400 and could now see my view ahead. A pink glow began to form over the clouds over Loch Quoich and for the next hour, I was privy to a lovely sunrise, while taking in the dramatic peaks of these two Munros. It is a very odd (and tiring) feeling to have summited 2 Munros by 0500 but it meant that my walk back to the car, was still cool and ahead of the heavy downpours, which were forecast later that day. I got back to the car for just before 0800 and felt very relaxed. The going on these hills is very tough - easy to see why they verge on the Rough Bounds. The long drive back was of interest because I picked up a hitch-hiker with a huge pack – a loon fae Dundee who had the broadest accent I have ever heard from that area – “I’ll hae twa meat pehhhs and an engeen een in a”. He tended to walk from Dundee to hill-walk and while I admired his tenacity, I did wonder about him. I dropped him off in Fort Bill and bade him farewell. An enjoyable experience albeit trying to stay awake on the way home was the biggest challenge.

Lairig Ghru race

An ultra-marathon. When I had signed up for this in February, the prospect of running 27 miles over the Cairngorms seemed ridiculous. However, after some decent training and long runs (particularly the 45 km with Darren in the Mamores), I was as ready as I'd ever be. "Time on your feet; walk the hills, run the flats/downhills' - really excellent advice for this race from a seasoned pro, who had just ran the WHW race in 23 hours. I particularly noted the people who ran up the hills at mile 12 onwards were the ones I would overtake later in the race. Conserving energy for the last hour or two simply can't be over-stated. I was quick through the Lairig itself  (boulder-hopping in the hills helps) - I actually found the running/walking up to the Lairig to be the hardest part of the race (obviously the last 2 miles were a bugger).

There was a chap who absolutely went head over heels in the Lairig and hurt his leg and head. He seemed very dazed and after checking on him, I let Mountain Rescue know that he wasn't in a good way. I never saw him finish the race and I think he was withdrawn - his words to me were that he "didn't realise how bouldery the lairig would be" - with smirry rain, the rocks were greasy and I did a few double-axles myself. I got through Derry Lodge in 1 hour 15 but going so quick was to be my downfall later in the race as I suffered cramp in both calf muscles from mile 15. Once through the Lairig, I stopped for 5 minutes to relax and take in the view - a horribly desolate area, which I actually really loved due to the solitude and organicness of it. In Winter, I can't imagine a more alien and inhospitable place. It's nice to be in these places and away from technology and other non-essentials.

Descending through the forest with various foodstuffs (malt loaf - not easy to consume due to its dense and sugary nature) on offer, there were many who cheered us on to the end. There was a great spirit to the race. I stopped to check on an older woman who seemed very sore but she assured me she would be fine - she was first F50 back and won a prize. No help required! The leek and tattie soup was amazing, with excellent cheese scones and flapjack. At the end, Darren and Emma were in Aviemore and it was good to see them. I finished in 5 hours 15 and while I was disappointed not to do a sub-5 hour run, I was glad to get through it unscathed and enjoyed the race. I ran strong at the end and can look back on an intense and satisfying experience - one of a kind.

Hints and tips - I ran with 1.5 litre of water with rehydrating tabs/carb powder - I took on board 3 energy gels, a snickers and about half a pack of jelly babies - I really think eating during the race helped as I had plenty of energy, it was just the cramp which slowed me down. I maybe could have ran the first bit a bit slower and kept my heart rate down. It's difficult to avoid talking but probably best to refrain in order to store energy. Look around - the scenery is stunning. Definitely walk the climbs as once over the Lairig, there is still 9 miles to Aviemore with tricky paths. I took gloves and I'm glad I did as it got very cold going over the Lairig and if you fall, you're less likely to have hand lacerations.

Beinn Mheadhoin - at last!

I don't know how many times I've considered doing this with Graeme D but our plans have been scuppered on at least 3 occasions. With a fairly decent weather window in between showers (that could be Summer), we trekked in from Linn of Dee just after 1800. Our dinner had consisted of a very dissatisfying fish supper from the chip pie - I have never before witness a fillet of fish which has turned up like a poppadom. As Graeme said, this was more deep-fried plimsole than dover sole. At least it was calories and would allow us to forego carriage of such dinner so that we may take in essentials such as beer, whisky and bars of chocolate and wine gums. Two fingers to diabetes we say!

The walk into the Cairngorms is always something special for me and with no midges around, it was very pleasant indeed. We happened upon a chap who seemed like a decent fellow but had a bit of the 1000-yard stare about him. He had just met a cyclist. carrying in a 10-kilo bag of coal on his bike and they had shared a spliff somewhere up the glen. Cool, man. We would have company at the Hutchison hut tonight and who knew which hydroponic substance would be in the offing. At 2045, we entered the coire and the Etchachan cliffs dominated the view. Another 15 minutes later and we were staring at quite possibly one of the most scenic bothies, in Scotland. Upon arrival, space-man bob was nowhere to be found - neither was his bike, his hash nor his coal. Surely he wouldn't continue on and up to Loch Etchachan with all his booty to return later that night? After de-camping and starting on the beer and whisky and chocolate, we discussed the idea that our friend with the unfeasibly long look, may actually have been on the mushrooms/the baccy/fresh air itself.

At 2145, I headed over to a small peak, where I had read you could get reception and after much rooting around, this was indeed the case. I phoned home and spoke to Emma, reassuring her all was fine. When I returned to the bothy, there was an additional human being to Graeme with bike in tow. Richard was a decent chap and we knew a common work colleague. We didn't know Dick Bush though but we sure took the name to its most puerile form, with Graeme and I heartily laughing at Dick's friend, Dick. After a couple of whiskies, we turned out the lights and sweated the night away, with Dick adding coal to the fire - I have never been so hot in a bothy and the renovation and insulation by the recent work party, is excellent.

At 0400, Graeme and I got up and took some sweets before our climb up to Loch Etchachan and on to Beinn Mheadhoin itself. Not before being sling-shot round the first tor we came to and off on a reverse trajectory back to whence we came. In fact, we would repeat the same mistake on the way back, which was very disconcerting - was there a magnetic anomaly here? We eventually arrived at the large summit tor and climbed up and on to it, taking in the deep-scoured bowls of water. I partook and it was beautifully refreshing. We waited for the clag to break but instead it started to snow and was very chilly. We decided that we had probably been lucky to have had the views and reversed our route back to the Hutchy, where we had breakfast proper. We packed up and fair motored back to the car. Mheadhoin was in the bag and we had enjoyed the bothy, with the odd tale to tell to those who would listen or read.

Seana Bhraigh

It had been two months since my last Munro outing. However, a week in Achiltibuie meant that I had my eye over this beauty. I left early to head out on the single track road in the dark and arrived at Inverlael car park for 0700. It was a 14km walk to the summit and I fair stormed across and into the glen. It was very temperate and as I ascended up the zig-zag path, I began to melt. The views up to Beinn Dearg started to open up and I could Beinn nan Enanglair peeping out. From the top of the zig-zag path, it was relatively featureless terrain so I got the head down and powered along the wee path. I wasn't prepared for the scenery over the lip and up to the three lochains but as the sun rose, I was stunned by this area of wilderness. The lochans below the cliffs to the South were partly frozen and beyond was a white plain, which seemed to extend for miles.

The terrain became consistently snow-clad and what was more, it was firm under foot. Frozen by a coruscating wind, it was an absolute joy to traverse over and down to the Cadha Dearg. I was blown away by the vast chasm which extended North-West and the cliffs over to Seana Bhraigh were beautifully precipitous. I took some tea and food here as I'd been walking solidly for about 2 hours. The wind was chilly, a reminder that Winter is not quite over yet. The walk over and up to the summit afforded my 3rd surprise of the day - the Creag an Duine ridge, which looked outstanding - already a plan to come back again for this hill was shaping. As I ascended on to the summit proper, the cornices were evident and huge. The summit sits right on the lip of the coire and presents a lovely spot to the Eastern and Northern hills. I sent a text to my wife and began the return home, which in itself was an absolute pleasure with views back over to Cona Mheall and Beinn Dearg. A fantastic day on my 230th Munro. Quite possibly one of the most wild and best of the Munros.

