Trip to the Cuillins of Skye

Pronunciation/Translation: Sgurr Dearg - skoor jerrack (red peak), Sgurr Mhic Choinnich - skoor veek chunyeek (MacKenzie's Peak, named after John MacKenzie the first Skye guide)

One of the highlights of 2010 for me, has to be the trip made to the Isle of Skye back in June for an adventurous jaunt among the Cuillins.

Starting the long drive north around lunchtime on Monday 31st May, car packed full with everything needed for the next five days. I was looking forward to trying out a new mid-sized tent, too weighty for backpacking, but just right for a few days on site at Glen Brittle.

The weather had been fine the week before, and was still holding up as we finally crossed the Skye bridge on this warm sunny evening. Alfie by now had decided that he didn't really like being in the car this long and was beginning to whine at every crest and turn on the narrow roads.

We arrived at the Glen Brittle campsite, situated near the foot of the southwestern slopes of the Cuillins. It was quite busy, but we managed to find a nice spot to pitch beside the coastal fence, not too far from the shower block. Tent up, dinner cooking and a drink in hand...        ...bliss!

Tuesday morning arrived, did I hear a spot of rain last night? Well the view, or lack of it as I unzip the tent flap confirms my fear. Who stole the Cuillins? They were there looking down on us last night, but today they are swamped in thick cloud from top to bottom.
According to todays forecast there would be drier parts in the north of Skye, so we opt for a drive up to Portree and Dunvegan.

Parking in Portree is not easy, there are a number of pay and display zones that have the usual time restrictions etc. Most are full anyway, so we try the parking area just outside of the main town centre. There is an area not far along that appears to have spaces. I'm then informed by a determined looking woman that my space is for buses and coaches only. As I oblige her and resolve to continue my search for a legitimate portion of tarmac, a volkswagen passat seizes my "bus" space. Eventually I find a spot which has a few empty spaces either side, so surely no complaints?

A short walk takes us to the busy hub of Portree town centre, where we drop into the Tourist Information building to buy an OS map and a few prints of the majestic Cuillins. Then it's the obligatory walk down to the harbour and a quick nose around the many little shops that offer tartan, shortbread, malt whisky and those little lighthouses made out of scrap metal.

In one outlet Shona bought a cool Landrover coffee mug. While I was waiting outside with Alfie I decided that one of those lighthouses might look good upon the pebbles in my bathroom, so I go in to get one when Shona returns. Some time later I come out with nothing. It seems I have the knack of becoming invisible when standing waiting to pay at shop counters, both to the customers behind me and the persons serving. In this shop it would seem that dusting the merchandise was way more important than selling it.

Feeling hungry we seek out and find a handy little fish and chip establishment that has nice wooden benches for us to tether Alfie while we fill our bellies. We then head back to continue our tour of Skye. On reaching the car, the driver of the coach next to us informs me that I'm parked in a bus space...    ...Oh really?

Next stop on the tour is the Old Man of Storr. We park up, (not a coach in sight) and start up the path through wooded hillside towards the legendary landmark. The scenery here is beautiful. Dramatic, grey pinnacles of rock forcing their way up through lush green grass. I really want to go back and do some climbing on those jagged faces, although according to Dave MacLeod, who climbed the Old Man in 2009, there is little in the way of reliable protection placements and holds may be plentiful, but likely to break off in your hand!

On to Dunvegan, which was mostly shut, apart from two hotel bars. We plumped for one that had an outside seating area for Alfie, but with the wind getting up, Shona ventured inside to see if it was dog-friendly. She was gone quite a while, so I decided to stick my head in to see what was what. Other than a barmaid there was only one couple in the bar, and it seemed they were determined to make Shona hear all their tales of collies and campervans. It was now my turn to have my ears filled with facts of the aforementioned subjects. After the couple's border collie had performed every trick in it's lengthy repetoire, including jumping upon the pool table and rolling over to collect the cue ball, we made our excuses and got on our way back to the south and those Cuillins.

Dinner tonight would be more fish, oops. We picked up some smoked mackrel earlier in the day, that and the usual baked beans and beer went down a treat. Maybe Shona would disagree?
Off we creep to sleeping bags in the hope that the morning would be cloud free.

