The reason that we ended up striding out into the Coulin Forest, from the infamous Gerry's Hostel, this week was simple. Looking at a map of Scotland I noticed a vast swathe of countryside into which I had never ventured, despite the number of days I have spent traversing the paths, wading the bogs, scrambling the rocks and walking the hills of this fine country.
These hills are accessed from Craig, where a level crossing breaches the railway line and gives access to a forestry track which curves its way deep into the mountains. Several miles into the walk, and after a river crossing over Scotland's most precarious wire bridge (optional when the river is low - compulsory when it's in spate), a footpath forks off from the track and winds its way up to the Bealach Bhearnais. This bealach is the meeting-point of several fine glens, and a route to a whole cluster of mountains, and a place for ultra-keen Munro-baggers to pitch their tents as a staging post to legendarily remote peaks such as Lurg Mhor. Being only moderately keen baggers, we were not there with tents contemplating 'completing' the whole region in a weekend, but were happy instead to climb the long eastern ridge of Sgurr Choinnich to its lofty viewpoint, before crossing the delightful ridge linking it to Sgurr a Chaorachain. Sadly time prevented us from progressing out to the hills' fine south easterly top to enjoy its wide views - but forced us to turn Northwards and back to the path homeward. We turned westwards too early, and endured a grim descent towards the path, had we persisted northwards for longer we would have been spared some underfoot unpleasantness.
The walk back to Craig through the forest is long and gruelling after such a fine day spent on high tops and airy ridges, the little white house at the level crossing rises into view from several miles away... but never seems to get any closer, even as the feet get sorer! This would be a good track up which to push a mountain bike at the start of a day just to enjoy a long and speedy downhill freewheel at its conclusion.
Back at the hostel, having lost our heavy boots and gained a hot shower we reflected on this new range of hills we had tasted. We were all impressed with their size, graceful ridges, remoteness and huge views and began to make plans to return with bikes to try our hand at reaching some of the areas more remote peaks.
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