Back in March of 23 I attempted a winter ascent of Sgurr Breac and A’Chailleach, two mountains at the eastern end of the Fannich mountains. Difficulty finding a safe route up steep crags and when I did the beginning of the ridge was a mass of peat hags all full of drifted snow, the going a slog and the weather ahead looking decidedly unfriendly. I regretfully decided today wasn’t the day and had to turn back.
Fast forward to late summer and I was back with avengeance, I figured that I could make it a longer trip and add in three more mountains, fool. This would make a total of five summits and on minor summit.
I arrived at the parking spot at 8.30 in the morning after a 31/2 hour drive, it was already warm and the beasties were gathering for breakfast, it was not a good omen for the day to come.
I pushed on, it got warmer and warmer, the path familiar, soon I was over the foot bridge and on the boggy bit looking up at the summer clothed crags, all snow gone and a route up looking quite easy now. I pressed on squelching as I went the sun getting hotter and hotter, no chance to stop as the wee critters were on me in a flash feasting.
Part way up there was a small shaded haven where I stopped for a breather and there was a small clear stream of clear sweet cool water, it was delicious. On I went traversing up the steep sided endless hill, the sun beating down glad I’d brought my sun hat.
I made it the to first bealach (saddle), dropped my gear and relieved of the weight headed for the first summit with just water and camera gear. I didn’t linger, I wanted to get back to my gear and set my first camp, it had already been a long day.
Camp 1
I was exhausted, the legs wondering what had hit them, I was now beginning to think that I had bitten off more than I could chew, another four summits?
First light on the first summit of the previous day.
Next morning I was determined to at least do the next summit, gear packed, legs stiff and I set off for the mighty Sgurr nan Clach Geala sitting at 1093m high, it was a slog but at least there was a breeze to help keep things cooler.
Sgurr nan Clach Geala
I took a deserved break on the summit and enjoyed the views towards Loch Fannich and around to the next summit, cooling in the somewhat stiffer breeze. Ready for the off I headed down a steep path to the next bealach where I would set up camp 2 before heading up summit number three, Sgurr nan Each.
An Teallach in the midday sun.
Camp 2
Camp 2 set, a spot of lunch and a wee siesta I figured I should set off again with just water and the camera gear, pretty much a swift up and back down; afternoon tea was calling.
Loch Fannich
After a good nights sleep it was time for a dreaded long decent followed by a stiff pull back up the first of the two hills Sgur Breac which I’d missed in March.
Having made it down it was nice to be out of the breeze for a short while though I didn’t linger as there was still a long haul ahead.
Looking towards Sgurr Breac and A’ Chailleach
I started up yet once more and soon found some more challenges, there were some parts of the path requiring a little scrambling, I wasn’t expecting this and it was no mean feat with all the camping gear on board. The higher I ascended the stiffer the breeze became, stronger than any other in my trip.
I was tempted to set up camp three on the flat summit but it was a little too breezy and there was still away to go. The thorn in the side being an ascent of Toman Coinnich a minor summit to be taken care of before dropping down and up again to the final summit of A’ Chailleach. It was a pull and a half but having made it to the other side I found a spot for camp 3 on the beallach between Toman Coinnich and A’Chailleach.
Camp 3, a windy one.
With protesting legs I made it up the final summit a little surprised that I’d made it around all the summits, I glanced over to Slioch, (The Spear) site of a previous adventure.
Slioch, scene of a past adventure.
It was a blowy night with a little rain but I slept well regardless and it was now time to walk out and back to my car. I made the mistake of taking what I thought would be a shortcut, hmm.
Looking back up to where I’d camped.
I descended steep pathless ankle twisting slopes only to be confronted by a 6ft deer fence, I looked up and down, no stile to go over. I would have to climb over and struggling, wire cutting into my hands the fence bendy I made it over. It was less steep but lots of undergrowth to bushwack through. It didn’t end there though for now I was faced with the other side of the enclosure and more fence to climb. I lightened my load as much as I could passing bits of equipment and the camera bag over to the other side, but I still had to go over with the heavy backpack on.
Some open moorland and I finally made it to the track I’d seen from on high, now under a beating sun and no breeze. I pressed on under the relentless heat and when in sight of the foot bridge I would need to cross, took a break. It was here that I realised I’d lost my beloved tatty old sunglasses, most likely at the first of the deer fences. I wasn’t sure and too exhausted to go back, they would be collateral damage.
I finally made it back to the car, changed clothing and drank warm fizzy water left in the car, what a trip, one that I had doubts I’d finish. 5 summits, 4 days, 3 nights 1 finished photographer. Unfinished business, FINISHED.
Well not quite, because I’d elected to take in the extra hills, there were now 4 more to do, the Western Fannichs…
Watch this space…