Wednesday gave us much the same weather conditions as the previous day. It could deal us this hand daily, so we decided to head up into the mountains anyway. In hindsight I was glad that the Cuillins were shrouded in cloud. It meant that we got to see two very different sides of these awesome mountains.

An easily followed path leads up from the campsite shower block. It winds it's way along for some way and in places hugs the little streams that drain the lochans higher up on the hills. Although it was overcast, the rain had held off so far and we were all still nice and dry. This was about to change as we began heading up into the mist towards the Coire Lagan. The terrain gets much steeper here and in places where there is alot of boulders, you can lose track of the path, especially if there is a lot of low cloud.

We continued up the left side of the gully to the waterfalls cascading from the sublime lochan which plugs the corrie between Sgurr Dearg and Sgurr Alasdair. There were a few other climbers who had chosen the rocks by the lochan as a place to stop for lunch, so we joined them. Having lunch felt quite bizzarre in this setting. It was dark due to the thick cloud shrouding us, and really did feel like it was night. Three guys resting near us asked where we were heading. Well, our plan was just to attempt to get up to the ridge and see how conditions were. These guys were a bit undecided, they were thinking about turning around and heading lower down.

With fuel on board we set off towards the back of the corrie. A large group were just in front and seemed to be searching for the Great Stone Chute which falls down between Sgurr Alasdair and Sgurr Thearlaich. They really didn't seem to be very sure where they were heading and we decided to head north towards a scree slope that would take us up to the ridge between Sgurr Dearg and the Coireachan Ruadha Crags. The ascent here is tough underfoot with piles of rock and scree moving beneath your feet. It's the same on the Great Stone Chute, where we could hear warning shouts and the smashing of rocks being sent down by the large group. Soon we could hear more manic shouting closer to us and realised that the three guys we had spoken to at the lochan were struggling to follow us up the scree.

In these conditions I find this unnecessary shouting quite annoying. If someone truly has fallen it may be drowned out by others vocalising their disgruntlement about the climb.
Fortunately the three were fine, just a bit shaken by the steep scree they'd taken on. They joined Shona, Alfie and I on the ridge then plodded off in search of the Inaccessible Pinnacle.

Visibility up here was still extremely poor. The mist was soaking us and wind was whipping spray across the ridge, poor Alfie wasn't happy. We headed in the other direction along the ridge towards the Coireachan Ruadha Crags for a bit, but soon decided that we would be wiser to descend back to the lochan. On the way up to the ridge, Shona had expressed some concern about how we would manage to get back down. We ended up having the best time ever descending the same scree slope we had climbed up. Safe in the knowledge that there were no drop-offs to negotiate, we virtually surfed the entire way down to the corrie floor. Back on solid ground, we skipped round the lochan and joined up with the path that took us winding back down to a cloud-free altitude.

On returning to the campsite, we noted that the high winds we had encountered on the ridge were still blowing steadily at sea level. Shona rustled up a nice evening meal, and as we sat upon fold-away chairs gazing up at where the Cuillins should be...     ...yes! It was clearing, ever so slowly, but they definately appeared to be coming back into view.

A few hours later and the ridge was standing proud and cloud-free. We went to bed, fingers and toes crossed that tomorrow would be clear also.

An early start on Thursday, I held my breath as I unzipped the tent, hooray! we had good conditions. No time to hang about, we got our gear organised and started up along the route we had taken the previous day. It was like climbing somewhere completely different. Without any cloud to restrict our view, we could see for miles with everything that we had missed before now visible.

On reaching the lochan at the corrie we were both speechless as we glanced up at the formidable scree slopes guarding the ridge. We couldn't believe how high and steep they truly were. Today we decided to skirt the edges of the scree and climb our way to the ridge up the rocks directly under the Inaccessible Pinnacle. This shaved quite a bit of time off our ascent from yesterday, giving us more time to scramble along the ridge towards Sgurr MhicChoinnich and Sgurr Thearlaich. The views up here today were the finest I've encountered while climbing. We moved onwards to Sgurr Alastair but alas the terrain became way too difficult to negotiate with Alfie having to be hoisted from ledge to ledge.

