From the parking spot at the foot of Glen Catacol an alluring track runs up into the woods and straight through a new deer fence, the sort of irritating obstacle which makes even the best behaved walker wish for a pair of wire-cutters! We managed to crawl underneath and proceed up the steep north ridge of Meall nan Damh, the sort of convex slope which encourages frequent rests to enjoy the retrospective view. Eventually a large cairn appeared but even this was not the top, simply the sign of a barely perceptible easing of the gradient.
The descent to the little lochan on the col seemed even steeper but thereafter we found traces of a track along the ridge, a sign that the majority of walkers do only the Beinn Bhreac, Beinn Bharrain circuit, which was probably what we had done on our almost forgotten visit many years ago. Today we climbed into thick mist on the broad whaleback ridge of Beinn Bhreac but as we dropped down to the col with Beinn Bharrain the clouds began to drift away giving spectacular glimpses of the rocky north-west ridge of Mullach Buidhe and of the even more spectacular but much more distant pinnacles of the A'Chir ridge. By the time we reached the trig point we were in brilliant sunshine.
We aborted a descent to Dubh Loch and the vague prospect of a diversion to the almost-Marilyn Sail Chalmadale. Steepening ground covered in scree and boulders made it suddenly seem a lot more attractive to return over Beinn Bhreac, now completely free of mist. We only just maintained our record of meeting nobody on a Graham so far in 1996 for we met several walkers heading that way as we climbed back onto the slightly lower hill.
A track runs from the col along the steep eastern flanks of Beinn Bhreac, riven by massive landslips, towards the col with Beinn Tarsuinn where we found a pleasant spot for a rest and foot bathing session in the Allt nan Calman before continuing to the summit of this hill which only just misses Marilyn status.
It was a very steep climb onto the second Beinn Bhreac of the day which, although lower, earns a place in the tables. It was now a beautiful day, although the higher peaks around Goatfell remained in mist for the most part. We decided to stay high and returned over Craig na h-Iolaire and down an interesting rocky spur to the foot of Glen Catacol and the car after a tough twelve hour circuit.
The col between the two hills is also covered in trees but by planning a route from above we got through without too much trouble, this time crawling under the fence to re-enter the trees and finding a gate of sorts to emerge on the grassy slopes of Meall nan Gabhar.
We visited all three tops of this hill, the first overlooking its steep northern prow, the second carrying a small cairn and the third, unmarked, which has recently been declared the true summit. Finally we went across to the fourth top, with very little re-ascent, which counts as a separate hill, Meall nan Tighearn, and which, being sharper, seems the highest, although actually 5 metres lower according to the OS. All four gave close up views of Ben Lui, veiled in black cloud and flanked by Ben Oss and Beinn a'Chleibh on which we could see tiny figures; no surprise since it's just over 3000 feet high!
We came down onto the banks of the Eas a'Mhadaidh which appears to flow uphill out of the corrie, perhaps not an illusion if the map is examined carefully, although there is something odd about this map which shows various sloping lochans in its south-west corner. The descent was straightforward since the track from Succoth Lodge now runs right onto the col.
From the summit the lower but more shapely Carn Loch nan Amhaichean could be seen standing boldly above its eponymous lochan and the traverse thereto was straightforward, along the north side of the rather stormy loch onto the steep north ridge which was a little disappointing being far less well defined than either the map or the view from Beinn nan Eun had suggested.
A rough traverse brought us down to the banks of the Abhainn Beinn nan Eun and afternoon tea on the bench outside a spartan shooting hut at the foot of a beautiful waterfall. Wyvis Lodge itself, although in apparently perfect condition, was completely deserted and is perhaps used only as a shooting lodge. Here we recovered our hidden bicycles which were very welcome for the long ride down Loch Glass.
The pleasant track along Loch a'Bhraoin was a familiar one having been used as exit from a backpacking traverse from Poolewe and again for the Corbett Creag Rainich. The Corbett indeed is easier than these two Grahams, being less remote and not being one of a pair. By tradition we stopped for a snack at the bothy which was in a sorry state with the door falling off the hinges but still looked as if it had been in recent use.
The river crossing was easy after a very dry spring and the long pull up the north-east ridge of Beinn Bheag was enlivened only by increasingly splendid views of the quartzite slabs and screefields of Mullach Coire Mhic Fhearchair. At the summit the whole splendid southward and westward panorama was revealed with Slioch, as so often, particularly prominent.
Although both hills are mainly grass the drop between them is quite abrupt and the descent to the col called for care. We felt that the view from Groban might be inferior, since it lies further from the most spectacular hills, but being higher we were looking right over Beinn Bheag to very much the same landscape with the addition of an old favourite,my last Corbett, Beinn Dearg Mor, peeping between the pale grey tops of Sgurr Ban and Beinn a'Chlaidheimh.
We parked at the picnic site by Kirkton kirk. The track at Tullich carries one of those private notices which can be intimidating to walkers unfamiliar with Scottish tradition. Further on waymarks appear guiding the walker around the outside of the house and garden. The track has virtually vanished in the boggy valley and is traceable only by a series of cairns. As it circles round the north-east shoulder of Glas Bheinn it appears briefly only to vanish again on the approach to Bealach a'Ghlas-chnoic, so that we found ourselves well above the col at the small lochan almost without trying.
