Collected Musings of a Hill Wanderer

In light of the weather forecast, a trip to Scotland last weekend might have seemed an odd choice to make. After all, one other occasion where I set off north in search of consistent improvement over the course of a day had me arriving a day too early. However, I wasn’t so fussy and I set off regardless with the options of exploring around Loch Ericht near Dalwhinnie or reprise a part of the West Highland Way that I haven’t hiked for a number of years now.

In the event, I plumped for the latter and arrived at a rainy roadside at the head of Glen Coe. Buachaille Etive Mor was shrouded in low cloud and it might have been sensible to consider adjourning to the King’s House Hotel and await the next bus north for a day of travelling in place of the planned walk. Duly equipped, I faced the dampness and all it took for things to dry out was the length of time that it takes to get from the A82 to the hotel along the West Highland Way. This change of affairs certainly put paid to any fears of there being a long wet walk ahead of me.

Soon enough, the track of the WHW started to attract journeying types like myself and others doing the entire thing. With a well frequented track such as this, it is too easy to get your normal walking rhythm disturbed by the incompatible pace at which others are going. Though there were showers, the clearance continued as I shortened both the distance to Kinlochleven and the amount of time that I was to spend shadowing the A82. Thankfully, the road wasn’t too busy and road noise was none too intrusive. Even with the prospect of being passed by slowcoaches, I still took my chances to look across the glen to savour whatever brightness happened to spotlight the slopes. Making decent headway across the slopes of Beinn a’ Chrualaiste ensured that Altnafeadh was reached soon enough.

After a short break, I took to the track up the Devil’s Staircase. Having passed the way once before, I knew that this was going to be hard leg work. That time, I was going the other way on a day that was cloudy but dry if reluctant to leave the sun out, a marked contrast to a sunny afternoon and evening spent in Glen Nevis the previous day. The descent down the Devil’s Staircase lingered in my memory but I had forgotten the ardour of the ascent from Kinlochleven and how long it took; that was something that I was set to discover later. Going at things in the opposite way to everyone else and during the afternoon too almost guaranteed that my hike was my own and without intrusion from others. It was so different last Saturday with a human train trailing down the steep slope and with me at or near its head. Stops were in order on the ascent and I did get passed near the top by someone carrying no pack. My having one with all my weekend bits and bobs contained therein meant that I was unable to offer much of a contest anyway so I was far from bothered.

A well earned break was taken where the gradient levelled off on the bealach between Beinn Bheag and Stob Mhic Mhartuin. Letting the hoards continue on their way, I noted the more friendly slopes round about me and got to picking up a clear track, boggy in parts, as I surmounted the lesser visited 616 m high summit of Beinn Bheag. The reward was good panoramic views subject to low cloud and any rain showers staying away. Finding some shelter from the wind, I set to making sense of what lay about me and slaying any demons that beset me when looking at old photos. Being able to pinpoint where I was became to key to the task; it’s hard to work out what’s in a photo when you are unclear where it was taken. Setting the map with my compass helped again although finding that two maps are needed for the exercise has its drawbacks.

After descending Beinn Bheag to the WHW again, I opted for Stob Mhic Mhartuin in the knowledge that I had time available with Kinlochleven being just a few hours away. My Harvey map showed a track marked leading up to the 707 m high summit, a little surprising since it showed nothing on Beinn Bheag though I suspect that this may be due to Stob Mhic Mhartuin being a possible stepping stone on a traverse of the Aonach Eagach. The slopes beyond Stob Mhic Mhartuin looking amenable but, inviting as they were, Sron a’ Choire Odhar-bhig and its neighbours were left for another time; one with more sun would be ideal for photographic pursuits in an area where they should be splendidly fruitful.

After a saunter about its top, I descended Stob Mhic Mhartuin to recommence my journey to Kinlochleven. The morning rush along the WHW has passed so walking a busy old military road had become a far more relaxing prospect. That is not to say that there were no other folk going the way but the well scattered mix of fellow walkers and runners was a nicer one than feeling surrounded by bunched up groups. The threat of rain had nigh on completely receded but cloudiness reigned unopposed with the occasional insurgency of sunlight. Any glance east revealed sunlit hummocks in the distance, an observation that cannot but cause one to wonder if they were in the right place but I was where I was and enjoying it anyway. In any event, the sun was greater headway as views over Blackwater Reservoir and Meall Bad a’ Bheithe opened out for fuller inspection.

