Monday 29 November 2010

The Glen Falloch Group

Here follows the report on my third walk in Scotland during my holiday of 2005. 

Thursday 21st July 2005 

I had a much better walk on this day than on Ben More the day before. I had clearer weather, a weaker wind and a rising cloud level, but it was still a very long and challenging day. I walked south of Crianlarich down the A82 for just over a mile to a car park on the edge of the Crianlarich forest and headed up a track beside the River Falloch. I was supposed to be following Ralph Storer's route number five (from his book, "100 Best Routes on Scottish Mountains") up Srón Gharbh but the good track at the bottom of the valley seemed far more appealing to me than the steep, pathless climb up the hill, so I decided to stay beside the river. But, of course, the track soon came to an end and was replaced by a boggy and indistinct path that ran up into Coire Earb, at the head of the valley. Soldiering on I made my way to the end of the valley and began to climb a ridge up to the eastern peak of Beinn a' Chroin. At one point I had a bit of difficulty, not with the terrain, but with me: I was exhausted and totally worn out. I don't know if I'd not been eating enough but I felt a pain in my stomach and an inability to go any further. I rested for a while and had something to eat before trying to continue climbing up the hill. 

Gradually the pain and weariness left me and I reached the summit of Beinn a' Chroin, which has many tops and the eastern one that I had first reached was, according to Ralph Storer's book, the true summit. He would have had me walk all the way up to Beinn a' Chroin from Bealach Buidhe and then all the way back along the whole ridge and down to the bealach. My route, although very muddy, removed this necessity and let me do the whole ridge in one go. A point should be made about the various tops on Beinn a' Chroin: although most sources that I had looked at before doing this walk gave the eastern peak as being the highest, the Harvey Map that I was using marked the middle peak of five as being the highest. When I looked this up after the walk I discovered that Harvey was right, the eastern peak has been demoted and the new summit is indeed the one on the western ridge (at 388 186). There has been a re-survey of the tops which moved the actual summit away from its previous location, but as far as I could tell the actual Munro on Beinn a' Chroin does not have a cairn, despite the fact that all the others do! (However reports suggest that it does have a cairn, so maybe I was mistaken there.)

I walked over each of the peaks just to make sure that I'd bagged the lot then began my descent to Bealach Buidhe weaving around the crags and crisscrossing down the steep rocky slope. After crossing the grassy col I made my ascent of An Caisteal up a fun and interesting path up the steep rocky ridge. Unfortunately I was now well into the clouds that still lingered at the top of this almost one thousand metre mountain. I walked past the summit cairn(s) along the rocky ridge, to beyond the cairn at the northern top at the actual castle-like part of the ridge that gives the Munro its name, before returning back along the ridge. After passing the summit, and before descending very far back down to Bealach Buidhe, I veered off to the right down steep grassy slopes to the bealach with Beinn Chabhair. The ascent of this third Munro of the day required a little thought as there is no path and I had to pick my own way through the complex terrain of the eastern slopes. Eventually, and with more than a little relief, I reached the top and bagged my third Munro of the day, my seventh in three days.

[The Glen Falloch Group seen from the neighbouring mountain of Cruach Ardrain]

From the summit I headed north veering west along a clear path on the narrow summit ridge that was a joy to travel along. Call me lazy but I do like a good path to walk along; if there is no path to follow I have to think about picking out a route instead of just enjoying the walk and the views. I always enjoy walking a path that weaves around complex, rocky terrain and the top of Beinn Chabhair contains just such a path, as does the southern approach to An Caisteal. The path I was following descended to reveal an astonishingly complex terrain that reminded me of the early part of my walk the day before. Thankfully this time I was descending instead of ascending so I was able to zoom over the grassy knolls, now well into my second wind. I followed a faint path around the northern slopes of Meall nan Tarmachan and crossed Garbh Bhealach veering to the south of Stob Creag an Fhithach to head for Lochain a'Caisteal. This is a picturesque mountain lake where a high cliff overlooking the lake and affords stunning views along Glen Falloch below.

