Date walked: 7th June 2016

Distance: about 10 miles including the trip to the pub

Map used: OS Explorer 413 – Knoydart, Loch Hourn and Loch Duich

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I didn’t have a great nights sleep.  I never do when camping – there’s just so many factors that make sleeping well unlikely. But an invasion of midgies was not, I am pleased to say, one of them. My tent had kept them out. I did not even risk a middle of the night attack, using instead my pee bottle that usually lives in the glove compartment of my car for when I am stranded in a 20 mile tail back. You laugh, but wait ’til it happens to you and you have to pee in public or wet your car seat. I woke before 6 and braved the outside not long after.  Which was clearly midgie breakfast time; I found myself in a cloud of the buggers as I somewhat frantically broke camp (after taking this quick snap for the record).

That’s the Brocket Monument, in case you didn’t read my last post

No leisurely cup of tea or instant porridge for me – my breakfast was a banana. My plan was to follow the path I was on to near the Munroe called Meall Buidhe and then climb up its flank and go on as far as I could from there in the direction of another Munroe, Luine Bheinn.  I had no difficulty with my route- the wide track was unmistakeable.

Nice path

A  decent wooden bridge with rather snazzy sides, crosses the River Inverie.

The boulder-strewn river might have made for a refreshing ablution but I could not see a safe way down so I continued in my unwashed and no doubt slightly smelly state.

For a short section , the path was flanked by an avenue of Alders.

These led to the quite substantial but empty Druim Bothy. The door was locked and carried a notice about how to go about using it – though with no mobile signal one would need to book such a stay in advance.

Have a look at the link if you fancy staying there

This was easy walking and the track began to climb gently in the narrow Gleann Meadail valley.

Below me to the left was the burbling stream of Aalt Gleann Medail – it’s always pleasant to have a walk accompanied by the sound of moving water (although rain is less welcome).

A wooden bridge crossed this brook at the narrowest part of the valley, the path’s gradient now beginning to pick up a little.

The hillside shed numerous little brooks that crossed the path to join the main stream and from one of these I stopped and filled my water-bag; with no sheep or livestock of any kind in sight I reckoned it was safe to do so without treating the crystal clear liquid with sterilising tablets.

Rough grass and fern were the main vegetation but there were also many patches of Cotton Grass bobbing around in the breeze.

This is pretty stuff and I saw a lot of it from the train on my way up to Mallaig. For once I managed to get a reasonable close up.

Eriophorum angustifolium for the botany interested

The day was quite overcast – which suited me fine – I was anticipating some strenuous climbing presently and this would be so much harder if it had been sunnier. Ahead, the higher parts of the hills were a little misty.

From time to time the path crossed the smooth surface of massive boulders, their contorted  strata  revealing the extraordinary way in which the land has been twisted and turned many millions of years ago.

Almost impossible to believe that the ground could be so distorted

Looking back I had a fine view of Loch Nevis, now about 1000 feet below me.

I saw also the very slow moving figure of another solitary walker; my pack was slowing my usual pace somewhat so I thought it possible they may catch me up. And on one of my increasingly frequent rests a wizened man did appear and stopped with me for a chat. This gentleman must have been at least 10 years my senior. He had climbed all the Munros on Knoydart in the past and on this trip was tackling the Corbetts (those Scottish peaks above 2,500 feet). He was Scottish himself and his accent so broad I found him difficult to understand. I did get that he needed not to sit too long as his knee replacement had a tendency to seize up if over-rested.  I asked about my route; I didn’t understand much of what he said but the word “fierce” came up a few times in his description.  At around 1.500 feet I took another rest and began to scan the mountainside for my route up to Meall Buidhe. Nothing obvious presented itself and yet my GPS was quite clear that it would be around here that my serious climbing needed to begin. As I sat, a couple in their 20’s appeared, carrying next to nothing on their backs and nothing unnecessary in their physiques. They, too, were seeking the route up to the Munro and were equally unsure of the way. Undaunted, after a brief chat they started climbing. If you look very hard you can see them at the vey bottom of this picture.

I want to point out that this photo gives a totally misleading sense of just how steep this hillside was. It was much, much steeper than it appears and this couple’s progress was very slow. After making a few hundred feet the guy shouted back that “I wouldn’t go this way”. This was not encouraging as even if theirs was the wrong way I could still not see the right way.  Rested and daunted, I began to pick my own way.  Half an hour of scrambling later had gained me just a hundred or two feet and had all but tired me out. There was at least another 1,000 feet above me and I had to face the fact that I wasn’t up to it. This was not easy. I hate back-tracking and it was hard to face up to my physical inadequacy but at the same time I really, really didn’t want to get three quarters of the way up and find that I couldn’t manage the last quarter. Pitching a tent was not going to be an option at that point.  So I began my retreat.

Half way down the path I stopped for a while and unpacked the tent. It was still wet from the morning dew and as I shook it in the breeze I formulated plan B. I would return to near where I started the day, make camp and walk back into the village for a pint. In my experience the prospect of a pint and something cooked to eat does wonders for my mood. I was also uncomfortable that I had been unable to phone Anne to let her know that I was OK, so at the pub I could at least email her.  And tomorrow I would leave the tent and try another Munro ascent, but this time just carrying my back pack, emergency essentials and food and water. Yes, that was a good plan.

So this is where I stopped – just a few hundred yards  from where I camped last night but now on a nice flat spot.

And by six o clock I was back at the village.

The pub was fully booked for food but with a little persuasion they agreed to stick me on a little table near the door and true to form I felt quite a happy bunny at this point. By 9pm I was back at the tent. The midgies were bothering someone else so I even had time to brew up a cup of coffee and enjoy some chocolate and a sit before turning in. Overall, it had not been a bad day.

Pretty cool having a seat, eh!