Climbing in the Isle of Skye 2012
Day 1, Monday June 18th;
After a long spring I felt the need to satisfy my wanderlust
and decided to head to the Isle of Skye for a week of hiking and climbing. So,
my bag packed, I boarded the 10.50 train out of Mallow and set off on the long
trip for Skye. The trip is tiring. A long combination of train and ferry
followed by more trains, eventually saw me board a bus on to the island at 11.30
Tuesday. Two more buses saw me north of Uig on the Trotternish peninsula and
finally commencing my route at 14.00.
South of the Quiraing |
Day 2, Tuesday June 19th;
Looking back to the start with Harris and Lewis beyond |
My plan was to do the Trotternish Ridge, on the northern part
of the island, over the first couple of days. This is one of the most unique
landscapes in Europe. It resembles a place where there was a
slippage of one tectonic plate over another. After so many hours traveling, my impatience finally got the better of me and
I alighted from the bus at Linicro. Wow, what a joy it was to stretch the legs. I was in great spirits as I set out across the boggy ground for my
first top Suidh a Mhinn. The weather was wonderful, warm, windless and blue
skies. The ground underfoot was nice and solid and dry after the recent dry
spell that the Highlands had enjoyed. Yet again my bag was bloody heavy. I was
carrying everything I needed for the whole trip including my tent, food and
clothes for the week. The initial pull to the first summit was fairly steep, and
when combined with the weight of the bag, I was left in no doubt now tough the next couple
of days were going to be. The wonderful vista across the blue sea to the
mountainous landscape of Harris and Lewis in the Outer
Hebrides, provided a good excuse to stop, rest, and enjoy the view. The entire
ridge is over 30 kilometres long and involves well in excess of 2000 metres of
climbing. My late start meant I would not be able to divide the outing equally,
so I would have a long day tomorrow. Still I would take it as it came and enjoy
the experience.
The Quaraing |
The first thing I noticed was just how dry the landscape
was. Where normally springs and streams would be plentiful, it was now bone dry. It
was clear that I would have to take care to ensure that I had sufficient water
at all times. This only added to the load, as I had to keep nearly two litres on
me just in case. From my first top a long gentle decent to cross my first
stream was followed by another long slog to the summit of Meall na Suiramach
and my first views of the wonderful otherworldly landscape that is the
Quiraing. This incredible place is one of the most spectacular spots on the
entire ridge, with its huge cliffs and spires, towering above Staffin Bay. To the
south the ridge itself can be seen stretching off into the distance in an
almost unbroken series of fantastic cliffs and lochlans. All this is framed by the
sweeping landscape below and the blue sea beyond. As if this wasn’t enough, in
the distance, the Highlands could be seen stretching away, in a continuous line
that promised other great days ahead.
The view from my tent. |
By now I had done seven kilometres and over 700mtrs of
ascent, so I took a well-deserved rest, and just enjoyed where I was and the
day. The Quiraing is a popular spot and there were quite a few tourists about.
I descended down and crossed the roadway at the col, and as I climbed the steady
pull towards the top of Bioda Buidhe, I soon left the people behind. I found myself
once more alone and enjoying the wilderness experience. Eventually the broad
flat summit was reached and I began to think about finding a spot to camp for
the night. A steep descent saw me arrive at a narrow col, with a deep
gully dropping to flatter ground below. There was no water near here so I
plodded on towards the next col where there was more of a promise of water. As
I neared the col I was delighted to see a gushing stream coming down from Beinn
Edra. Good flat dry ground about 100mtrs away from the stream decided the
issue; I had found my home for the night. It was a great relief to finally drop
the bag and take off the boots and wander about unencumbered. I took my time
choosing my spot to pitch the tent. I found a nice flat dry spot at the actual
col itself (Bealach Uige) and set up my home. The view was stupendous, and I spent the rest of
the evening in blissful solitude, enjoying one of the best wild camping
experiences I ever had. I ate, sat, read, and listened to music for the evening. Later I enjoyed the changing play of light on the fantastic landscape before me.
All the travel, and all the hauling of the bag, was well worth the effort. It was a joy to find
myself here, in this magic spot.
And so it continues |
After walking 13 kilometres and over 900mtrs of ascent the
day before I was under no illusions about the day to come. Twenty seven
kilometres and around 1600mtrs of climbing lay ahead, and the bag remained heavy
despite a little food having been consumed. Still I was not about to complain.