After passing around the lake I began to descend the steep hillside making my own way down the hill through the long grass. Coming down off that hill was actually quite fun, as I started off in the hills and just walked straight down to the bottom of the valley; from one world to another. At the bottom of Glen Falloch is the West Highland Way, which provided me with an easy route back to Crianlarich. This proved to be rather nostalgic for me as I was reliving my walk of the year before along the West Highland Way, but now in much better weather. The year before it was wet, but by the time I was walking along the trail now it was early evening and the weather had cleared to provide me with a wonderfully sunny and warm end to the day, so it was under a hot, evening sun that I returned to the youth hostel at 7.15 pm after another long, tiring day, but after a much more enjoyable one than the day before.

Thursday 25 November 2010

Ben More and Stob Binnein

More from my holiday of 2005 in Scotland:

Wednesday 20th July 2005 

This was a gruelling walk and a real test of my powers of endurance with a start to finish time of ten hours over some very demanding terrain, but also with prolonged sections of road walking. I was following Ralph Storer's route number seven from his "100 Best Routes on Scottish Mountains", which starts from a car park on the A85 five miles from Crianlarich, so first thing in the morning I was walking along a busy A road for five miles to the Coire Chaorach car park. This was often scary, especially on the narrower bends, so it was with considerable relief that I finally reached a service road just before the car park where I headed off up the track into a forest. I had forgotten to read Storer's book before doing this walk and hadn't even taken it with me that day, so as I made my way through the forest I was relying solely on my map. Instead of staying on the western side of the burn I tried to cross the river and promptly got my feet wet, but that was just the beginning. I then tried to follow a route through a clearing beside the river that was very muddy and rough under foot, and my reward for all this perseverance was to be confronted by a fence. With resignation I followed the fence steeply up the hillside, sometimes using the fence itself to help me over the boggy sections until eventually I reached the corner of the forest and I still had a fence in my way, but one quick climb and I was onto the hills. Now my problems really started. 

Once onto the top of the wide ridge I started making my way around the corrie passing over Caisteal Corrach and heading towards Leacann Riabhach, but due to strong winds and a complex terrain my progress was frustratingly slow and very tiring. The hills ahead of me always looked a long way off and I never seemed to get any closer to them, but eventually I arrived on Stob Creagach and, after crossing Bealach na Frithe, I climbed up to Meall na Dige. By now I was well into the clouds and the bright, sunny morning was a distant memory as I headed across a wind-swept col towards Stob Coire an Lochain. I very quickly lost the main path and started to follow a track, in desperation, that took me round the side of the hill without gaining any height. When I realised my mistake I started to climb straight up the steep south-eastern side of the hill; I have an abiding memory of clinging to the side of the cliff-like slope while furious winds battered around me. Slowly I crawled up the grassy, cliff face and onto the top, Stob Coire an Lochain, where I was hit by the strongest winds I have ever encountered on a mountain top; it was so strong I couldn't even stand up. Crouching to the floor I made my way along the clear path across the top of the ridge a short distance to the summit cairn where I collapsed behind it. 

After recovering from my exertions I made my way relatively easily along the path to the Munro, Stob Binnein, with the wind quickly dying down as I progressed. For most of my walk there had been little or no path to follow, but now I was blessed with a clear and easy path that finally meant this was becoming an enjoyable walk. After Stob Binnein I began the long descent to Bealach-eadar-dha Bheinn and then the equally long ascent to the top of Ben More, the highest hill in the area. Because of my slow progress during the day I didn't reach the top of Ben More until almost 5 pm from where I had a long, steep descent down grassy slopes back down to the road. Initially, a clear, zigzagging path took me down the hill but when the path petered out I had to find my own way until I came to a Land Rover track that leads to Benmore Farm and the three quarters of an hour road walking that took me all the way back to Crianlarich. This was a very exhausting and demanding day in very tough weather conditions, but I did manage to complete it. With the hindsight of a few more years experience of hillwalking I think I would have enjoyed this walk better if it had been done in the opposite direction. The good weather in the morning would have been experienced at the top of the Munros and, more importantly, the eastern side of the corrie would have been much more pleasurable as a long descent. Most people, however, access these mountains from the south, hence the good path over Stob Coire an Lochain.

