Colorado #2

 

Colorado #1

 

The Strathfarrar Quartet

There is really is something wonderful about the vast area of wild land that lies between Inverness and Kyle of Lochalsh. The roads, and railway lines don't take a direct route between these two places, but splay to the North and South - leaving a huge area with no East-West route, containing great lochs (Affric, Mullardoch and Monar) interspersed with ridges of mountains in chains, with complex Gaelic names. Years ago we relied on Sorley MacLean's contributions to The Munro Show, that terrific little TV show about hillwalking presented by the equally terrific little Muriel Gray - to pronounce and translate the hill names. Now we have walkhighlands, and the little arrow you can press to achieve the same result.

Glen Affric can be driven down a bit, Mullardoch is blocked by a vast dam, and Glen Strathfarrar is all within a private estate - who only let a few cars drive down every day. When we arrived at 8:30AM a small queue was already forming in the little carpark, as there is a strict limit of 25 cars/day allowed in. I asked the woman at the gate if there was anywhere I should park in the glen (ie to avoid getting in anyone's way) she bluntly replied, "If you don't know where you are going, don't come!" Interesting!

The glen is uttserly beautiful. I suppose I resented the gate and the rigmarol and not being able to make an early start and get up onto the ridges before the sun got really hot! Nevertheless, my wife and I found a lay-by just after Loch Beannacharan and took the path North into the hills. The path is wet and slimy, once the track ends, but it curves N/E and leads all the way to the summit of Sgurr na Ruaidhe (the Peak of redness). In escalating temperatures - and with heavy packs, this was a gruelling ascent! We were carrying too much kit for the weather - but after our misadventures on Lurg Mohr the previous day, we weren't taling any chances!

Once on the first peak, what opens out in front of the walker is a magnificent lofty walk over four wonderful peaks, four of which claim Munro status. On a clear day no real navigation is required, the hills in front of you look exactly as they ought to, on the OS map! Paths are not clear though, especially across boulder-fields where it would be easy to get lost in bad weather. We didn't face that obstacle however - but the threat of dehydration and sunburn! Sgurr Fuar-thuill, Sgurr a'Choire Ghlais, Carn nan Gobhar are a great walk, with the highest peak, Sgurr a'Choire Ghlais, being the finest of them.

The fact that the wretched gate closes at 8PM in June meant that we couldn't hang around on the tops for long but had to keep moving - a little frustrating on such a beautiful day! Beyond the final munro a good stalkers path leads off the ridge and all the way back to the glen floor and a very long wakl back along the tarmac road to the car.

At which point it occured to us that the wretched gat emight not have been so bad after all. Open access would have meant a stream of cars, picknickers, litter and noise. As it was, we had the place to ourselves. The day was a long, hot slog - but sitting with boots off, at the car, brewing up a good coffee on the Aeropress - was a grand feeling indeed!

Lurg Mhòr and Bidein a' Choire Sheasgaich, from Attadale via Bendronaig Lodge

As Munroing expeditions in Scotland go - this is one of the most awkward. Not because it contains any technical scrambles, unfordable rivers or somme-like bogs; but because it is just so far from the road. we did the traditional route, from Attadale where the entrance to the gardens contains a walkers car park, all the way to the lonely Bendronaig lodge. The rather brutal looking bulldozed track makes for speedy access to the hills too.

"Never leave your ruacksack at the bealach!" were words I wished that I had heeded on our first evening. After pitching our tents on a lovely grassy platform by the river we went for a quick blast round the two Munros in glorious weather. Heading east to the loch, then turning North up to the bealach between the two hills we dumped our packs at the bealach and took minimal gear to the top. Big mistake! Tired from lugging big packs all the way into the wild we were perhaps a little too keen to shed weight. We were caught first by hail, then by rain which lashed us constantly.

The rest of the walk back to the tents was a bit miserable. I got really cold, but thankfully my walking companions threw hot food and coffee down me and sent me to my sleeping bag!

The next morning we had a wonderful walk out in glorious weather - pleased to have gained these remotest of summits. But also thinking we might have learned a lesson about mountain safety. And my wife is right - I need a warmer sleeping bag.

Gairich

On the south side of Loch Quoich lies the wonderful mountain of Gairich. Last week we were on North side of the loch from where it looks irresistible - and so went back this weekend to have a crack it it!