Progress towards Kinlocheleven was good but not sufficient to make the idea of catching the 15:40 bus to Fort William a reality. Saying that, I was well in time for the 16:40 so travel plans remained on course. The final descent into Kinlochleven was steep, steep enough that gambolling along wasn’t an option and especially so with all the twists and turns that are taken. Camera work was slowing things a little too because the sun was winning out over the clouds. In fact, warm sun was the order of things on the final approaches to Kinlochleven. My arrival into the village saw me leave the WHW for a more direct approach around by the Blackwater Hostel. After some time for ablutions and a little shopping, I set to awaiting the bus after what had been a good day out. It remains an area worthy of revisiting so I’ll continue to keep it in mind as a definite possibility; you always want to leave somewhere as scenic as this with a possible reason for a return, if the opportunity should ever offer itself.

The past weekend saw me set off on an incursion into Scotland. My arrival at the road end for the White Corries ski centre was in utterly unpromising conditions: continuous rain and low cloud obscuring the tops. Oddly undeterred, I stuck with my original plan to ply the West Highland Way all of the way to Kinlochleven only to receive continual encouragement from a steady improvement in the weather; it dried up after King’s House Hotel with light showers continuing until the middle of the day and sun coming out from the clouds for a grand evening. From the top of the Devil’s Staircase, I popped up onto Beinn Bheag and Stob Mhic Martuin before carrying on towards Kinlochleven. Those ascents afforded opportunities to disentangle and put names to the various humps and bumps that surrounded me, a matter that has perplexed me every time that I get to looking at photos taken when I was last this way a few years back. Ideas for future hikes have been planted in my mind too so the proverbial ideas shelf continues to be replenished.

Having been forewarned about a sailing event in Fort William, I opted for a night in Inverness instead. Saying that, Fort William didn’t look so overrun while I was there but my plans were set and I sat back to see the sights through the coach windows. A Sunday morning stroll changed my view of Inverness from a less than positive one to a more favourable standpoint. The cause of this change of heart was my discovery of the delights of walking by the River Ness and its islands in bright sunshine. My first visit to Inverness was on a cloudy dreich day prone to dampness, never good conditions to see anywhere, and I popped out to Urquhart Castle on the shores of Loch Ness without ever venturing around by the Ness islands in the city itself. In some respects, I am amazed by that omission but it seems that the Great Glen Way isn’t routed that way for nothing. If anything, my time in Inverness on this occasion may have been overly short; after all, I did have a long train journey ahead of me. Even so, the delights of the city displayed themselves so well that they could be translated into the traditional Scottish phrase "Haste Ye Back".

That may well set things in play for a mental distillation session ahead of my now habitual longer summer break. This year, there isn’t a single silver bullet like the Western Isles became last year and foul weather alternatives are in order too, even with the Met Office’s optimism. There’s nothing for it but to lay out all of the possibilities somewhere and assemble something reasonable from them. In the meantime, though, that Lochaber hike commands a longer description so my intention is that one will appear on here in due course.

Maybe I should note down what I have captured in photos but there are occasions when I go looking at one and it takes some time to fathom what I have gone and captured on film or memory card. It doesn’t follow always that I resolve a query to my satisfaction while seated in the comfort of my own home so my mind ends turning to the possibility of a return to an area. such is the case with the section of the West Highland Way between Glen Coe and Kinlochleven but there is another idea for the same area afoot too.

Perusal of the SMC’s The Corbetts & Other Scottish Hills has planted in my head the scheme of walking up Glas Bheinn. Given the name is the Gaelic for grey hill, it’s probably sensible to assume there are a few of these about so I suspect that a few words on its location wouldn’t go astray. The one that I have in my sights lies between Loch Eilde Mor and Blackwater Reservoir, in countryside that is rarely frequented if my walks along the former can be any guide. Assuming cooperation from the weather, that almost guarantees generous panoramas of the surrounding hill country with the rocky Mamores forming part of the fare. The gradients look none too frightening on a map so it might even be my type of hill and, if it puts paid to any questions as what is captured in my photos, then that makes it even better. I may not have a Scottish excursion in mind right now but it never hurts to have something on the ideas shelf for ready deployment in the event of an opportunity surprising you like Scotland has done on me on many an occasion.

After walking it in a piecemeal fashion over the course of a few years, I finally completed the West Highland Way in August of 2007. Following that and a number of entries on this blog, I set up a West Highland Way section on my photo gallery with a view to completing it with more new photos in the fullness of time. In fact, it has taken until now for me to add photos for the piece between Inverarnan and Bridge of Orchy and there could be more when I get to looking at some of the photos that I captured on film about the same time (I was capturing more vistas on film than digitally in those days, a trend that was reversed in the intervening period).

Looking back over photos can set the mind to wandering and various ideas began to bubble up in mine. For one thing, I am considering re-walking the WHW between Glen Coe and Kinlochleven on a sunnier day than the one on which I actually walked that part of the trail. That would let me acquire more pleasing photos than what I have for for it already. It wouldn't be the first time that I walked a section of the way since I trekked the section between Kinlochleven and Fort William twice. A cloudy day attenuated photographic exploits the first time around and the weather that I enjoyed on the second occasion couldn't have been better. Another part that saw me revisiting was a short stretch east of Tyndrum and that wasn't done for any other reason than to make good use of a wait for the next train or bus to come and allow me to continue my southbound journey after a weekend spent in Argyll.

Other thoughts followed with explorations of the hill country at either side of the way lining up for consideration. One such option was a trek from Inverarnan to Dalmally that I undertook last May but there remain many others. The hills at either side of Strath Fillan attract attention for one thing and those near Tyndrum such as Ben Lui and Ben Dubhcraig enticing the mind, if only to confirm what hills are in photos that I already made. Looking towards Bridge of Orchy yields a number of options with making an ascent of the rounded humps of Beinn Udlaidh and Beinn Bhreac-liath as just one of this. My head for heights is far from being of climbing calibre so I prefer my hills not to have frightening gradients when it comes to reaching their summits and, more importantly, getting back down again. The location of the twosome in question must mean that appealing views towards the Black Mount and Rannoch Moor are on offer. Then, there's the prospect of longer walks either through Glen Lyon to Killin or through Glen Kinglass to the shores of Loch Etive with options from the foot of that glen to continue to Glen Coe or Taynuilt. These options might make for two-day backpacking hikes for when I finally get to add wild camping to my repertoire of outdoors skills but one also could be seen as a long day walk.

All in all, casting my mind over older outings has yielded ideas for the future and in an area that hasn't seen my footfall for a while. They might come in handy for an occasion that surprises me with good weather and it's never any harm to see a new side of an area that you already visited.

While 2009 has yet to see its first proper hill outing of the year for me, I have to say that anyone who doesn’t make the most of the first half of any year is missing out on something special. It is nice to think that everything is on the up and your next outing could be more wonderful than the last. You are less likely to be overrun by hoards too and there’s much to admire from the skeletal forms of the trees to the way that fine landscape is enlivened by the gentler light. I can see some being put out by such things as the shortness of the days or the lingering feel of winter but I see wonder in these too and it allows one to be ready for the annual crescendo that is April, May and even June. After that, i feel that the year passes its peak and regard the traditional summer holiday months of July and August as being ill-timed but that means that we are more likely to have things to ourselves, never a bad thing. Here’s how the first half of 2008 fared.

January

Casting my mind back to January, I remember expressing an inclination to stay home when the weather wasn’t so inviting. What had been a tactical device for ensuring that necessary life chores got done had developed a less than desirable side effect: being too choosy about when to go walking among those wonderful hills. A sunny Sunday at the start of the month drew me out on a cycle between Macclesfield and Leek with a diversion round by the Roaches on the way back. It was a good start to the year and I followed it up by strengthening my resolve in order to head to Leek for a circular walk through Staffordshire’s muddy moorlands (encountering clay was rather apt given the county’s fame for pottery production) that took me over Hen Cloud. The need for inner strength was prompted by greyness of skies earlier in the day but that soon evaporated to uncloak blue skies and unleash the sun to do its magic, a sort of reward for my endeavours.

February

That "get out there regardless of everything but personal safety and other much more important things" mentality was to serve me well in February. When a dusting of snow presented itself, I was off to Northumberland to explore more of the hills near Wooler. There was an ample coating of powder dry snow about and that both enlivened the views and brought out a little of the inner child in mind as I bobbed downhill on my return to Wooler. The middle of the month saw that replaced by a settle spell of glorious if nippy weather that allowed me to narrow the gap between Haworth and Gargrave in my Pennine Way hiking project. In line with the "bag-of-nails" approach that I have been adapting, a southbound walk from Gargrave to Lothersdale came first with a northbound hike from Haworth to Ickornshaw following it. The narrow gap between Ickornshaw and Lothersdale remains a possible irritation but it’s also another excuse to revisit those parts, even if public footpath signposting isn’t what it might be. The end of the month saw me undertake my visit outing of the year in Scotland with a wander through the countryside by Tarbet and Arrochar. I needed my new found resolve as the showers started to gang up on me with the aging of the day; it was certainly good weather for any frogs that I saw.

March

In contrast to February, March was a much quieter month when it came to exploring the outdoors. A heavy flu was partly to blame for that but I felt a need to clear out some physical and mental clutter too, an activity that kept me busy over the early and white Easter. The latter fact should have drawn me out because a good walk is often good for garbage clearance but I ended up looking out at the Maxonian (that’s to Macclesfield what Mancunian is to Manchester) hills instead.

April

April’s two excursions mean that I was among hills instead of looking at them from afar. The first of these saw me traipse along part of the Offa’s Dyke Path near Knighton on a day that had me frequenting both Powys in Wales and Shropshire in England. I even dropped in on Church Stretton on the way home for a short sortie that preceded a heavy shower. Another weekend trip to Scotland followed with my exploring around the villages of Glencoe and Kinlochleven. The weather couldn’t have been better and snow still lay on the mountain tops though I remained at lower levels. On the way home, I began to feel that I had seen enough of the pervading browns of the hills for one sitting.

May

May made another good month for wandering through open hill country and its being topped and tailed by bank holidays surely helped. The first of these saw me exploring Teesdale on a grey if dry day with sun struggling to make any headway through the cloud cover. Even so, I got taken along another part of the Pennine Way and it made for a good day out. The next day was a damp affair so my next trip took advantage of the fact that normal weekday train services run on a bank holiday to get to Bethesda in North Wales for what turned out to be a linear hike to Bangor by way of the foothills of the Carneddau and the North Wales Path. Cloud broke to release the sun even if sea fog somewhat curtailed the sunshine later on in my walk. Another Welsh outing followed with my planned walk near Dolwyddelan being displaced by an out and back hike from Dolgarrog to Llyn Eigiau due to transport misinformation. It didn’t matter because a good day of walking followed anyway. Scotland surprised me with perfect weather for the second bank holiday weekend of the month, so much so that I was barely ready to take full advantage of what was offer and I left for home with a certain amount of regret. That’s not to say that a good tramp from Inverarnan to Dalmally or a few hours spent on Kerrera wasted the time that I had but I would have rathered more extensive planning than was done. If I had known what was ahead of me, I might have booked some time off from work and made a longer weekend of it. Having Monday would have avoided the bank holiday traffic and allowed for some very enjoyable walking too. Maybe the weather forecasters were so taken up by what was coming to England that they forgot Scotland…

June

June started well with a walk along the Cumbria Way through Langstrath on my way from Borrowdale into Great Langdale. Though I had glimpsed the Langdale Pikes from afar, this was to be my first visit to Great Langdale and, though cloud got to obscure the sun as the day wore on, a return to these wondrous parts remains in order. A primarily social visit to Ireland followed with my only snatching short strolls on a visit to Killarney on a damp day. Nevertheless, the sight of Torc waterfall retained its appeal and I was sorely tempted by the idea of going further along the Kerry Way.