I felt very guilty as I climbed the bulldozed track from Cailness, not because of its fortified gate and the high fence which we had climbed to join it but because I remembered the horror with which I had first set eyes on this monstrosity. Back in the old Munro-bagging days we made several long weekend trips to the Highlands by catching the midnight train from Crewe. Dawn would break as we pulled out of Glasgow along the Firth of Clyde, Gare Loch, Loch Long and then, always a special moment, the first sight of Loch Lomond. And one morning this ghastly scar was there, a more dreadful sacrilege to my eyes than any act of religious blasphemy.
The aesthetically correct way of climbing Cruinn a'Bheinn would be to come over Ben Lomond, of which it is a northern outlier. Arrival at the top of the track revealed this quite clearly, being an excellent spot from which to appreciate the contrast between the two hills, Ben Lomond being not only much higher but also far more elegant with its sharp ridges and pointed summit. Cruinn a'Bheinn is a lumpy pudding of a hill but quite a steep sided pudding. Indeed it is almost encircled by a line of crags which were looking particularly fierce today, being bedecked with icicles. A fence crosses the bog and takes the easiest line up this northern side of the hill, although still uncomfortably steep with large patches of soft snow to wallow through.
The temptation to continue down either the east ridge or the south, towards Ben Lomond, was soon rejected at the prospect of an even longer crossing of the bog and we returned the same way, clinging onto the fence in the steepest section to avoid sliding down, snow and all, to the bog below.
I should have climbed it years ago. I was dropped on the shores of Loch Arklet with the intention of climbing the two Corbetts Beinn a'Choin and Stob a'Choin, the two dog peaks, and being collected at Inverlochlarig. Meall Mor lies right between them but, not being in any tables and having lots of ups and downs on its ridge, I decided to omit it. The traverse along its northern slopes was most unpleasant and took so long that I never got up Stob a'Choin anyway. I remembered this occasion ruefully when we embarked on the collection of the two-thousanders.
Today we parked at Stronachlachar and rode the bikes round the head of Loch Katrine, tarmac all the way but forbidden to unauthorised motor vehicles so a cyclist's dream. The southern slopes are forbiddingly steep but the unnamed stream which flows south below Stob an Duibhe is the key to an easy line of ascent. Once up the steep lower slopes beside the stream a definite ridge takes shape on its western side and leads up to the main ridge at a small top. Then it is down up down up to the summit. Looks simple on the map but there were cliffs and vast soft snowfields. Mist level was about 700m. After quite a lot of casting about for a feasible line we arrived at a small cairn. All our careful map reading decreed that this should be the top but a snowy slope beyond loomed out of the mist to taunt us. So yet another down up, northwestwards, to confirm, by a glimpse into Glen Larig, that we had been correct all along.
We came down a marvellous vast snowfield above the headwaters of the stream which lower down forms the Sput Dubh waterfall, a taste of the arctic, before rejoining our upward ridge for the return to the bicycles.
The stream just south of Auchengaich Reservoir was the key to our ascent. We followed its north bank and were then lured across onto a conspicuous tongue between two parallel streams, clearly shown on the map. This little ridge, although hardly in the same league as Crib Goch or the Aonach Eagach, presented a delightful but all too short knife edge section before deteriorating into a standard boring rough grassy slog. The fact that the knife edge led up into the mist undoubtedly added to its allure, for when we looked back at this ridge in sunshine later in the day it could hardly have looked more boring.
The main ridge was pleasantly smooth and grassy, leading up first to a cairn and then to a trig point. Dissuaded by both wind and mist from any extension, we came straight down for lunch on the sheltered shore of the reservoir and were actually quite pleased, on subsequently emerging through the gate, to read the notice strictly prohibiting picnics in the vicinity.
Turning north we entered a totally different landscape, picking our way down through broken crags and big patches of snow, though rather less than we had expected to find on the hills in April. The weather was unusual for it was raining heavily, yet the clouds stood well above the highest summits.
The word Tharsuin in a hill name usually denotes an obstacle more easily traversed than avoided and the Beinn Tharsuin which lies characteristically athwart the ridge between these two Grahams is no exception. From its summit cairn the south-east ridge of Stob na Boine Druim-fhinn looked rather daunting and we were almost tempted into a swing westwards to avoid it. Fortunately temptation was resisted and the steep struggle onto the ridge was rewarded by airy but easy progress thereon to the trig point.