Thursday 18 November 2010

Cruach Ardrain & Beinn Tulaichean

With no new walks available I thought I’d post my account of a wonderful holiday I had in Scotland, which was originally written in 2005. I am starting with a walk in the Crianlarich Hills where I experienced, perhaps for the first time, the glories of Highland walking with ferocious weather (probably the worst I’d experienced up to that point), difficulties in navigation, and some truly spectacular mountain locations.

Tuesday 19th July 2005 

I was in Scotland to do some walking in the Southern Highlands and apart from the West Highland Way, which I did last year, I had not really done any walking in Scotland before and I found it very different to walking elsewhere in the country. It's a lot bigger and a lot less crowded; I didn't see anyone all day, but that could have been because of the weather. I was in an indecisive mood about where to walk on this day; the bad weather was putting me off walking up a big mountain, so in the end I decided to head off into the hills directly behind the hostel that I was staying at thinking that they would be easier. I was staying at the Crianlarich Youth Hostel, which is next door to the railway station on the West Highland Line from Glasgow to Fort William. The location was very handy for me which was better than I would get later in the holiday. Crianlarich is a small community on the junction of the A85 and A82 trunk roads served by a small general store, which I used for all my culinary needs despite its slightly higher than town-centre superstore prices.

Right behind the youth hostel is a Community Woodland and I started the walk by climbing through that and into the forest beyond. I was following the instructions given by Ralph Storer in his book "100 Best Routes on Scottish Mountains", specifically route number six. Storer's instructions took me along forest roads until I came to an old path beside metal and wooden posts, which Storer describes as "execrable" and suggested that you avoid it as much as possible. I must have forgotten his advice because I walked up the whole boggy, water-logged length of it, even though Harvey maps mark this route as marshy ground. Therefore, it was with considerable relief that I eventually reached the tree line and climbed onto the open hillside to my first goal, which has the very un-Scottish sounding name of Grey Height. This was merely the start of the ridge around the head of a valley (or corrie as they say in Scotland), Coire Ardrain, so I continued the climb up the ridge to Meall Dhamh before beginning the ascent of the Munro, Cruach Ardrain (a Munro is a Scottish mountain above three thousand feet high). The path I was following didn't go straight up the mountain, but instead took me across the steep western slopes of the mountain and eventually deposited me at the southern end. 

This suited me fine as I headed away from Cruach Ardrain down the hill towards another smaller Munro called Beinn Tulaichean. As I approached the summit the weather threw everything it had at me: there was biting rain and extremely strong winds that made it difficult to walk. In desperation I sought some shelter against a rocky outcrop and despaired of the conditions, and anything else I could think of; eventually I poked my head up and gingerly made my way to the summit cairn, which turned out to be surprisingly close to where I had been sheltering. Returning to my shelter I had lunch while gazing upon the glorious views that were miraculously now revealed to me as the weather cleared in the lee of the hill affording me with tremendous views across to Loch Voil. Setting off again I headed back up to the top of Cruach Ardrain, once again battling against the winds that were trying to stop me as I crossed the col between the two Munros, this time to little effect. Climbing up Cruach Ardrain from the south, I followed a path to the south-westerly summit cairn and in the wind, rain and low cloud I could have easily thought that I was at the top of the Munro, but having been warned by Ralph Storer I descended the dip beyond and found a sharp rise that took me up to another summit cairn, this time the true summit of the Munro. 