After having spent several hours up on the ridge, we decided to go back the way we had come and do another scree-surf down into the corrie. Again, it wasn't long before we had made it down to the lochan. We stopped here for a rest and chatted to some climbers who had been watching our progress through binoculars. They were amazed, when they noticed we had a spaniel with us on the ridge.

Once more we took to the path for the now familiar, but long walk back down to Glen Brittle, or as the lads yesterday had named it...      ...Glen Brutal!

Back at the tent it was now mid afternoon, and time to dismantle everything and pack up.
We made plans to get going and head for an overnight stop in Fort William. Maybe if we still had enough energy we would climb Ben Nevis tomorrow.

We made it to Fort William in the nick of time. At the Glen Nevis campsite there were only a handful of pitches remaining, due to the World Mountain Bike Championships taking place over the weekend. A quick pitch of the tent and we were off into town to grab some food. Our regular choice of venue in Fort William is the Grog and Gruel Pub, mainly because they are dog friendly, but also the atmosphere is lively and casual.


Friday morning arrived and the weather was still favourable. Our limbs were feeling okay, so a trip up to the summit of Ben Nevis was on the cards. We set ourselves a target and managed to make the ascent in under two and a half hours, which wasn't bad considering the route had been very busy. Up on the summit plateau there was still quite a bit of snow covering even in june! We lifted Alfie up onto the trig point, and for a brief time he became the highest dog in the UK!

After a quick lunch on the summit, we started back down. Again we were making a good steady pace as we planned to head back to Glasgow that day. In no time we were back at the visitor centre. Then it was a pleasant afternoons car journey via Glen Coe, Rannoch Moor and Loch Lomondside then on to the urban sprawl of Glasgow.

Sunday 24th October - Alfie swims!

Well I had to include this very short post for a monumental occasion. Alfie actually chose to swim in the sea today of his own free will! Yes, he has been forced to swim in the past. There was the time he fell into Linlithgow Loch while he wasn't looking where he was going. There's been a few occasions when I've given him a little push, and he's made straight for dry land. There was Ben Lui, when I had to drag him across a river. Today however, he bravely decided to swim out of his depth in the sea at Largs to get his ball back of his own accord. After discovering how easy it was he decided he quite enjoyed it, and was swimming about like a seasoned professional.
Sadly no camera to hand, but rest assured next time he's in the water I'll manage to get some images.

Sunday 3rd October 2010 - Ben Lui and Beinn a' Chleibh

Pronunciation/Translation: Ben Laoigh - byn loo-yee (hill of the calf), Beinn a' Chleibh - byn a chlayv (hill of the chest)

(Entry by Shona)

Well, today saw us heading up beyond Tyndrum and along to the car park on the A85 at Glen Lochy.
Arriving at around 4pm, we knew that once again we were pushing it for daylight, but I don't mind hiking in the dark. May as well get used to it before the winter months.

A short walk along the River Lochy leads us to where we are supposed to cross over towards the rail track. Guidebooks say there are stepping stones, but the water is slightly too high for that, so off with the gaiters and boots, trousers are rolled up above the knees as we head into the cold water. Bare feet struggling for grip on the smooth rocks mean we splash around and end up with wet trousers anyway. We make it to the opposite side only to look back and see Alfie still sitting on the river bank looking slightly scared and sad that we have left him behind.

After a lot of shouting and encouragement from us, he tries to get across but decides he'd rather bark and whine for a while. Eric decides to cross back over, leash in hand, to get him and I take the opportunity to snap a few photos.

After being dragged into the river, Alfie starts to swim and Eric drops his leash halfway across so that he isn't being pulled along.

Quick dry and re-booted, we skip over the rail tracks and head into the forest.

Soggy just doesn't describe the ground here. Every few steps see us up to our ankles in mud and sludge. After a while, we don't care about it anymore and just step where we want.

We cross another smaller river and head up through thicker forest. Eric ends up knee deep in sludge and has a wee moment where he thinks he can't get out but then realises that he is standing on his own foot. Hee hee.

Steep climbing needed to get level with the deer fence. No stile in sight, so we climb it army style!

