Traigh Allt Chailgeag

Smoo Cave

Sandwood Bay Album

Kylesku Bridge

Kyle of Durness

 

The Kyle of Durness cuts into Sutherland, separating the Cape Wrath peninsula from the rest of the country for many miles. Travelling to Cape Wrath itself, and its' famous lighthouse, requires the avoidance of two obstacles the first of which is the use of the military bombing range around the Cape and the second is the crossing of the Kyle. A system of warnings prevents the tourists from venturing into military danger, while passenger ferry plies the Kyle in summer months. 

The ferry wasn't running when we were in the Kyle of Durness, so instead of crossing the water and heading out to the wild West Coast, we followed the edge of the Kyle towards Durness itself. It treated us to a wonderful 7 mile circular walk, which constantly changed as we worked around around it.

Sutherland is often portrayed as being basically a lochan-speckled peat bog, the monotony of which is only occasionally punctuated by a solitary peak. As such, my expectations of the scenery were rather low. I am happy to report however that they were massively exceeded; this country is stuningly beautiful and I am itching to back.

An Fharaid

Balnakeil

Ben Klibreck

Ben Klibreck looks like a fairly straightforward hill on paper. Indeed, the hillwalking books make it sounds so easy that they recommend doing it in a morning and continuing on to climb Ben Hope in the afternoon. In practice however, Ben Klibreck was very wet, slippery, boggy walk to an exceptionally difficult climb onto the ridge - a real slog. To be fair, once on the ridge Ben Klibreck is rather delightful, it is elegantly shaped, and its steep sides offer dramatic views out across the northlands. Having climbed Ben Klibreck in the last few days, the important lesson is that the hillwalking books are not always right, and should sometimes be ignored in their route advice!

While the usual route guides such the SMC Munros book or Cameron McNeish's The Munros do offer a choice of routes, the consensus seems to be to attack the side flank of main ridge above Loch nan Uan (the short straight eastward pointing arrow on the map below). I had begun my walk, at the little footbridge just north of the ruined cottage at Vagastie, the river being unfordable at the usual crossing point further down-river. Despite the thick morning mist, navigation was fairly straightforward as the expanse between the road and the hill is marked by a series of rather distinctive lochans which can be used as little way-points. The climb from Loch Bad an Loch up to the larger Loch nan Uan was wet, and boggy and required some awkward river crossings and I was looking forward to gaining enough height to get a sight of the higher loch. However, when I reached the shores of Loch nan Uan, the cloud lifted and I got a sight of the climb ahead, and it looked a bit grim! However, the aforementioned books have been trusty guides for many years and I pushed on. This was a mistake. The climb up from Loch nan Uan onto the ridge of Klibreck was horrendous. The very steep grassy bank might well have been a reasonable prospect in dry weather, but after heavy rain it was squelchy and unbelievably slippery. 

A better route up would have been to ascend the more gentle slopes of Carn Fheidh, as on the long curved arrow on the map. This would have avoided the grimly boggy crossing from Loch Bad an Loch to Loch nan Uan; would have avoided the dreadful ascent route; and provided an extended and rather pleasant ridge walk on a decent path! Indeed, I descended this way, and couldn't believe what a difference it made. Some walkers extend this route even further, adding the top Cnoc Sgriodain into a route starting at the intriguing Crask Inn. I say intriguing, as when we were in Tongue getting the car fixed, the local paper had a story about the Crask Inn having been incorporated into the Scottish Episcopal Church. The Inn offers hospitality, a well as services including Holy Communion; making it more like a monastery from the Middle Ages than either a pub or a church! I have to say, such an abolition of the divide between the sacred and the secular is rather appealing!

Despite the slog, and the bog. Ben Klibreck's upper reaches are thoroughly enjoyable. The A'Chioch  at the hill's North West 'corner' is particularly splendid. Sadly the top of the hill remained in cloud, and the march up the old broken trig-point on the summit and back was cold and view-less. Once out of the cloud, and with a decent route in mind, the walk out was quite pleasant. It's a good hill to have done, but perhaps not by the recommended route; at least not in wet weather.

Ben Hope

Despite the countless days I have spent walking in Scotland, the far North-West is an area which I have neglected, and until this week left largely unexplored. My only previous foray into this territory was a trip up the West Coast with my Dad, of which a trek out to Sandwood Bay was a long-remembered highlight. The opportunity to correct this omission arose last week, my sons were away skiing, and my wife, daughter and I seized a last minute bargain on a little cottage on the Kyle of Durness for a week of remoteness.

Ben Hope towers above this area, visible for miles around, rising above any of its rivals. Drivers enjoying the North Coast 500, often pull over as it looms into view over the lochs and peaty expanses of Sutherland. Big enough to be a really impressive walk, yet accessible enough to be a suitable family day out, made Ben Hope an ideal target for the one good day of weather promised for our week in the North.

A tiny, (and in places totally disintegrated), unclassified road strikes southwards from the A838 north coast road, at the hamlet of Hope. This leads alongside the River Hope, to the freshwater Loch Hope. This 'hopeful' theme is apparently derived from the Norse for 'bay', rather than the English for optimism; but both seemed apt as our painfully slow progress down the track brought a stunningly beautiful valley into view. The landowner has provided a parking area at the side of the road, and a crude wooden sign announces that this is Ben Hope, the car can be abandoned and the climb begun.

 

My wife was a good deal more enthusiastic than my daughter, about the steep ascent rising in front of us. There's no denying that Ben Hope presents unrelentingly steep sides to anyone vying for its summit. Thankfully though, a scratchy path comes and goes, guiding the walker through the lines of least resistance. My daughter was persuaded up the steep slopes through a combination of conversation, instruction and chocolate!

The ascent of the hill comes in two sections. The first is that of the steep valley sides, then of a climb up a narrowing ridge to an obvious summit, crowned with a trig-point in a circular cairn. The path is harder to follow on the upper section, but it is worth keeping an eye on it, as it helpfully zig-zags right around some more bouldery sections which might present some difficulties for any children.

The summit cairn is a circular wall/windbreak, behind which my daughter sheltered from the increasingly chilly blast. The top of Ben Hope stand defiantly in the winds which seem to torment this part of the country, whipping in uninterrupted from the wild Atlantic. A little top only a few yards North of the actual summit provide the best view though, and this is where we sat until the cold drove us back to the cairn. Here we found a nice bottle of Glenmorangie inside an ancient Glenfiddich tin, seemingly left for visitors. I wonder if someone had celebrated their final Munro here in style? Tempted though I was, the bottle is almost empty, and it felt wrong to consume the last nip without having a replacement bottle to place in the tin, so I didn't. If you are heading up that way though, please note that the bottle is nearly done and take a new one with you.

 

The descent of Ben Hope is possible in a couple of different ways, but we elected to retrace our steps, as the weather brightened, the wind dropped and the sun shone - a wonderful end to a great day. It would be disappointing if Scotland's most northerly Munro was an unremarkable one. Ben Hope is a worthy hill for its location on Munro's tables; steep, shapely, domineering, offering terrific views - but yet not too difficult to climb.