The continuation of the walk was to descend steeply down the path beyond the summit to what Storer calls a bealach (the Scottish name for a col or saddle) and then up to Stob Garbh. At this point I lost the path and had to find my own way around the rock faces onto the top. My compass was heavily used at this point as I found my own way along the top of the ridge to the summit cairn. Stob Garbh apparently used to be a Munro but was subsequently demoted for having too small a re-ascent (or possibly due to its proximity to Cruach Ardrain) making my tally for the day just two Munros and a Munro top. Heading off in the right direction I discovered a path and continued along the ridge over Stob Coire Buidhe towards Crianlarich until my progress was halted by a fence that Storer makes no mention of even though it is marked on a map. Turning to my left I tried to find a stile over it, but I could find none so when I came to a t-junction of fences I decided that the only way I would be able to get down was to climb over the fence. Descending the steep grass slopes beyond I now had no path and no idea where the path I had been following had gone. When I approached the crag, Creag na h-Iolaine, I discovered a steep, bracken-covered slope that I could not easily get down and led me to start thinking that perhaps crossing the fence had not been such a good idea! With considerable difficulty I descended the steep slope through the bracken without knowing where I was putting my feet until eventually I reached the tree-line.

Ralph Storer's instructions hadn't said that the descent would be this difficult! He had said that there was a "clear" firebreak, but I could see none even when I made my way to where I thought the map indicated there was a firebreak, but none could be found. Instead I had to try and descend the hillside under the trees, weaving around the trunks, which was relatively clear beneath the dense conifers. By following a stream down I made my way to a forest road, and ironically a firebreak appeared on my left just before I reached the road. After an energetic hour spent trying to get past fence, cliff, bracken and trees I slowly made my way along the forest road back to where I had started and passing once more through the Community Woodland I returned to the youth hostel. All in all, this was a good, enjoyable walk, even if the weather was a little rough at times, but I had coped, which was another victory for me over bad weather. The problems at the end of the walk are best forgotten as being beyond my control, unless they are the norm for Scotland...

Thursday 11 November 2010

Pickering to Scarborough

Saturday 4th September 2010 

After my exhaustion following the previous day's walk I was not sure what I would do on the last day of my holiday, and in the end I don’t think I made the right decision. I considered going back along the Cleveland Way to visit Rievaulx Abbey, and I wish I had as I’m sure it’s a wonderful abbey to visit. I also considered catching a bus to Pickering and spending the day on the North Yorkshire Moors Railway, which I’m sure I would have really enjoyed, if I had done that. I even considered going all the way to Scarborough on the bus and spending the day in the seaside resort that had so depressed me when I arrived in the area at the beginning of the week. In the end I did the walk that I’d originally planned to do on this day, but that turned out to be over-ambitious. I was going to walk all the way into Scarborough, but first I caught a bus from the charming market town of Helmsley, where I had been staying, to the bustling town of Pickering. Instead of riding on the steam train I set off up the valley of Newton Dale and onto the upland plain, and boring farmland, of Blansby Park. After I had eventually crossed the fields I entered a delightful wood and descended steeply back down into the quiet, tranquil valley of Newton Dale. After crossing the railway line I climbed back out of the valley and crossed a road to enter Dalby Forest. Upon entering the wood I followed an endless succession of paths and forestry tracks that slowly took me across the large wood. At the other end I passed through Givendale Head Farm and joined the Tabular Hills Walk. This walk forms a link between Helmsley and Scarborough but at forty-eight miles it is far too long for a single day's walk, though as it turned out even my shortened version wasn't short enough. While having lunch between Dalby Forest and Wykeham Forest I realised that if I carried on as at this rate I wasn't going to reach Scarborough in time for the train. Therefore, near Cockmoor Hall, I abandoned my route and walked along the first road I got to all the way to the village of Snainton where I caught a bus to Scarborough. 