There's plenty of parking around the Loch Quoich dam (spelt Loch Cuaich on many maps) and access to these hills from the dam itself, where a footpath leads over the great concrete wall. Once over the all, an obvious footpath leads southwards into the boggy margins of the loch. Every Muro I have left seems to have some obstacle of difficulty, and horrible reports of people wading through, or sinking into soggy peat hags has been the reason that I have never done this hill! In practice however, though it was very damp in places - at no opint was it impassible or even that difficult. Progress over the soggy-miles was slower than on the engineered paths through the Cairngorms, for example.

Although the path is soggy in places there is a least a path, which a forest where several paths meet - and from which one takes to the long East Ridge of Gairich. It clims steadily over several miles, with the steep cliffs of the summit looking ominously as they range into view ahead. As these cmoe closer it is hard to picture which way to go up, however when you get the foot of the final pull up, it becomes obvious. A path goes straight ahead, which zig-zags up the face, before turning in to a series of exposed terracesm and then a couple of srambles onto a surprisngly broad summit, from which the views are exhilirating. Knoydart, Dessary, South Glenshiel, and more!

The ascent took 2 and a half hours. The route back is the same as the way up but took slightly longer as it was wet and slippy in places. It's a wonderful drive in and out of the Glen too!

Sgùrr a' Mhaoraich

Sgùrr a' Mhaoraich is a wonderful, rocky mountain peak which towers over the waters of Loch Quoich in the western highlands. It is a hill which is perhaps underated because it sits in such a wonderful location, ringed by just as wonderful hills, some of which are more famous than it.

With Ben Nevis and hills around the Great Glen forming the backdrop to the S/E, and the magnificent Knoydart Sjyline outlined to the west beyond Sgurr na Ciche and Glen Dessary, Sgùrr a' Mhaoraich is situated amazingly and like all the hills around this area "one worth saving for a day wth a view".

Unusually neither my wife or I had any work, church or children comittments over the weekend and so legged it to the hills. It's a three hour drive up to the dam at Loch Quoich, but a great one on which the scenery seems to get more impressive in stages as the drive evolves, Drumochter, Loch Laggan, Loch Lochy, Loch Quoich. The view of the western mountains from beyond the Quoich Dam is stunning! 

Sgùrr a' Mhaoraich is accessed from a path which leaves the roadside a Km or so beyond the dam. It's easy to miss the starting opint which is marked by a metal post  but the path goes high onto the ridge and is worth finding. Google streetview is a great bonus in this regard, some frustrating attempts to find the right start point in hillwalks early in my hillkwalking days have largely been eliminated by a quick look online, so that I know exactly what I'm looking for when I arrive.

There are a few parking spots near the start of the path, but I expect that on a summer bank holiday these could fill up quickly. We managed to wedge in to the last available one, and take to the hill. The path ascends quickly, zig-zagging its way under some pylons and up the Bac nan Canaichean ridge to the summit of Sgurr Coire nan Eiricheallach. 

From Sgurr Coire nan Eiricheallach the true magnificence of Sgùrr a' Mhaoraich can be seen, as a gnarly rocky ridge leads along and up to it's fine summit. Traces of a mad dry-stone dyke follow some of the ridge, presumably built by the workers of some landowner trynig to keep sheep from wandering onto another estate. The ridge has some opportunities for scrambling, but also a by-passpath which misses all the obstacles. The hardest part of the wlk is the final pull upto the summit, either up the steep bouldery and grassy banks to the south of the ridge, or up a narrow ledge to the north.

The views are just awe-inspiring.

The walking books say that an awkward descent can be made southwards and the day into a circuit. However, despite it being mid-May temperatures were dropping fast when we summitted, and rain looked imminent - so we returned by way of Sgurr Coire nan Eiricheallach, a fast descent back down the track. The track is not a perfect navigationa guide by the way - it does peter out a few times, and so the walker should keep their wits about them and not just blindly plod on!

The views on the way doen the track, especially of Ben Nevis and Gairich were wonderful. The walkhighlands entry suggests 5-7 hours, (presumably for the circuit), but we did the direct there and back in 4 comfortably. 

I haven't been in the high hills with my wife for quite a while - so this was an especially good day out. Our daughter spent the day deep in revision for her Highers, and our son came back from Dundee that evening, having completed his degree work. Talsiker by the fire on a cold evening seemed a fitting way to end the day!

