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Sgurr Mor
Map I had fallen a bit behind schedule this year and wanted to get in a trip to polish off four or even five of the last six Munros and give me a chance of finishing this year. Consequently I arranged a few days off work and set off on the Saturday (2nd) at 7.00 to drive all the way up to within striking distance of Loch Arkaig where I hoped to do Sgurr Mor one day and Sgurr nan Coireachan, Garbh Chioch Mhor and Sgurr na Ciche the next. I made good progress until Glasgow where it took me 1.5 hours to get across the city on the gridlocked M8. Dreadful. After Glasgow there was still a lot of traffic heading north, all the way to Fort William, including one incorrigible sodomite in a camper van and another of the ilk driving a coach, both of whom seemed happy to dawdle away at the head of a long line of cars, all unable to overtake.
I reached the small settlement of Roy Bridge at 6.00 and got a bunk in my own tiny 2-bunk room at the Roy Bridge Hotel for £12.50 - it was fairly basic but ok for the price. There was no vegetarian option on offer at the hotel, however, so I walked along the road to the nearby Stronlossit Inn and had the 'vegetarian dish of the day' - a rather nice vegetable tagine which turned out to be a sort of sweet and sour veg dish with rice and a few chips. They also had some real ales on offer there so I sampled a couple of pints of 'Trade Winds' - very nice. About £15 all together including a bit of a tip for the foreign waitresses. On the Sunday I rose at 7.00 and after making myself some porridge and a coffee left the bunkhouse at 7.55. It was doing some light rain at this time but I knew it would take me an hour just to drive along the Loch Arkaig track and hoped for better things by then. The road along the north side of Loch Arkaig is single track and swerves and dips its way along 12 miles or more, for nearly all of which you have to stay in third gear. Accordingly by the time I'd booted up amidst the midges at the end of the public road it was pushing 9.00 when I set off. There were a few other cars parked there and a group of three blokes were just leaving. Fortunately the weather had dried up and looked ok now.
A rough, unclassified road led to Glendessarry Lodge where I left the track and turned north onto a footpath by the Allt na Feithe. The path here made its way up a gradual incline through long grass, stones and streams but remained quite distinct and easy to follow. At the top of the incline was the pass between the hills of Druim a Chuirn and Fraoch Bheinn and here, at the 350 metre level the land levelled out in a broad, boggy expanse. (The lodge had been at about the 50 metre level). There was a further walk of nearly a mile now before the ground began to fall away again as it dropped down into the lonely depths of the next glen, Glen Kingie.
I tried to minimise the height loss by contouring round the shoulder of the hill to my left but in the end there was no option but to bite the bullet and drop down to the river. I crossed this without any problem and scrambled up to the stalkers' path which runs east to west along the glen. On the way down from the pass I had seen a dragonfly; I heard it first, making a sort of clicking, ratchety noise, but whether this was a warning or a mating call I don't know.
The stalkers' path was ok as paths go: easy to follow, not overly steep and yet it seemed to go on and on. The path is supposed to run west for a while then do a dog-leg turn before climbing back up to the low point on the ridge between An Eag and Sgurr Beag (I was going to have to surmount SB before I could tackle the final climb up Sgurr Mor.) There seemed to be dozens of dog-legs though - every time I reached one I'd think 'Aha, the dog leg turn!' only to find it irresistibly turning west again a few yards further on. Away to the west I could see the head of the valley and it seemed that no matter how far I walked it never got any nearer. It was becoming a real slog - the earlier stages had been hot and humid though, making me sweat quite a lot, and maybe this had sapped my energy a bit. Finally the correct dog-leg appeared 'Hip, Hip.. woof!' I thought, although by this stage 'Hip, Hip.. yelp!' would have been more like it. Things improved now though as at least I was heading in the right direction and not past my target. The person who made this path was very fond of zigzags, by the way - I must have walked twice as far as it looks on the map.
At the crest of the ridge the path continues down towards Loch Quoich but my way lay via a side path which headed north-east up the side of Sgurr Beag. Yet again there were zigzags to make it easier but it was becoming hard work for me by now. Some wispy cloud blew in, obscuring the views as I climbed, but I soldiered on and eventually reached the top of Sgurr Beag. I then had to drop down 300 ft or so to the col between Sgurr Beag and Sgurr Mor and as I did so who should I see coming the other way but the three blokes from the car park. I said to one of them 'you're going round an unusual way' to which he replied that they had come up the flanks of the ridge between SM and Sgurr an Fhuarain because after SM they intended going on to do 'the other three' ie Sgurr na Ciche etc. That sounded like a very hard day to me - I was already knackered and I hadn't done the Munro yet. I wished them well and was soon down at the col. From there the route to the summit of Sgurr Mor wasn't too bad, a few more zig-zags - the only problem was my energy dip. I got to the top at 13.22, two minutes longer than the SMC guide said I should take. There was a conical cairn looming over the rocky summit table and I took a rest by it - I needed it for my heart-rate had hardly gone below 150 for the last couple of hours. The three blokes had said they'd had no trouble crossing the river by their route so I set off down the same way - it would save me having to climb over Sgurr Beag again.
The track took me easily down to the connecting ridge and as soon as I got to it I abandoned the path and struck off straight down the uniformly steep hillside. I was glad I'd not been with the 3 blokes coming up for it must have been a really hard ascent this way. Even going down I had to keep stopping. The first 20 minutes were ok, down an evenly steep, grassy hillside, but after that the quadriceps started to protest a bit and the lower I got the longer grew the grass. It became a real pain getting through it for as ever the nymphs and spirits of the valley wanted me to stay and held onto my ankles to try and keep me there. At last I got down to the river - Glen Kingie extended into the distance to the east and west - and crossed it easily enough. Then despite my knackeredness I had no choice but to scale the intervening pass heights again in order to return to Glen Dessarry. That was really hard - more long grass and bog although I saw a couple of small, brown lizards to make up for it. Anyway I eventually got to the broad top of the pass again, plodded across it and descended to Glendessarry Lodge OK, left knee beginning to twinge a bit. From there it was a simple walk back along the track to the car (16.43). I rang Roy Bridge and booked myself into the bunkhouse for another night. I was famished though and for some reason yearning for a tomato soup - something hot and nourishing that I wouldn't have to bother chewing. Something that could just be immediately absorbed into my bloodstream! Fortunately the Roy Bridge local shop (advertising itself as 'the last shop for 28 miles') was still open and I was able to get some fodder, including the soup. Back at the bunkhouse I had a shower then heated the soup and had it with a bread roll and cheese. Lovely. Then I strolled along to the Stronlossit Inn again and had another 'vegetarian dish of the day'. It was exactly the same as the day before, of course, and should more accurately be called 'vegetarian dish of the week...' or possibly 'millennium'. Nice enough though and I washed it down with a couple of pints of 'Three Sisters'. | ||||||||||
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