The weather may have been brilliant, but this was not a good walk and made this a disappointing end to a good week in the North York Moors. I enjoyed the walks earlier in the week beside the coast and across the moors, but since leaving the moors behind I found little of interest for me. I prefer walking in areas of wilderness where there is little obvious sign of human interference. Farmland depresses me just as much as a city centre while Dalby Forest was not much better. The woodland around Newton Dale was much more interesting as it’s not a wood managed purely for its timber. Ultimately I think I need to rethink my current obsession with long distance paths as I still really prefer to be at the top of a mountain instead walking along the valleys. The walk on this day was badly planned as I would never have been able to complete it in time, but the scenery along the southern edge of the North York Moors is, shall we say, not as interesting as other areas of the park. I had planned to do a circular walk around the park but ultimately that didn’t work out.

Thursday 4 November 2010

Osmotherly to Helmsley

Friday 3rd September 2010 

After my epic thirty mile walk of the day before, I thought twenty-two miles to Helmsley would be easy, but this turned out not to be the case. A combination of the heat, the dreariness of the surroundings, and the consequences of the previous day's hard walking had all taken their toll on me. By the time I reached Helmsley I was exhausted and unable to think clearly. Even though I did reach Helmsley I have no idea how I got there! The day started with a lot of mist and very poor views across the moors, but most of this cleared to reveal another warm, tiring day, though the distant views remained misty all day. To start the walk I climbed out of Osmotherly along the Cleveland Way and headed up onto the open moor where I joined the Hambleton Track, which is an old drovers' road (cattle way), that goes straight on for miles across the heather covered moors of the Hambleton Hills. I'd seen so much purple flowered heather during the previous couple of days that I was becoming so fed up with it that I was desperate for a change of scene. 

This eventually happened when I left the track and dropped down through a wood past High Paradise Farm. Beyond the Sneck Yate Road I climbed onto the edge of an escarpment that has precipitous drops down to a lush tree-filled environment. This is Boltby Scar while the wood below was Town’s Pasture Wood, and it was the highlight of the walk. As the path clung to the edge of the escarpment the surroundings felt wonderfully wild with an abundant variety of plants that were a far cry from the heather filled moors. I continued along the path under the hot sun in a wide arc at the top of a steep hillside above extensive woodland. On rounding a corner I passed the sparkly Gormire Lake, nestled in a woodland setting, and came upon Sutton Bank, where a main road, the A170, climbs up the steep hillside on its way to Helmsley. Crossing this busy road I stopped at a vantage point where the extensive views across the wide Vale of York were hazy in the hot sunshine. After lunch I set off along the edge of the escarpment around the perimeter of a gliding club. Around a corner of the escarpment I came upon a large white horse made out in stones on the side of the steep hillside. After looking at the white horse and the extensive views southwards I returned around the corner to a signpost that marks the continuation of the Cleveland Way. This was where things began to blur for me as the Cleveland Way leaves the edge of the escarpment and heads out across dreary farmland to the village of Cold Kirby. I do remember that I didn't like the farmland that I was walking through as I thought it was a little too much like that found in Leicestershire. According to the map I must have passed through the village of Cold Kirby and continued down into the valley of Nettle Dale. This valley left little impression on me as I walked along a wide track before joining a road. I do remember the long, dreary walk along that road and passing a particularly fine looking ruin of an abbey, which would have been Rievaulx Abbey, considered by many to be one of the most beautiful abbeys in England. I wish I’d visited it. 

With aching legs I eventually reached the small town of Helmsley where I collapsed into the youth hostel. This was not a great walk but at least it did have one or two memorable moments. The final stage of the walk contained all that I consider bad about long distance paths. For years I have shunned long distance paths and been content to just go up individual hills, but in the last couple of years I have taken an interest in stringing along a series of great walks across great countryside. Unfortunately some of this walk was just too tedious, and I was too tired to be interested. However, since this is actually usually the start rather than end (as in my case) of the Cleveland Way, maybe the gentle couple of miles to the escarpment are a deliberately easy start. Whatever the case, it wasn't to my taste.