Carn Ealar & An Sgarsoch

These two bleak windswept, and rather remote Munros, lie to the South of the main Cairngorm mountain range, and are accessed from the Linn of Dee car park beyond Braemar. Parking is now £3/day there, and it's worth havnig change as the card facility wasn't working very well today.Somehow, despite countless days of walking in the Cairngorms National Park I have never been up these two before - almost certainly because of a little anxiety on my part about wading the Geldie Burn. While my wife walked across it last Summer and said it was no more than a trickle, there are plenty of reports of it becoming an impassable torrent, and the remains of the the washed-away bridge seem to confirm it's reputation!

The mountain-bikeable track west from Linn of Dee leaves the roadside by the lovely old stone bridge above the falls. It's the track I last cycled when heading in to climb Beinn Bhrotain and Monadh Mhor, although this time instead of continuing west at the White Bridge, I followed the track southwards, and only turned west once the Geldie Burn was reached. Progress was wretchedly slow as a persistently strong headwind impeded progress, happily the morning rain which had been forecast didn't offer much more than the feintest of drizzle.

The Linn of Dee carpark was incredibly busy - but most people must have been taking the Lairig Ghru track northwards, as the more southern tracks were very quiet. There were quite a few mountain bikes at Geldie Lodge, including E-bikes, (cheating!!) which I hadn't seen in the hills before.

Once the river was successfully forded, I dumped the bike in the ruins of the lodge and followed the track westwards. It climbs gently before dropping down to a boggy river where it ends. I picked my way towards the summit through the peat hags and stumbled upon a path again about half way up. Carl Ealar's summit is flat, bald and was incredibly windy!

An obvious line of descent and a feitn track indicate a sensible line of attack on the long slog up An Sgarsoch's western flanks. Again, paths appear and vanish, and when the summit plateau is reached, it is crowned by a momumental cairn!

There are several ways off the hill. I went North, then west, skirting the minor top of Sgarsoch Beag, before instersecting the approach path and returning to the bike at Geldie Lodge. If the headwind in the mornign had been tough - it turned into a very helpful wind-assisted exit from the hills in the afternoon; back along the buldozed track to Linn of Dee via the White Bridge.

It was great to explore some new areas today - but they are not the most exciting hills. The best thing about them was not seeing anyone much past Geldie Lodge, and having two Munros all to myself, with a real feeling of  remoteness and isolation. Despite the 26miles of walking and cycling, I managed to get home by 5:30 - not a bad day out!

Return to Stob Coire Easain and Stob a'Choire Mheadhoin

 "Munro-Baggers" reputedly climb hills regardless of their merit, gain the desired "tick" in the book, never to return. It's a lie, I tell you! Although I have only 13 Munros yet unclimbed, this week I returned to these two favourites - for the third time. One of my friends is on the countdown to her last Munros and wanted to do these ones, as did my daughter - and it was  great day out. Every ascent of a good mountain is a good day... and every time I've  climbed these has been different. On the first occasion, on my own, a temperature inversion gave way to a beautiful day; The second ascent, with Stewart was  on the 2nd of January when every rock was glazed with ice. Thsi week, the first dustings of snow lay on the ridges bathed in autumnal sunshine,

With some inevitable conversation about WWII, Fersit and Rudolph Hess (he was held there for much of the war) we left rhe car park early, went past the dam and up the path which zig-zags back past the sheep shank, and onto the ridge near the Hydro-pillar (No idea what a hydro-pillar is - but it looks a bit like an oversized trig point!).

The ridge walk from there is straightforward - and utterly splendid with views to die for in every direction - but especially of The Grey Corries, the Aionachs, Ben Nevis, The Mamores and Glen Coe. Schiehallion was impressive back in Perthshire too.

The top of Stob a' Choire Mheadhoin is lovely, but the best bit is the stuning ridge and ascent onto Stob Coire Easain - which is a terrific piece of sweeping mountain sculpture to a fine summit with grand views. The returnm via the first hill is no dissaopintment, either (My sixth time on this one!), because the airy top is a windblown highland gallery - and had it been warmer (and we not had a friend's 60th birthday party to get to in Perth!) I could have basked in that view for a while longer.

Will I do these hills for a 4th time? I hope so - espcially as my wife wants to do them. I'd more than happily go up again!

Going Back to Church After Lockdown

Last week I did something I have not done in what seems like years. I used to do it regularly, and it felt as natural as a habit that was easier to keep than to break. This time however it was a calculated decision, one I took with slight trepidation and which felt strange and at first a little awkward: - I went to church.