Glas Bheinn and Sgurr a'Gharaidh both have impressive crags on this north side. Between lies an area free of rock according to the map but we now realised our error in supposing that this mini corrie would be an easy angled one. A casual glance had suggested the contours fairly well spaced but we now noticed that this was an illusion caused by some of them being omitted altogether!
Our first impression was that this side of the hill was unassailable but as we sat down by the lochan to consider the problem we watched a number of deer and sheep making their way upwards. All went by way of a low point in the encircling crags and emerged on the apparently grassy slopes above. We decided to try the same line rising east to west across the face. Sure enough at the crux point a clear path appeared worn by generations of animals and perhaps a very few walkers. The little scramble was easy, even for me with only one functional hand. Nevertheless it was quite exhilarating to look back down this imposing face and wonder at the ease with which we had ascended it. Definitely not a route for descent!
After this exciting ascent the summit was something of an anticlimax although there is a cairn pleasingly perched on the cliff edge, perhaps not quite at the highest point. Celebrations were in order for this was Rowland's Graham number two hundred.
We came down southwards, swinging towards the main river which could be seen glinting far below. Just where the ground steepens out of this vast corrie is a beautiful half hidden waterfall twisting its way down the cliff in several steps. It was quite impressive even after the long dry spell and we lingered there for a long time. We dozed in this comfortable suntrap, now confident of our route since we had spotted a gate in the forest fence below with a clear track not far beyond. When we reached the gate we were annoyed to find it fastened with four strong but rusty padlocks and apparently designed to be almost unclimbable. Whether it was intended to keep non-keyholders in or out we could not decide but we wondered who actually lawfully used it in this remote corner.
The track, which was further away than it looked, was also frustrating, leading above Lochcarron and then swinging right back again. We left it, climbed another fence, easy this time and were soon strolling along the seafront at the end of a most rewarding circuit.
The east ridge of Beinn Bhreac is quite sharp and narrow before splitting beyond the little top of Mam Hael to lead either to the Corbett Creach Bheinn or to the Graham Beinn Molurgainn. This double topped hill rather surprisingly gave better views than its higher neighbour, both eastwards into Glen Etive and westwards towards Mull. We took the gamble of coming down the pleasant south-west ridge, banking on finding a crossing point at the river junction since it was quite clear that the lower valley was virtually impassable and we would have to climb back over the ridge to return to our vehicle in Gleann Salach.
Although seven metres lower, the more easterly of the two Glen Roy Leana Mhors is harder to climb being on the wrong side of the river. The bridge at Cranachan, like the farm itself, is slowly rotting away. A forest fence hints at the reason. It looks as if the lower slopes of the hill will soon be planted with trees. For the moment there is no problem. We worked our way round to a gate and were soon on the open fell.
Leana Mhor translates as big meadow and, like its namesake across the glen, the hill well matches its title although on the col between south and north tops bog has taken over. The little lochan marked here was merely a peaty hollow with a couple of tiny puddles. Had it been misty we would have been casting around for something more substantial as a marker for the summit.
Beyond the flat top the hill changes character abruptly. The steep north ridge plunges down in a come hither fashion. Can it really descend so far in so short a space without finishing on a difficult crag?
Alongside the Mallaig road this morning the streams had been pouring down in spate. The River Roy knew none of this and flowed low and serenely with most of its stony bed quite dry. It was easy to wade and save a long detour northwards to the bridge.
The relative popularity of this area, despite the low altitude of the hills, was reflected by the fact that Rowland had climbed Scaraben and Maiden Pap before finding them listed in any tables. Smean had been omitted however, a mistake since it has a very splendid summit plateau, dotted with several rocky tors of which the highest is quite imposing. A weakness on the east allows easy access to the top which is surprisingly grassy and onto which we had to crawl because of the wind.
Below another rock tor on the south-east corner of the hill a marvellously sheltered suntrap offered a perfect lunch stop before crossing a col teeming with deer and climbing onto the rolling ridge of Scaraben. This is a quartzite mountain and there are large patches of these particularly rough stones which give it a pale grey appearance from afar, as if it was in a perpetual haze. Most of the bad going can be avoided and the ridge is fast and easy walking, especially with the wind behind. The middle top is the highest and carries the trig point inside a welcome shelter.
Because the three tops seem to feature so prominently in every view of this hill I elected to visit them all but on reaching the last I abandoned the ridge and plunged straight down the north face. This convex face was slightly unnerving, with the feeling that at any moment I might arrive on the top of a cliff. Looking back afterwards there were no cliffs but lots of unpleasant bands of quartzite scree so it was perhaps a bit of luck to come down with no backtracking entirely on grass at exhilarating speed.
A grassy track leads easily up Glentress Rig and when it peters out a line of shooting butts and then a fence lead on to the top. The butts were in pristine condition, neatly numbered, and I was glad that I had not postponed my visit until Monday, the so-called "glorious twelfth" when grouse shooting begins.
It was clear and bright by the time I reached the summit, only an hour from the car. The Eildon Hills were conspicuous eastwards, looking very black while the sun illuminated the fields all around. Northwards the Firth of Forth looked surprisingly close with a bit of Edinburgh catching a ray of sunshine. I turned my back on it, followed the easy ridge to the south top and then dropped into the valley of the Glentress Burn where I ate lunch at the ancient tower marked on the map. