The Eastern Fannaichs

This trip was an ambitious plan to go camping for an unspecified number of days in the Ullapool area, climbing the Fannaichs first, then, weather permitting, going on to tackle the Beinn Dearg range. I don't know why but I had had a vague feeling of apprehension all the first day during the trip up. I had worried about missing the train to Inverness, not finding somewhere to have lunch in Inverness (actually I eventually found a nice fish and chip shop), not finding a postcard for Aunt Ailie, not finding bread (!) - got it in the Co-op - not getting off at Braemore, not being able to lug the pack over the moors, not finding a suitable camping site...

Well, everything had gone fine. Carrying a full pack over the moors for about 6km hadn't been too arduous and I had found a suitable camping spot just beside Loch a' Mhadaidh, at a height of about 570m. The only drawback was the weather. It was supposed to have been sunny, and almost was but as night fell over Loch a'Mhadaidh the cloud was right down over the hills - in fact most of the peaks had been shrouded even at 4.30pm when I arrived - and there was a freezing north wind coming over the loch. The cold was perhaps the most depressing thing - I couldn't sit outside and enjoy the scenery for example.

In the circumstances, I have to admit that I was already missing home and family a bit, and expecting that by Monday night I would be ready to get home come rain or shine. But perhaps, I reflected, that was just my mood at the moment. So I lay in the tent, trying to keep warm, studying the map and reading Fionn MacColla's "And the Cock Crew" - a book I had chosen from Morningside Library to add a cultural backdrop to this expedition into deepest Clearance Country…

Morale started low this second morning of the trip, when I looked out of the tent and saw Meall a' Chrasgaidh in cloud. I waited but the cloud seemed if anything to be coming lower. I toyed with the idea of calling the whole thing off, but having come so far, this seemed ridiculous. After having had breakfast, planning routes for that day and the next, washing up, making sandwiches, packing the little rucksack and going to the loo (the next dip along), Meall a' Chrasgaidh was still hidden but the cloud had stopped getting lower and the col was clear. So I set off, not hopeful of any views but determined to bump off five Munros.

It was very windy up there most of the way along the ridge - very cold and always misty on the tops, though not usually at the cols. Starting at above 500m it didn't take long to reach the first summit, and thereafter the day was mostly just tramping from one summit to the next. Sgurr Mor, the highest point, was the killer - steep, thick mist, wet and very windy. I met a few people on Meall Gorm and An Coileachan, but in general the ridge was fairly deserted.

An Coileachan from Meall Gorm

Finally on my homeward route, as I skirted round Sgurr Mor towards Beinn Liath Mhor Fannaich, the whole ridge cleared except Sgurr Mor, and what's more, it stayed clear the rest of the day. So I got my views and piccies. I chose a non-standard descent route from Beinn Liath Mhor Fannaich, which turned out to be very steep and painfully slow as a result, and this was then followed by a trackless return round the loch to the campsite. Once back, and having had dinner my morale was somewhat higher, as was the temperature, thankfully!

<U>Sgurr Mor</U>
My legs are tired, my feet are sore.
The zigzag path winds up Sgurr Mor
The screaming wind is in my face
A high, cold, wet, mysterious place
I dreamed of being here some day
And is this far enough away?
The dream is here, it's where you are
A Fannaich further north by far.
So take me up, and blow me down
And lay me on your holy ground.
Then show me what I dreamed to see
And make me dream, and make me free.