Contrasting Days In The Hills: Quinag & Sgurr Mor

Alex Roddie approaching Sgurr Mor in the Fannaichs

Some days hill weather is kind, some days it's cruel, many days it's a bit of both. On two days last week I had the first and the last. The first was on a walk on Quinag with Alex Roddie and Rob Finch, a trip that had been long in the planning. Last autumn Alex ran a charity fundraiser for the John Muir Trust, auctioning a copy of his new book Wanderlust Europe and a day out on the hill with him and me. Rob won the auction and said, appropriately, that he'd like a trip to a JMT property. Due to the pandemic and being rather spread out - Rob in Southampton, Alex in Lincolnshire, me in the Cairngorms - it took a while before we finally sorted out dates. It would be early September. And Quinag would be the hill.

Alex on Spidean Coinich, Quinag

Alex on Sgurr Mor, Fannaichs

 

 

 

 

 

 

We met at the excellent Forest Way Bunkhouse, where we stayed for two nights. The forecast was mixed but suggested an 80% chance of clear summits the afternoon of our first day after a cloudy morning with drizzle. We decided to go for Quinag. It might be worse the next day. The morning certainly brought cloud and rain. The afternoon didn't bring clear summits. The afternoon was just the morning continued.

Rob and Alex on Sail Gharbh, Quinag

Most of the day on Quinag we were in the cloud. Much of the time it rained. Much of the time it was windy. All of the time it was damp. The wettest day on the hills since sometime in April for me. And the coldest. I wore three layers and wished my base layer was thicker and had long sleeves. I hadn't worn that much clothing since April either. Preparation for the changing seasons, I thought.

Rob and Alex somewhere on Quinag

This was one of those days when I was glad of company. I suspect I'd have given up and gone down fairly soon if on my own. But with others the day was still enjoyable. Neither of them had been to Quinag before. Now they'd been up two of its three summits but not seen it. Something for them to look forward to! (You can see what Quinag looks like in this post).

Back at Forest Way we discovered that we'd picked the wrong hill. Another party staying there had been on An Teallach. It was cloudy but dry. On Seana Bhraigh Rob's friend Matt had views and no cloud or rain. He could see the big cloud sitting on Quinag.

Rob and Alex somewhere else on Quinag

Thankfully Forest Way has a good drying room or we'd have had a soggy start the next day. Not that we stayed dry for long, though the reasons were very different. Rob and Matt were going off to do hills further north. Alex and I headed east to the Fannaichs, an area I think very under-rated. The forecast suggested a hot day. The forecast was right. It was very humid too and calm. Sweating occurred. On Quinag we had seized every brief respite from the wind to pause and rest. Here we longed for a breeze. The few times one blew we stopped and relished it. My t-shirt, too thin the day before, now felt too thick. My feet, chilly on Quinag in mesh trail shoes and thin socks, now felt they were exploding out of those same shoes, swollen with the heat. Indeed, before we reached the main ridge my feet were aching so much I stopped and removed the insoles and my socks, much, I think, to Alex's surprise. It worked. My feet felt much better the rest of the day.

Alex in the Fannaichs

Whilst the summits were clear and there was sunshine at times the air was mostly hazy. It felt thick. Views faded into pale shadows. The sky was streaked and dappled with grey. And very bright, making for challenging photography. But at least photography took place. On Quinag quick grab shots with my smartphone were enough, my camera ending up in the pack. 

As we approached Sgurr Mor, the highest Fannaich, we had dramatic views of Sgurr nan Clach Geala, second highest but most impressive, with Alex admiring its huge gully-riven cliffs.

Sgurr nan Clach Geala

From Sgurr Mor we descended to a bealach past a small stone hut - duck when you enter - and then along an old stalkers path where the rocks had been cleared to either side to make a path that was, as Alex said, almost a holloway in places. We thought of the huge effort required to shift all those boulders, some of them really big. 

As the afternoon began to turn to evening the clouds thickened and the haze grew. Shaded layers of hills receded into the solid air. Bands of gossamer-like mist began to form, spreading out below the distinctive outline of An Teallach.

An Teallach

We needed headlamps for the last hour or so, again the first walking I've done with one since early spring. Despite the heat the day had felt autumnal. The grasses were turning red and yellow. The haze didn't feel like one of high summer. And there were only a few midges.

A Visit to Assynt with the John Muir Trust and an ascent of Cul Mor

Sail Gharbh, Quinag

Every September the trustees and staff of the John Muir Trust have a meeting close to one of the Trust’s estates so we can meet local staff and local people and see what’s happening on Trust land. There's also more time to talk to other trustees and staff members than at most meetings. This year the meeting was at Inchnadamph in Assynt next to the Quinag estate.

The weekend forecast was for mixed weather. There was some beautiful sunshine on Saturday morning – timed to coincide with our formal indoor meeting. Trying to ignore the sunshine and the wonderful view (I deliberately sat with my back to it to avoid distraction) we discussed many topics and made some potentially significant decisions. 

On the Quinag estate, Loch Cairnbawn in the distance

The meeting was positive but I think we were all relieved to get out into the now fading sunshine for a windy walk on the northern part of the Quinag estate above Loch Cairnbawn with Property Manager Don O’Driscoll. Here we looked at the slowly regenerating forest with too many of the tiny birches pushing through the heather heavily browsed by deer. From a small knoll we stared down to the loch where the white arrows of gannets flashed over the wind-driven waves and two kayakers struggled to make headway against the gale. To the south the huge prow of Sail Gharbh, one of Quinag’s three summits rose above a denser part of the Ardvar woodlands and I thought back to my splendid walk and camp on the mountain two years earlier. 

Hillside discussion

 

The following day dawned windy and cloudy. Determined to climb a hill while here I decided on Cul Mor as it doesn’t require a long walk-in and it didn’t look like a day I’d want to spend too many hours out. After an early lunch or perhaps more correctly second breakfast of a tasty cheese toastie and mug of coffee in The Elphin Tearooms I headed up the hill. The wind had dropped now, making for a sweaty ascent as the air was humid and warm. Soon I was in wet cloud, a familiar place this month, having experienced the same conditions in Coire na Ciste and on Braeriach, Beinn a’Chaorainn and Beinn Teallach. I don’t need this much navigation practice! 

A brief view on Cul Mor

In the hidden corries below the rocky slopes of the hill stags were bellowing and grunting. The land was brown and yellow and faded red. Autumn was here. From the descent I had one sight of the summit before the clouds closed in again.

My one view of Cul Mor

There was no real rain but the air was so wet I was drenched by the time I was back at the car. A drive to Ullapool, a quick change into dry clothing, and I was at The Ceilidh Place for a reviving meal. Then came the drive home and with it the rain, torrential rain with much surface water and spray. An unpleasant drive but as always I wondered why I didn’t visit the North-West more often. I’ll be back soon I promised myself.

Cul Beag from the start of the ascent of Cul Mor

Wild Camp and Hill Walk on Quinag

Sail Gharbh & a distant Spidean Coinich from Sail Ghorm

Following my retreat from the midges after my visit to Ben More Coigach (see this post) I drove to Quinag, another huge massif and one of the great mountains of the Northwest Highlands. Quinag is a steep Y-shaped mountain with three long rocky ridges, each with a summit that qualifies as a Corbett (Scottish hill between 2,500 and 3000 feet/762 and 914 metres with a drop of at least 500 feet/152.4 metres between it and the next hill). With a huge long rock wall to the west, two big corries on the east side, and many minor tops (some of them quite dramatic) Quinag is complex. The traverse of the summits is an exceptional hill walk for both the interesting and entertaining rocky terrain and the superb views of mountains, lochs and sea. Quinag is looked after by the John Muir Trust.

Looking South-east to Ben More Assynt & Loch Assynt

 

After stopping at the Elphin Tea Rooms for soup and a roll and coffee I started late up the path to Lochan Bealach Cornaidh, a gentle route that leads gradually through boggy terrain into the heart of Quinag. The lochan  lies in a wonderful situation between two of the Corbetts – Spidean Coinich and Sail Garbh, the highest summit – with spacious views east to another Corbett, Glas Bheinn. I pitched my shelter above the lochan but spent little time looking at the views due to the midges.

Sail Gorm & Sail Gharbh from Spidean Coinich

 

Dawn came with a pink sky and a welcome breeze – no midges! I spent the day on Quinag, climbing all three Corbetts. The light was sharp and visibility superb. This landscape is truly spectacular, a tremendous mix of rock and water, mountain and loch. Steep slopes and narrow rocky ridges make for interesting walking. The rough narrow paths thread complex ways through rock bands and round rock towers. Hand are useful in places, (especially if your legs are quite short like mine!), but there’s nothing that could be called scrambling. 

Lochan Bealach Cornaidh - my shelter is the pale spot just right of centre near the bottom of the picture

 

Early in the day the sun was hot and the air still with only an occasional touch of a breeze. Sticky with sunscreen and sweat I laboured up the great rock block of Spidean Coinich, the southernmost Corbett. Back at the Bealach a’ Cornaidh – there’s no way to climb all three Corbetts without backtracking several times – I climbed the unnamed 745 metre top to the north that is actually the key summit as the three Corbetts lie to the north, south and east. As I continued on to the northernmost Corbett, Sail Ghorm, the wind began to strengthen rapidly. On the summit I donned a windshirt as I turned and headed back to the 745 metre top and then out east to Sail Garbh, blown about by the wind. 

View over Loch Assynt to Suilven

 

Back at the col with the 745 metre top I took the path that cuts across the slope towards the Bealach a’ Cornaidh, soon dropping out of the buffeting wind. The sun was hot again and I stopped by a stream for a drink and to sit in the sunshine before returning to my tent, which I could see below, already in the shade. High above a golden eagle circled and I watched it for a while before it drifted away and vanished into the distance. 

After sunset, Lochan Bealach Cornaidh

 

Down at camp I could hear stags roaring not far away. Across the lochan I picked out a herd of fifteen or so hinds with a big stag close by and a smaller one trailing them some distance behind. Both stags roared but I didn’t see them venture towards each other.

Moonrise, Lochan Bealach Cornaidh

 

Wandering down to the sandy shore of the lochan, pockmarked with the hoof prints of deer, I watched the soft, subtle, pink dusk light reflected in the water. After a while a waning moon rose into the eastern sky, shining through bands of thin cloud. Stars appeared and the hills faded to silhouettes. There was an intense feeling of peace and quiet. I sat and watched the wild, content.

Quinag camp