Re-emerging from lockdown has been both liberating and unnerving! I hadn’t realised the extent to which I had been accustomed to social isolation and how hard I would find meeting and chatting to new people. I struggled with singing and realised how much I’d become merely a passive observer of ‘online worship’. Being together with others to worship God was good however – Christianity has always had a deeply communal spirituality and is never a solo-pursuit. During lockdown there are members of that community who have had children, lost loved-ones, married or separated – moved houses or jobs. ‘Being with’, rather than just ‘hearing from’ these folks was significant.

Full normality has not yet returned however. The place reeked of hand-sanitiser; and social distancing imposed unnatural barriers between people who would naturally shake hands, or embrace after a long-time apart.

Then of course, everyone was still required to wear masks. Mask wearing can prevent the spread of potentially infectious droplets; and also ruins a community’s ability to sing together! And mask wearing has been a highly contentious matter in the re-opening of society. That is not least because the inconsistencies in the rules have been glaring and bizarre. Why do a socially-distanced congregation have to mask, but then the nightclub over the road can pack people in for no-distanced, unmasked dancing and mixing? Or more glaring perhaps, why do a wedding party have to cover their faces for the service and then head off to the reception for unmasked ceilidh-dancing? What can explain such double-standards?

Some Christians have claimed that this is evidence of state hostility to Christianity. Others suggest that the government wrongly assume that while clubs and restaurants are full of the young and healthy; churches only contain the aged and infirm – a stereotype which is as inaccurate as it is unhelpful. My suspicion is that concessions have been granted to the entertainment and hospitality sector (which have not been extended to the churches), for the more simple reason that jobs and tax-receipts rely on allowing these places to provide the best possible experience for their guests.

If that is the reasoning behind the policy, I find it troubling, for Jesus famously said, “You shall not live by bread alone” – and pointed people to live not just materially but spiritually complete lives. That is, he called people to live in the deep connection to God which he came to give us; and in deep community with one another. Such things are of infinitive value but are unquantifiable, and more awkwardly: untaxable. That does not mean that they should be treated with less respect, or unvalued however. Jesus affirmed that while we need our ‘daily bread’ because our physical needs are legitimate; we also need ‘every word that comes from the mouth of God’. (Matthew 4:4). That’s why next week, I’m going back to church again – to hear the word of God preached, to sing and to share community with others. It’s not necessarily the easiest choice but I believe it is the wisest. Our governments might treat this with some contempt, but I suggest that it is in expressed love for God and neighbour that something of infinite value is found.

The doors of Christian communities across Scotland will be open this Sunday, it might be worth a look in – even if it’s been a while.

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This article first appeared in The Scotsman, 2/9/21

Take One Day At A Time And Use It Well

Suffering and affliction gatecrash our lives when we least expect it. Pain is the unwelcome guest which forcibly intrudes into our homes and ­families. Torment is no respecter of class, race, religious or political affiliation, age or nationality. Rather it is our vulnerability as humans which unites us, as we stare into the unsettling truth of our own mortality.

It is in this context that many ­people turn to those of us in the Christian churches, to ask the bigger questions of life and existence. The responses that Christians offer vary, but I offer five things that I have learnt personally from suffering.

The first is to separate the ‘why’ and the ‘how’ questions. In his book, Walking With God Through Pain and Suffering, which Timothy ­Keller wrote while being treated for cancer, he firstly explores the ‘why?’ questions, but counsels his readers to turn straight to section two, the ‘how can I cope?’ section, if they are in the ­middle of raw grief.

There is a time for philosophy and theology, but also a time for pausing that conversation until we are able to breathe more slowly and reason more carefully.

After the death of a young friend, I found that even good theological answers to the ‘why?’ questions were no emotional anaesthetic. ­With ­intellectual resources such as part one of Keller’s book, or helpful books such as C.S. Lewis’s The Problem of Pain, those could come in time.

Second, it has often been observed that there is one thing worse than ­suffering – and that is suffering alone. This week, as our church has been saddened by the tragic loss of a young life, we have gathered together to weep, to pray and to welcome ­anyone who wants company.

Some have come full of faith, ­others have come with none, all have been welcomed. This is what we are required to do, “bear one another’s burdens” as biblical ­wisdom instructs. Like many ­churches and communities around the country, we are learning that tears are OK, silence is OK, and that fellowship is essential.

Third, our approach to these trials draws on the wisdom of Jesus who said, “do not worry about tomorrow, for each day has enough trouble of its own” – in other words, take one day at a time. For each day we spend processing grief or pain, we need to set our sights on making it through that day. No one can bear the weight of a ­lifetime of lost dreams and hopes; getting through the day at hand is enough, and together, with God’s help we will.

