Brrrr! I've just come in from the cold, the hail and the howling gale. I had my doubts setting off this morning, that there'd be anyone mad enough to have a go at Blaven in this dismal weather, but sure enough when I got to the car park there were two cars ahead of me. Cheered at the thought that there were a few resilient souls about, I pinned up my '50% off membership today' notice and set off to inspect the lower reaches of the path, which not very far in I discovered was under several inches of water. That's what three weeks of rain will do. The great lady herself was black and formidable with torrents of water thundering down her flanks. I abandoned any thought of walking into Coire Uaigneach and returned to set up my 'office' in the car park at the start of the trail. The office is a camping chair and a rucksack packed with information about the Trust and a copy of the latest journal, which I enjoy reading outdoors and thought would be good to show to anyone I spoke to. Thus prepared I settled in, watching the cloud patterns on the slopes of Beinn Dearg Mor and Beinn na Cro on occasions where the sun broke through the gloom.
It wasn't long before I spotted a walker returning to her car. Curious as to why I was sitting there we had a chat and I explained a little about the Trust and John Muir himself, whom she had not heard of. She was from Newcastle and walked with her husband in the Lake District, this was their first visit to Skye and they were enjoying it in spite of the three week monsoon. I offered my JMT journal by way of reading material while she waited in her car for her husband, but she declined, preferring to admire the view.
A while later a party of 6 appeared, booted and spurred and in jolly spirits in spite of the worsening weather. One woman among them wanted to know 'what kind of nutter sits out on a mountainside in the rain?' My mention of the Trust was met by 'ah, yes...John Muir' and a general nod of approval. 'Sign me up!' one man said.
Joy! one new member would be worth sitting out the hailshowers for and I duly handed over the details, before tracing the line of the path for them on their OS map.
The group set off at a brisk pace, their coloured anoraks bobbing along until they vanished from view. I huddled into my waterproofs and hunkered down, still expecting the first party of walkers on their return and supressing the temptation to duck off to the Blue Shed cafe in Torrin to warm my hands with a cuppa. They came eventually, wind-blasted and drenched. One man told me he measured a wind speed of 75 miles per hour at 400 metres, and at this point gave up the ghost. Wise, I thought. Blaven my not be the Cuillin Ridge but it's still a serious undertaking in bad weather. I would have turned back myself for less. We talked awhile and they wished me well with my work. At that point and with the cold starting to bite, I called it a day.
I left Blaven swathed in storms and admiring the hardiness of the last 6 plucky walkers who had set off on her trail. I understand their determination, travelling hundreds of miles to Scotland to answer the call of the mountains, the irresistable pull of wildness...and even if it's only one new member for the JMT today I like to think that Blaven has cast her spell and that all who tread upon her come back the better for the experience. As John Muir himself said, 'In every walk with nature one receives far more than he sees.'
Sunday, 29 May 2011
Sunday, 15 May 2011
A Long Walk to Loch Coruisk
Camasunary and the lands on the North-western side of Loch Coruisk are part of the JMT’s Strathaird Estate
This is without a doubt, one of the most spectacular walks on the Isle of Skye, and as coastal walks go, one of the most challenging. Once you’ve walked into Camasunary Bay the route skirts along the cliffs of Rubha Ban and Rubha Buidhe (White Point and Yellow Point) to the notorious Bad Step at Loch nan Leachd.
I’ve only done this once and it was February, one of those magnificently clear Winter days which are ideal for walking, if there isn’t too much snow or ice about. Broadford had been clear of snow but we encountered about a foot of it by the time we made it up to Am Mam on the Camasunary Path, dazzling our eyes in with the sun so low in the sky.
We cut off the path for a quicker descent to the bay, anxious to for the river without delay, while the weather was still favourable. The tide was out, which helped as we picked our way across, feeling the frigid cold of the water as it seeped in over the tops of our boots.
Before us the black ribs of Sgurr na Stri, the peak of strife protruded through a blanket of ice and the needle point of Gars-bheinn beyond reared up like the Matterhorn.
We made our way along a thin ribbon of dirt track hugging the mountainside, often perilously eroded, as we rounded Rubha Ban. Once we rounded the headland the path became clearer and easier and somewhat sheltered as it wound its way towards Rubha Buidhe. From here onwards the going became tougher, the trail required scrambling in places, over fallen slabs and boulders; a test of stamina and concentration. We were coming closer to our final challenge, the Bad Step; a sliver of a crack running up a massive slab of rock. The ‘step’ is just about wide enough for the edge of a boot in places and hands are required to haul your body along to firmer footing once you’ve cleared it. Brian went ahead of me and I quickly followed, placing my feet after his and taking care to shift my body weight inwards, keeping three points of contact between me and the rock-face and not look at the sheer drop below. I calculated that the fall would be survivable, about 20-30ft, but hypothermia would finish you off in minutes.
Once over the Step the path cuts on the inside of Rubha Port Sgaile to the neck of the Scavaig River, crossable by stepping stones to reach Coruisk; Coir Uisge, the cauldron of water at the Cuillin’s black and heart. That day it greeted us, seething and storm coloured mirroring the icy daggers of the peaks, quite simply a landscape more dramatic than any I’d ever encountered. The Romantics had a word for this; sublime, a beauty that is astounding and terrifying.
We did not linger, the journey back would take what was left of the daylight. Coruisk lingered with us though. A memorable day out.