I awoke to another radiant morning with blue skies, and that incredible view to
sooth the soul. I lingered over my muesli and water (yum yum) and had a nice
strong coffee and biscuits. Soon enough I had everything packed up and was
ready for the off. The one drawback of camping in a col, is that in order to
continue, you have to climb out of it. The 320mtrs pull to the summit of Beinn
Edra soon got rid of any lingering cobwebs. Before me the ridge stretched for a
considerable distance both north and south. I was now in the heart of it, but it was still a long way to The Storr, which would be the highest point on the ridge, and mark
the beginning of the end of the route. West, lay the Outer Hebrides and east I
could see a large part of the western edge of the Scottish Highlands. Further
to the south the jagged pinnacles of the Cuillin could be seen, beckoning me on towards adventures for
the days to come.
A panorama from the summit of The Storr |
The Storr and the Old Man |
The final summit on the ridge |
Still no point in dallying as I still had a long way to go.
There followed a continuous succession of ups and downs, that steadily drained
the energy. Eventually, I found myself at the base of the climb up to The Storr.
Here I enjoyed a bite of lunch and replenished my water supply. The slog to the
top seemed endless but the rewards upon reaching the top more than made up for
the effort. Here you can stand atop the huge cliffs that drop sheer for over
200mtrs and look down on the fantastical collection of rock pinnacles and
protrusions, that in mist, make this a unique and haunting spot. Today it was
merely breath-taking with expansive vistas drawing the eye elsewhere. I
searched and searched, but could find no sign of the cave, where the paintings
featured in the Prometheus documentary 😀, are to be seen. I’m beginning to doubt
the veracity of it. What do you mean it was fiction 😲.
The view to Portree with the Cuillin beyond. |
Anyway from here the
end was in sight but it was still a depressingly long way to go. Portree
nestles around a beautiful cove on the eastern side of the island but from here
it was still a good thirteen kilometres away. Another long descent saw me
arrive at Bealach Beag. I was hoping to find some water here but there was none
to be had so I continued on for another couple of kilometres to Bealach Mor.
Again there was no water here so I had to drop the bag and walk downhill for
500mtrs to find a source. Back again with liquids replenished I set off up the
last climb on the route towards the summit of Ben Dearg over 200 punishing
meters above. I was quite tired by now, and was less than delighted, to find that
the final couple of kilometres before I hit the road at Achachork, were the
roughest and boggiest of the whole route. Eventually I reached the road and the
four remaining kilometres to the centre of the village were tough on my tired
feet. It was a little disconcerting to be back in a busy bustling tourist spot,
but the excellent fish and chips I enjoyed were a real treat. I didn’t have to
wait long for a bus that whisked me out of town, and soon I was pitching my tent
in the campsite in Sligachan. I was well tired by now, but a change of clothes
and a long hot shower, went some way to restoring my wellbeing. I settled down
to wait for the guy whom I had agreed to meet in order to climb the Cuillin
Ridge over the following few days. He didn’t show because a misunderstanding
about the rendezvous place, and it meant that I was alone. Another aside is that
the midges were absolutely awful. All you had to do was stop in the one spot
for a few minutes and they would find you. Almost immediately a cloud of the
vicious f##kers would envelope you. Still the site is located in a wonderful
spot and the view towards the northern end of the Cuillin is breath-taking. I
was looking forward to the following days.
Day 4, June 21st;
Sgurr nan Gillean from Sligachan |
I had perused the guidebook and map, and decided that Sgurr
nan Gillean would be a good outing. The day was good, with a high layer of cloud, that
was well above the tops. My route was to ascend Sgurr Beag first to gain the
ridge and then northeast to the summit. I then hoped to descend the west ridge and climb
Am Basteir. I was feeling the effects of
the previous days but it was a welcome relief to have a much lighter sack to
haul. My feet were also suffering the effects and I think a new pair of boots
is required for these multi day excursions. I had the day long to complete the
route so I set off at a leisurely pace.
I followed the path in by the Sligachan river until I was under the
cliffs on the western flank of Marsco. Here I left the path and easily crossed
the river. I then started the climb towards the dark gabbro slabs that rose towards
Sgurr Beag. I was really looking forward to getting my hands on this famously
rough rock and it didn’t disappoint. It is terribly coarse, and I imagine that
anybody unfortunate enough to slide down it, would have the skin scoured from
their body very quickly indeed. Still it was wonderful, and the climbing was
easy, yet interesting. Nice steady progress was made and soon enough I had attained
the main ridge. Here, the alpine qualities of these famous mountains, were much
in evidence and brought the Aiguilles Rouges very much to mind.
Sgurr nan Gillean's elegant summit |
The dramatic Sgurr na h-Uamha |
Looking in the Sligachan Valley |
To the south, Sgurr na h-Uamha provides a spectacular and
fitting end to this famous ridge, but my destination lay northwest. The ridge
ahead was engagingly narrow, and gradually rose towards a pleasingly elegant
summit. It drew me forward, and ever more difficult and exposed scrambling had
to be negotiated before I arrived at the small airy summit slab. This was a wonderful
eerie and a great spot to sit and enjoy a bite to eat. To the west and south
the entire range was on display, and it truly inspired. Away to the southeast,
the beautiful outlier Bla Bheinn, was another attraction. Pinnacle Ridge to the
north, lay in wait for another day. My descent route looked narrow and tricky,
and whispered that all my cares were not yet behind me. I set off down
carefully and things progressed smoothly, until I came to a crenelated narrow
section, which required me to down climb a vertical chimney. There were
adequate hand and footholds, so this soon passed. An easy path then led down to the
bealach under Am Basteir. I was quite weary now, and I was in two minds as to
whether to continue up the ridge to Am Basteir. I decided to climb it, and set on
up the easy ridge. Airy but easy scrambling led to a sudden drop a little way
short of the summit. I knew there was a way to avoid it and continue, but as I
was quite tired, I couldn’t be bothered trying to find the route, and I returned to the
col. A long descent via the Bhasteir Gorge led pleasantly back to the valley floor
and the tent. I needed some supplies so I decided to catch a bus into Protree
for the shops. I was just stowing away my climbing gear when I spotted the bus
rounding the headland about a quarter mile away. I changed as fast as I could,
and made a dash for the bus stop, only to see him drive off when I was only
100mtrs away. I decided to try hitching instead, and lo and behold, I had a drive
in a couple of minutes. A short turnaround in Portree saw me back in my tent an
hour later just before it started to rain. It rained for most of the night but
I didn’t mind as I was after another good day.
Day 5; June 22nd;
Today dawned cloudy but dry. I had looked at my options over
the next few days, and decided to head to the southern end of the Cuillin, and
camp either in Camasunary or at Lough Coruisk. This meant following the path
along the river Sligachan through Glen Sligachan, then along Strath na
Creitheach until you pass Loch na Creitheach and then enter Camasunary Bay.
This is a well-made thirteen kilometre trail, that wends its way easily through
wonderful scenery. As you crest the
little col by An t-Sron, the immaculate beauty of the bay is revealed. Framed on
either side by mountains, and the islands of Egg and Rum in the distance, it is
a magic spot indeed. This, coupled with the fact that the day was after clearing,
and blue skies and sunshine were once again to the fore, meant I was having a
great time. I crossed the grassy field from what was a fine dwelling nestling
on the eastern side, to what was supposed to be a bothy on the western side. I
didn’t know what this was like, but when I arrived, I was delighted to discover
that it was in good condition, clean, with four bedrooms. Each of which had raised
sleeping platforms. I immediately decided to stay here for a couple of days.
I unpacked all my stuff in one of the rooms and relaxed for
a bit and had a brew. I spent a little time exploring my surroundings, and as
time passed, my enchantment with my new home only increased. After a while I
found myself eying the splendid rocky mountain called Sgurr na Stri, which the
guide book said offered a top class grade three scramble to its summit. As it
was so near, it would be a shame not to have a look, so off I set. It didn’t
disappoint. Even though it is only 494mtrs high, I enjoyed a wonderful scramble
to its summit, that was on pure gabbro from around 200mtrs upwards. The summit,
or should I say summits, are split by deep gulch. I clambered across to the
western top, and there, I enjoyed a view to rival any I have ever seen. It is
reputed to be the best view in Scotland, and I would not argue. From here, the
entirety of the Cuillin are revealed, rising around the glistening Loch Coruisk. I sat
a fair while and just soaked it in. I felt fortunate indeed to be in such a
spot, on such a day. No matter what happened from here I felt that this trip
could now be classed as a success. Eventually I made to return down, initially
heading north, before picking my way carefully down steep ground, until I reached
the river that drains Loch na Creitheach.
And so back to the bothy, where later I was joined by five young Belgian
hikers who provided good company for the evening. That night I slept like a
baby.The view of Loch Coruisk and the Cuillin from Sgurr na Stri |
Day 6, June 23rd;
Today the plan was to once again attain the Cuillin Ridge. I
went around the coastal path from Camasunary to Coruisk. Even though this is
only four kilometres it is quite rough and is a little scrabbly in parts, and
even has its own “bad step” which provides a short but airy problem. The day
was unfortunately overcast and there was a constant threat of rain. The rugged
terrain and seascapes still made it feel quite exotic to me, and I was once
again enjoying myself immensely. It took over one and a half hours to get to
the stepping stones at the outlet of Loch Coruisk, and by now the day was deteriorating
yet further. The rain occasionally came, and at times, the cloud was
covering the steep slabs a mere 200mtrs above sea level. After the stepping
stones, I picked my way up those slabs, until I came to the flattish ground that
had the wonderfully named Mad Burn, draining from An Garbh Coire. This I crossed,
and made my way up the blunt nose that ascended towards Gars Bheinn. I was now
in the clouds, and when I reached an easement in the gradient, I began to doubt
that I was in the right area, and feared I had ventured too far to the
left/south. I sat down and resolved to wait for a break in the clag before I
made a decision whether to venture on or not.
I had been
considering climbing the spur that let directly to Sgurr a Choire Bhig, but at a
grade three scramble, and considering the weather, I opted instead for the grade
one route to Gars-Bheinn. Soon enough a slight clearance came, and I was able to
see that I was actually right where I was supposed to be. Strange mountains in
the mist and rain can be intimidating for the solo climber, and here I was beset
by self-doubt, and a feeling of vulnerability. Still, I resolved to continue on,
but I would not force the issue, and I would turn around when I felt I needed to. So, decision
made, I headed for a steep narrow promontory, that signalled the start of the
route to the summit. When I arrived here, I was very disappointed to find that
the rock was Basalt, and was horribly slippery and fractured. Though the
climbing was easy it felt exposed and horrible. I took the easiest route I
could find, and resolved to descend easier ground a little further up, if things
didn’t improve. Onward and upward I went and I soon saw that the way didn’t
actually stick to the crest of the ridge, but went up a scree slope on the
right. Onward ever upward and suddenly the summit headwall loomed fearsomely
out of the mist. It looked desperate, and I could see no obvious way to surmount
it.
I sat and figured
what to do, and looked again at the guide book. It was only a grade one scramble
so there had to be an easy solution. Sure enough, the book told of a path on a
ledge on the right hand side that rounded all difficulties, and allowed for easy
access to the summit. This I followed and soon found myself on top. I decided
to continue along the ridge to the next top Sgurr a Choire Bhig, and then decide
what to do next. I went along the airy but easy ridge, and upon reaching the
top, decided to retrace my steps and descend. There was no point in staying on
top as there was nothing to see, and I could have been anywhere. So, down easily I went, marvelling at the peridotite
boulders that littered the corrie floor. Eventually I reached the Mad Burn, and
descended a different route. This brought me directly to the wonderfully
situated SMC hut at Loch na Cuilce. Back again along the coastal path, where I
got my first ever sighting of a Basking Shark. The giant was about a half
kilometre off shore and stayed on the surface for about ten seconds before it
once again slipped from view. Eventually the bothy once again came into view,
and once again, I relaxed for the evening. This evening I was joined by a tall
English gentleman, who quickly got a nice fire going in the hearth. Later on, two rangy Dutch menarrived out of the gloom, who were on a flying three day visit to the island.
Later still, another man arrived, who had been on a solo attempt of the ridge. His tale of a dropped rucksack down a steep gully, had us spellbound as he relayed his epic story.
Day 7, June 24th;
Bla Bheinn |
Home sweet home |
Day 8, June 25th;
Today I began the long journey home. Again it was cloudy but
dry so after breakfast I packed up and returned to Sligachan, all the while, enjoying my last
views of the majestic scenery. After a three and a half hour hike I arrived at
the road at 12.30 and was making my way to the bus stop when I stuck out my
thumb for an oncoming car. Lo and behold he stopped, and I enjoyed a wonderful
conversation with a weathered man, who was a surveyor of the native Caledonian forests
for the government. The trip to Kyle of Lochalsh flew by and I was only sorry
that I had to say goodbye to this articulate and entertaining guy. So, once again I commenced
the long sequence, of train, boat and train trips that saw me arrive
home 26 hours later. Tired, but well satisfied with all that had passed. I am
already relishing the prospect of a return trip. It is truly one of the most
beautiful and wild places in western Europe.
2 comments:
Fantastic trip report Stephen, sounds like an absolutely incredible place. Glad to hear you got good weather. Fantastic photos, really inspired to head there for my holidays this month. Keep those dates in mind!
Fab write up Stephen. The first tree days sounded a wee bit tiring. And as Richard says no bad ohotaes either...
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