It’s usually a sign things haven’t gone to plan when you’re writing “DAY 2” in your journal of a 24-hour running challenge…
I set off from Kinlochhourn at 5:30am, intending to cover the Knoydart and Loch Cuaich Munros, finishing back at my bike left at Cuaich Dam. Hopefully back by early evening ready to go pick up Jamie and Stanny from their Cuillin Ridge epic, on my way over to Skye for the week.
This was already ‘Plan C’. Plan A had been to walk in to Knoydart as far as possible on Friday afternoon, and bivvy at Barrisdale Bothy saving at least 10km, maybe even 15km if the weather was nice enough to bivvy near the summit of Ladhar Bheinn. The weather in the Northwest on Friday afternoon and Saturday night had been awful and MWIS had forecast near-galeforce winds on the summits. I decided not to risk it and wait until morning to do the walk in instead.
Plan B was to ask my “Bagger 2/backup” group on the planning spreadsheet if they were still doing Knoydart and if I could start at the other end of the route (going up Gairich first) just in case of a late finish with the weather. I found out too late that they’d been re-assigned to cover another gap in Glen Feshie! Oh well, it would be a longer day, but hopefully decent progress could be made on the flat approach to Barrisdale and I could make up time with an earlier start.
Progress to Barrisdale was slow. The rivers and burns were in spate from last night’s rain, and the start of the path was chest high in wet bracken, soaking me through within about 10 minutes of starting. At Barrisdale Bay, I was so wet I figured there was nothing to lose by wading across the river mouth (fortunately at low tide with the sea loch), which saved a couple of kilometers trekking upstream to the footbridge at the bothy.
I reached Ladhar Bheinn around 10am, sent a quick message to Ken, who replied with “12/282, Good going!”. It was clagged in on the summit but it seemed like I was making reasonable progress now. Fate duly tempted, the route to Luinne Bheinn quickly became pathless, and navigation was by compass and dead-reckoning for a while until finding the path up to the summit. Quite a bit of time was lost here, and around lunchtime I messaged Jamie to see how they were doing on the Cuillin, saying it was looking like a late finish for me now, but hopefully would still be over to Sligachan later to pick them up. They sounded keen and confident they’d make the full ridge, so I breathed a brief sigh of relief. At Meall Buidhe the clag lifted for a while and there was a fantastic view across the Sound of Sleat, with the Cuillin Ridge visible in the distance. I wondered how they were getting on.
I started feeling a bit rough heading down Meall Buidhe around 3pm. My knees were really feeling the rocky descent, and the line I picked turned out to be awkward and required a bit of scrambling to get down to the main path. I dropped back down to sea level, and jogged along to the ruins at Carnoch. I wasn’t feeling great here, I’d started feeling a bit nauseous on the descent for some reason. I stopped on the bridge not far from Sourlies Bothy, seriously considering it as a potential bail-out option. I was looking at the climb up Sgùrr na Cìche and the distance left to go. I wanted to send a message to Carnethy HQ saying things weren’t looking great from here, but I wouldn’t have any signal until the top of Sgùrr na Cìche. I’d have been out of signal for 4-5 hours by then. The climb up to Sgùrr na Cìche was boggy and pathless, I’d lost all the height I’d gained from earlier and my final line up to the top (now clagged in again) required yet more unexpected scrambling to reach it.
Finally back in contact with Ken at Carnethy HQ on Sgùrr na Cìche, it was early evening now. I’d slowed down a lot and was exhausted from the long climb up to the summit. I messaged Ken: “4 more to go, next couple are closer…but looking like a late finish.” The reply sign-off this time had changed from “Good progress!” (on Ladhar Bheinn), to simply, “Good luck!”…
I was really feeling the day’s mileage and ascent now, and my feet/legs/knees were knackered and struggling with anything other than flat ground (which there wasn’t much of up here…) I think I had just done the 3rd to last Munro, Sgurr nan Coireachean, and was about to switch off my phone to save battery until the next summit when a message from John Busby came through (via Twitter!): “Is anyone close enough to get up Gairich? Not that I don’t have faith in Mr Valters…” Clearly John had been following the map (and the drama!) better than me at this stage and realised I was pushing it fine to be reaching Gairich anywhere this side of midnight.
Brief panic ensued. Later in the day the messages on the main WhatsApp group had transitioned from summit pictures, to reports of folk being back at base and enjoying beer, pizza, and even hot tubs, and now to a tense scramble to get someone up Gairich. It was clagged in again here and now starting to get dark. I was still on the hill! I got the map out to reassess. Gairich seemed further away than ever. It might as well have been Mount Keen in Aberdeenshire. I was now not just worried about not reaching Gairich in time (and the only Carnethy not to complete their assigned Munros!), but also not being around at Sligachan later to pick up the Cuillin ridge team, as well as facing a benightment on the hill.
Back at Carnethy HQ a rescue plan had swung into action. Mick James and Jonathon Marks were heading off to bag Gairich and save the day. Arrangements would be made for Jamie and Stanny at Sligachan. I just had to make it to Sgùrr Mòr before midnight and disaster would be averted. Buoyed on (albeit very slowly now) by lots of supportive messages from the WhatsApp group, I head off in the dark towards Sgùrr Mòr.
Sgùrr Mòr is preceded by the deceptively named Sgurr Beag [‘little peak’], which somehow seems a bigger hill, despite its name. I’m following the vague path under torchlight but really I’ve no idea what the terrain looks like in front for more than a few meters, the hills are shrouded in thick fog.
The last climb seems to keep going forever, the path twists and winds its way up to the rocky summit of Sgùrr Mòr. There is not much here apart from a small cairn. I double and triple check I am on the actual summit. I am. “Sgùrr Mòr, 23:46” I text Ken. 14 minutes to spare. A few minutes later a photo comes through of Mick and Jonathon at the summit of Gairich.
We’ve done it.
Epilogue: I can’t face moving on any further past Sgùrr Mòr now. My feet are badly blistered from being continuously wet through for the last 17 hours. I tell HQ I’m bivvying here for the night and will walk out in the morning when it gets light. I put on all my remaining layers and crawl into the bothy shelter/bivvy bag. I think I manage a few hours’ sleep, but as soon as it starts to get light I decide not to hang around shivering and hobble off the hill. Jamie and Stanny have made it back to Glen Brittle in the early hours (no thanks to me, or the Sligachan Hotel being able to put them up for the night). I head out down Glen Kingie and back to Cuaich Dam. Gairich looms, almost mockingly, high above Loch Cuaich. My bike is there waiting for me. At around 11:30am I get back to my tent at Kinlochhourn, 30 hours after I set off yesterday morning. But all-in-all, a grand day out on the hills.
https://www.strava.com/activities/5796885114
Declan Valters