The fourth summit of this rocky quartet, Mullach Coire a' Chuir, has too little reascent to qualify for the tables, although it was hard to believe this either from its appearance or the effort required to incorporate it in the traverse. The rain had stopped but mist was swirling around its tiny summit cairn so that the mystery mountain Cruach nam Mult appeared as if across a bottomless gulf while the second summit of this hill, which gives it the forked silhouette which we had photographed from Cnoc Coinnich, was little more than a grey smear in the eastern cloudscape.
The whole western side of these hills is covered in new forest, traversed by a forest road, not shown on our nearly new map, which led us on a great northwards sweep before escaping down the valley to Succoth and the waiting car.
Thinking of our recent 'Jumbo Hill', Meall Mor, I mused that this 'big hill' could perhaps better be likened to an elephant since it has five distinct ridges corresponding to four legs and a trunk. Clutched in the trunk is the 'bun', Clach Beinn, which the animal is dunking in the waters of Loch Eck. The summit plateau too is broad enough to resemble the back of an elephant - but enough of such nonsense. This hill is one splendid enough to shrug off comparisons, whether with mastodon, Munro or Corbett.
The area is rich in two-thousanders. Creag Tharsuinn to the west, Beinn Bheag to the north and Beinn Ruadh across Loch Eck had all given us memorable ascents while southwards we could just make out Cruach nan Capull through the haze of this beautiful sunny afternoon.
The east ridge, named Meall Dubh on the map, gave a lovely descent with retrospective glances at the impressive cliffs on the eastern flanks of the mountain. Eventually they are left behind and easy grassy slopes led down northwards to a break in the trees, not seen from above, and the waiting bicycles.
We varied the return on an upper track, obvious on the map but now terminated abruptly by a landslide. A desperate descent was required to transport ourselves and cycles to the track below. A most satisfying expedition and a fitting finale to the attractive cluster of Grahams between Loch Fyne and Loch Long.
Between these two Grahams lies a lower hill, Beinn a' Chuirn, and it was quite impossible from the summit of Beinn Suidhe to believe that this insignificant hummock could possibly have enough reascent to earn a place in Dawson's tables. Neither from this viewpoint nor from our old map was it possible to appreciate the depth of the col which lies in a hidden rocky cleft. Moreover this col looked a mere stroll away, the true three kilometres of this long rough ridge being drastically foreshortened from this aspect.
The eastern side of Beinn a' Chuirn was quite a different matter. Steep cliffs bar a direct descent to the col with Meall Tairbh. Judicious zigzagging is required to avoid a long detour northwards. The lochan strewn plateau of Meall an Laoigh must then be crossed to reach the steep slopes of Meall Tairbh ahead. It was difficult to pick the best line across it even on this perfect clear day.
Thickening cloud and a strengthening east wind made the little rocky tor near the summit a very welcome shelter for a hurried afternoon tea before the descent to Lochan Orain and the climb onto the ridge of Ben Inverveigh. This gave a magnificent bird's eye view along Glen Orchy and the opportunity to examine Beinn na Sroine for a possible ascent route which evaded its girdle of trees. The firm flat ridge of Ben Inverveigh was a fitting climax to this long day; well worth the extra ascent despite its failure to qualify as a Graham.
It is surrounded by higher hills and approaching it presented quite a logistical problem. The trek there and back from Victoria Bridge seemed too painful to contemplate, especially since the north-east ridge of the hill, viewed recently from Beinn Suidhe, appeared far too steep for comfort. A bit of lateral thinking suggested a closer approach from Glen Strae, using the stalkers path to Lairig Dhoireann which, like many such paths, was a good deal clearer, pleasanter and better preserved in its upper reaches than in the bogs below.
The skirting of Beinn Lurachan required a certain amount of ascent above its uncomfortably steep north face while the short climb over Meall Beithe did not seem worth evading. The south-east ridge of Meall Garbh leads, without problems, to a very rough plateau. There is no cairn, just a single stone on a flat rock, making this one of the wildest and loneliest summits in Scotland. The view will not be spectacular. Today it was barely perceptible. Beinn nan Lus, hardly visible through the haze, was the hill which particularly drew our gaze, standing so close, yet out of reach today, across the deep gash of Glen Kinglass.
By the time we had regained the col black storm clouds were sweeping in, enveloping all the summits in thick mist. Undeterred we recrossed Meall Beithe and this time went right onto the ridge of Beinn Lurachan. Just beyond the summit cairn the mist started to disperse giving glimpses of Glen Strae far below and soon we were descending the south-west ridge in brilliant sunshine. It's a pity that this splendid hill, which was actually our highest summit of the day, has too little reascent to qualify as a Graham.