This is without a doubt, one of the most spectacular walks on the Isle of Skye, and as coastal walks go, one of the most challenging. Once you’ve walked into Camasunary Bay the route skirts along the cliffs of Rubha Ban and Rubha Buidhe (White Point and Yellow Point) to the notorious Bad Step at Loch nan Leachd.
I’ve only done this once and it was February, one of those magnificently clear Winter days which are ideal for walking, if there isn’t too much snow or ice about. Broadford had been clear of snow but we encountered about a foot of it by the time we made it up to Am Mam on the Camasunary Path, dazzling our eyes in with the sun so low in the sky.
We cut off the path for a quicker descent to the bay, anxious to for the river without delay, while the weather was still favourable. The tide was out, which helped as we picked our way across, feeling the frigid cold of the water as it seeped in over the tops of our boots.
Before us the black ribs of Sgurr na Stri, the peak of strife protruded through a blanket of ice and the needle point of Gars-bheinn beyond reared up like the Matterhorn.
We made our way along a thin ribbon of dirt track hugging the mountainside, often perilously eroded, as we rounded Rubha Ban. Once we rounded the headland the path became clearer and easier and somewhat sheltered as it wound its way towards Rubha Buidhe. From here onwards the going became tougher, the trail required scrambling in places, over fallen slabs and boulders; a test of stamina and concentration. We were coming closer to our final challenge, the Bad Step; a sliver of a crack running up a massive slab of rock. The ‘step’ is just about wide enough for the edge of a boot in places and hands are required to haul your body along to firmer footing once you’ve cleared it. Brian went ahead of me and I quickly followed, placing my feet after his and taking care to shift my body weight inwards, keeping three points of contact between me and the rock-face and not look at the sheer drop below. I calculated that the fall would be survivable, about 20-30ft, but hypothermia would finish you off in minutes.
Once over the Step the path cuts on the inside of Rubha Port Sgaile to the neck of the Scavaig River, crossable by stepping stones to reach Coruisk; Coir Uisge, the cauldron of water at the Cuillin’s black and heart. That day it greeted us, seething and storm coloured mirroring the icy daggers of the peaks, quite simply a landscape more dramatic than any I’d ever encountered. The Romantics had a word for this; sublime, a beauty that is astounding and terrifying.
We did not linger, the journey back would take what was left of the daylight. Coruisk lingered with us though. A memorable day out.
Friday, 6 May 2011
Thoughts on Blaven
I'm cheating, this is a post from my personal blog but I thought it would fit in nicely here since it's inspired by Blaven, Skye's iconic mountain, cared for by the JMT and also the idea that nature can enrich you in physical and spiritual ways, something which John Muir believed in passionately.
I'll be out and about on the Blaven path this Summer as part of JMT Skye's Wild Land Awareness programme, looking forward to getting started and spending some time on one of my favourite mountains.
a change of perspective
I found an interesting post today on the difference between being ‘creative’ and being ‘productive’. This made me think about being outdoors and the kind of activities that I enjoy. Planning is an intrinsic part of this, as is training and acquiring the right gear. Goals are set and distances are measured. I could tell you how far I could cycle in a day or how long it would take me to climb a mountain factoring in the ‘walk in’.
Like so many others I came to Scotland with an urge to knock off hills and tick them off in my copy of Cameron MacNeish’s ’Munros’, getting excited about anything over 914m. I type this realising that it’s been over a year since I sumitted a munro. So what made me change tack so quickly and so completely? Have I lost my nerve or simply lost my appetite for the challenge? A combination of things. Most significantly, the way I experience being in the hills has changed. I’ve found, recently, that I get far more joy from simply ‘being’ in places.
I spent a glorious June afternoon sitting entirely by myself in the vast bowl of Coire Uaigneich on Blaven. For about 2 hours I did nothing other than eat my lunch and take in the views, lying back in the heather. I felt no need to go for the summit, which was clear of cloud and majestic against the blue sky. This sounds daft, but it was as if the mountain was speaking in my head, ‘Sit down and open your eyes…I’ve got so many things to show you.’
When I had enough of ‘being’, I packed up and descended, full up with the essence and beauty of the mountain. For sure, I could have pulled myself up the craggy gullies and slabs and filled up my mind with black rock, grazed hands and aching thighs but I didn’t. I was no longer interested in ticking off a list.
Creative or productive? I’d like to think I’ve evolved a creative relationship with the mountains, which a lot of the time, involves doing nothing asides from thinking. I admire anyone with the energy and committment to be a ‘productive’ mountaineer but it’s no longer a priority for me. I might never traverse the Cuillin Ridge but I’m ok with that, so long as I can find a good place en route to sit back and watch the clouds.
JMT Skye wild land awareness
The John Muir trust owns and manages land in Torrin, Strathaird and Sconser on the Isle of Skye, some of the most spectacular landscapes in Scotland, designated as National Scenic Area (NSA), a Site of Specific Scientific Interest (SSSI) and a Special Area of Conservation (SAC).
The Trust works with communities on the island to ensure that this wild land is conserved in a manner that is sensitive and locally appropriate.
Last year JMT Wild Land Awareness programme was launched to raise awareness of the work of the trust and encourage people to get involved. The Skye team is about to take to the hills over the Summer months to spread the word and find out what people think about our wild places. If you spot any of us in our JMT fleeces we're happy to chat and give you an information leaflet. We will be posting our thoughts and photographs here, but in the meantime you can read more about the JMT's work on Skye on the website: http://www.jmt.org/skye-estates.asp
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