This also in turn can free us to ask, “how best can I use this one day?” For many people that has meant doing something to ease someone’s pain, or to do something truly worthwhile in the memory of someone we have lost. We do not have infinite days to live – but one day at a time, we might use them well.

Fourth, the uniquely Christian hope we offer is of resurrection. We believe that the reason that we grieve so much in loss is because a human being is much more than a mere ­functioning collection of ­molecules but is an infinitely precious bearer of God’s image – body, soul, mind, consciousness. Death then, cannot be reduced to a physical process, any more than Elgar’s Cello Concerto can be regarded as merely a series of vibrations.

This observation is embedded in the central Christian truth, that Jesus rose from the dead and that all who hope in him will ­similarly rise – thus our final great hope is not limited to life here, but in Christ our eternal ­destiny is glorious. In Christ there is hope – and with hope we can get through this day.

The final observation comes from a prayer of the Apostle Paul: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any ­trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” He’s talking about the spiritual experience that is more than the post-dated future hope of resurrection but is encountered here and now. It is to this end we pray, and seek to learn to calm our troubled souls by resting in Jesus.

These things combined are how we will get through this together, our day of grief and suffering, along with a welcome to anyone who wants to join the embrace.

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This article first appeared in The Scotsman, 16/10/19

Conival and Ben More Assynt

The last time I was in these hills, the almost hurricane-force winds prevented us from ascending to high-level which would have risked being plucked from the ridges which tower over the glistening landscape of watery Assynt. My wife has been suffering from Covid, and although she is over the virus, has been left with an extreme fatugue which is only now beginning to lift. And then some happy things co-incided, she recovered enough to go and see friends, I had a day off - and the weather in the North looked increasingly promising. So after work on the Wednesday, I hurled a load of kit into the car and pointed it's nose to the North and struck out in search of Assynt and limestone!

Pausing only to queue for fish and chips by the ferry-port in Ullapool, I found a forestry track on which to park, and grabbed a few hours sleep. By 6:30, the coffee was brewing and breakfast was cooking, and by 7:00 I was at the car park at Inchnadamph. I've been past here a few times, and spotted the car-park, and looked longingly up Gleann Dubh down which the Traligill River rushes frim the distant hills. This time however, I wasn't passing on the way to Lochinver, or family holiday cottages on the North Coast, but stopping, and booting up - as these hills were beckoning.

The 'no- overnight parking' sign here is clearly ignored as several cars and vans had obviously been there for a day or two - and one occupant wandered out for a chat as I arrived. The forecast had changed and was suggesting a cloudy morning and a wonderful afternoon, and several people were delaying their ascent. While contemplating this, the midgies descended in demonic black clouds, and so I set off. I'd rather walk in fog, than with flaming skin!

The path begins just north of the main road bridge over the Traligill River as it pours into Loch Assynt. and heads eastwards past a the hostel and a remote cottage called Glen Bain. The hostel is for sale, and if you want a beautiful location to run a guest house on the NC500, I couldn't imagine a more beautiful location.

After the cottage the track becomes a sometime boggy path which drives up the left hand side of the river and forks after a small forestry plamtation. The right hand track crosses the river and heads for the Traligill caves, but hillwalkers take the left hand side of the river. Higher up the glen the path takes an abrupt left hand turn and ascends steeply up the southeast flank of the mountain reaching the bealach between Beinn an Fhurainn and Conival near a lochan.

On this climb up met up with a party of four people, two paramedics and two police-officers (and one minute dog) who were very friendly and with whom I walked for the rest of the day. One of the great joys of walking alone in Scotland is meeting other people in the hills. There is, more often than not, a delightful cameraderie amongst hill folk, and the immediate swapping of stories, routes and places to stay. It happens a bit less when you walk in groups, but walking alone, seems to very often not remains that way!

Once on the ridge, to my surprise the path continued southwards, winding through the increasingly rocky landscape towards the top of Conival. Cloud still lingered here, but that didn't disturb us as the weather was forecast to improve, and we woudl have to re-climb Conival on the way back from Ben More Assynt anyway, so a view was promised not lost!

The east ridge of Conival which leads across to Ben More Assynt, is rocky, and in places slow going - but surprisingly holds a path which leads all the way to the summit - the second Munro of the day. As promised the cliud was showing signs of lifting, and when I awoke from customary summit-doze, the sun was breaking through. We were then blessed with stunning views as we re-ascended Conival and picked our way back to the hamlet of Inchnadamph.

All that was left then was some farewells to my new friends, and the long drive South. What a day!