Sgurr a Mhaoraich

It's always good to kick off January with a Munro. After my fairly poor count last year of 13, I was keen to get going and en route to Struy, this shortish day would be a good chance to grab the Munro beside Loch Quoich. It has to be said the weather was atrocious and I didn't have a good feeling about my prospects of staying dry. Obstinate venison were moved on not far from the parking area that I chose and I found the start of the stalker's path easily. It's a joy to get back on decent paths and I made quick progress up on to the shoulder of Mhaoraich. I had hoped that by getting higher, it might get drier (i.e. snow) but it wasn't until about 850m, that this happened. At which point the wind was furious. Views back over Loch Quoich to conquered hills last year such as Sgurr Mor were surprisingly good although the colour of the sky was not and promised more inclement weather.

Some impressive cornices into the northern coire meant I kept well back. The final climb up a fairly dodgy rock face was eased by previous footprints and it was at this point when the fury of mother nature unleashed snow and hail into my face. The short walk to the ice-clad summit saw me cower behind the cairn and take a welcome cup of tea. It was not a place to linger and I took a bearing SE to avoid crags further down. By the time I returned down off the mountain, I was soaked through. At 4 hours 20, I had walked pretty quickly but it wasn't really a day to contemplate anything except the future tumble drying of clothes. Nonetheless, a smashing Munro with surprisingly decent views considering the weather.

Carn an Fhidhleir and An Sgarsoch from the Tarf bothy

After a decent sleep in the bothy, we had breakfast and gave the bothy a quick sweep. I wondered how many people would frequent this over the next 3 months since we had been the only ones in on the 1st December. Since it's repairs, it really is a wonderful bothy and the hard work to get here makes it even better. We had our first obstacle of the day i.e the 20m wide Tarf river. I opted for bare feet with sock and shoes tied away while Em and Daz marched through with boots. The water was freezing but on the other side, I felt energised. Our trump up the shallow coire eventually saw us at the bealach between the two Munros. Em was struggling a wee bit with blisters but we left the packs and began our ascent on to the Fiddler. A fairly long walk into the cloud was a little disheartening but things would get better with a bum slide down a snow field and some sunshine. I phoned Em then we began our descent. Once back at the packs and with a Compeed applied, things were better and our ascent on to An Sgarsoch was very quick. We topped out just before mid-day. From here, the views over the Cairngorms were stunning. Our high level walk took us round and down towards the Tarf, where we would cross before making our way back via a land rover track.

The MO for both parties was similar to this morning's river efforts - while Em and Daz fared better, I plunged into the depths and got a bit of a soaking. However, our walk on to easier ground meant we were in decent spirits and ready for the 10-mile walk out to the cars. I felt good but about 5 miles out and at 1615, it was head-torches on. Although we made a good pace, it wasn't until 1800 we got back to the cars. Glen Tilt is a beautiful glen and one to return to for solitude but it was a sore last few kilometres for me and Emma. Daz, fresh from his 100km run didn't feel it so. A tremendous weekend with a 62km distance at 1850m ascent and 17 hours walking time. Fabulous.

Am Faochagach

I have to say this wasn't exactly a hill I was bursting to do. Especially after having had such a stupendous time on Quinag, a few days previously. However, it's always good getting out and it seemed to be a quick jaunt so that Mrs P wasn't too put out by me being away from our holiday location in Achiltibuie. The one thing that was clear in reading reports about this was the approach was boggy to nigh impossible, after heavy rain. Fortunately, it had been dry up this way and while there was undoubted bog to cross, I made light work of this and the infamous river crossing. Ignore the small cairn, which apparently reflects the easiest crossing - it isn't. My approach (pictured) was great but then again, it was done when the river was relatively low. Once over this, it was a straightforward approach up on to the bealach. A good point to rest, re-fuel and take in the views of clag. I can imagine that the view from the hill over to the Beinn Dearg hills can be quite stupendous. Unfortunately for me, my best photo was of a mountain hare which was happy to be snapped and never moved an inch, even as I was a close as 5 ft. I fairly romped off the hill after re-arranging the cairn to offer some shelter and was back at the car in 4 hours 15 mins. This hill epitomises why those who only Munro bag are really missing out. Perhaps I had just been spoiled by Quinag experience.