We follow the fence up and then head towards the bealach. More soggy hiking and river jumping before we reach the ridge. The views are breathtaking! To the east we have Ben Lui and west is Beinn a' Chleibh. We decide to head up Ben Lui, (which takes the best part of an hour to summit and return to the bealach). The going is really hard. So steep and very rocky. Another summit reached in cloud cover, so no views.

We take a couple of quick snaps and head back down. Descent is quicker but still hard going and by the time we get back to the ridge it's around 6.30pm. Light is fading now, but we have bagged Ben Lui so we may as well do Beinn a' Chleibh while we are here.
This doesn't take us as long, but I find the going very hard. A lot of encouragement given by Eric, which I appreciate a lot as I don't want to give up and we summit, but don't hang around for long.

We return again to the ridge and start heading down towards the forest. Eric has a few slips which get him covered in mud but he is okay and we try to keep the pace up so that we catch as much light as we can. Hard to keep a fast pace when the ground is so uneven and slippery but we make it back to the deer fence and (not so gracefully) climb back over.

Heading back into the forest means we lose all light and torches are now out and in full use. Eric leads with his head torch and I follow with the dynamo light, which decides to pack in just when I need it the most.

We manage to find our way back to the stream, more by luck than judgement as we certainly didn't follow the same path, and we cross to the other side.
The going is tough as I try to follow Eric as closely as possible but have no light at all and have no idea what I'm stepping on, so it's my turn to stumble around like some drunken crazy forest ogre. A few sharp steps where the ground drops from under me mean I'm now feeling pain in my shoulder and knee, but can't stop now!
We slowly follow the path until it takes us through the forest to the rail tracks.

We return to the wide river. This time we decide to just wear our gear and get over it as quickly as possible. Alfie back on the leash and Eric takes the first step in, closely followed by Alfie and I.
Cold water seeps into our gaiters and boots as we splash our way across. I've no idea why, but I stumble and know that I'm going to dive into the current, so put my hands out to stop myself. I punch the rocks and make a big splash. Water up to my chin, but surprisingly it's not as cold as I thought it would be.

Eric turns around to see what the commotion is and shows some concern for me, but I'm okay and manage to get to the other side before I burst out laughing! Which makes Eric laugh too (I think he was trying not to!).

A short, soggy and squelchy walk back to the car so we can get into clean and dry clothes before we head to the Drovers for a drink and a warm dinner.
Had a great day with plenty of adventure, but Alfie still wasn't tired!

Climbing Tawoche, Nepal by Renan Ozturk and Cory Richards.

Well, I had hoped today to add Shona's writings from last weekend to the blog. Unfortunately I'm still unable to upload the pictures from her camera which has a memory card alien to all my laptop ports and usb cable options.

Instead I thought I'd share this really cool video produced by Renan Ozturk and Cory Richards of their recent journey to Nepal to climb Tawoche. I've spent many hours watching videos of expeditions to the Himalayas. This particular 16 minute wonder is a gem of climbing film production. Enjoy!

As It Happens from renan ozturk on Vimeo.

The West Highland Way 2010

Photographs along the West Highland Way, 10th - 14th May 2010

Alfie poses outside the Inversnaid Hotel, he's rewarded with the remains of a tin of spam which had become just too much for me to stomach.

The little jetty at Inversnaid. You can jack it all in here for the price of a single ticket across Loch Lomond to the bus stop at Inveruglas.

It's still very early stages of the Way, but the stretch from Inversnaid to Beinglas Farm is tough going. At one point I looked up to see the devil himself staring down...

...Alfie was totally oblivious of our company, but spookily managed  to fall off the top of a crag ladder further along the route!

A few shots of our accomodation. Karrimor Beta semi-geodesic. A cracking, wee tent!

Walking out of Tyndrum, greeted by the conical outline of Beinn Dorain.

Looking back at the Bridge of Orchy Hotel.

Beinn Achaldair and Beinn an Dothaidh.

Approaching Loch Tulla.

Artistic cairn on Mam Carraigh, Stob Ghabhar in the distant right.

Alfie inspects my pitching at the Drochaid Tolaghan by Inveroran Hotel.

Early morning views of the Black Mount.

Alfie posing again in his waterproofs, hehe.

Do we look tired?

Fresher than a daisy! hehe.