Since our encounter at Wag we have been wary of cycling past signs forbidding unauthorised vehicles but the added 'please' on the one at Inverawe suggested a friendlier welcome and a cheery wave at the first farm confirmed it. The track was in good condition although a certain amount of pushing was required to climb out of Glen Noe and then Glen Liver before returning to sea level again in Glen Kinglass.
A walker would obviously go straight up the west ridge, despite the somewhat forbidding aspect of the rough slopes above Ardmaddy. With cycles however it seemed more inviting to follow the excellent track up the glen which was easily ridden in both directions. The map suggests a possible line of weakness in the steep southern flanks up the Allt Narrachan. A single glance dispelled such an idea although perhaps a route could be made up the western ridge bounding this rocky stream.
We continued to the Allt Hallater where we deposited the bikes and went straight up the east ridge of Beinn nan Lus which was very steep in its lower reaches. At last the promised good weather had fully materialised and yesterday's hill behind us was seen in perfect clarity with the ridges of Beinn Eunaich and Cruachan Ben, still carrying quite a lot of snow, completing the southern panorama. Northwards the view was dominated by Ben Starav, not seen at its most graceful from here, and the bulky Ben Agony itself. Arrival at the top revealed the less striking hills westwards across Loch Etive, three of which are two-thousanders which seem likely to demand another long hard day.
The summit of Beinn nan Lus carries a cairn so old and integrated into the hill that I wondered whether it pre-dated Munro and Corbett and their tables which have cast many a lower hill into obscurity. We descended northwards into the eastern corrie of the hill and hence down to the stalkers path along the Allt Hallater. The river was easily crossed after all the dry weather but it still carried enough water to display a succession of exceptionally attractive falls.
Today we took the track which zigzags up through the trees onto the lower slopes of Tullich Hill. As it entered the glen it deteriorated into the worst sort of ugly bulldozed monstrosity and we were quite convinced that it would link up with the track which our map showed coming round the south side of the hill. Instead it ended abruptly below the col in a quagmire. Escaping from this we gained the pleasant, mainly grassy slopes which led onto the ridge with hares running ahead of us every few yards.
The view from the flat summit is very circumscribed with the unalluring bulk of Ben Chonzie blocking any distant prospect southwards and the two Corbetts doing the same to east and west. Northwards lay quite an array of mountains but with the southern slopes now practically devoid of snow they did not present a particularly dramatic panorama. The ridge of this hill itself is very attractive however with short cropped heather and many peat hags, giving firm fast going after the long spell of dry weather. There is an impressive detached flake part way along the steep eastern flank. Eventually we swung west amongst shooting butts to locate the track down to Claggan farm.
In deference to the dubious ankles we planned a staightforward route traversing only three Grahams, one of which, Hill of Wirren, we had actually climbed before. Thus it was that we spent the second night at the delightful lodging of Cougie, having made a brief packless diversion onto the Marilyn Creag Dhubh en route.
Next morning saw five challengers struggling up the steep firebreak which has replaced the defunct track shown on the map. At the top the others swung east to seek the landrover track which follows a line of pylons while we headed back west onto the ridge of Carn a'Chaochain which led pleasantly but uneventfully to the trig point.
A fall of fresh snow during the night had enhanced the splendid prospect of Mam Sodhail and its surrounding Munros which are well seen from this vantage point. Westwards the peaks around Glen Shiel were partially obscured by another snow shower driving in as we wandered across to the slightly higher south top of our hill.
From here we could see the great expanse of bog which must be crossed to reach Glen Moriston, our next objective. Although this hill is easily attained from the north it does have a pleasantly remote atmosphere and is a particularly rewarding one to incorporate in a backpack of this sort.
The track runs out just where the map shows it doing so but a short boggy struggle onto the ridge soon found us on another which had perhaps come up from Cluny's Cave. A short rocky section was quite a struggle with the large packs but thereafter the ridge was pure delight, more especially so because of the splendid weather which interspersed brilliant sunshine with sudden snow showers and had covered the Cairngorms with a fresh cloak of purest white.
The path eastwards was less distinct and I think we left the ridge too soon for we encountered some unpleasantly rough steep ground before attaining a clear track through the trees which we had spotted from above. This is obviously quite a popular hill and well worth the effort whether peak-bagging or not.
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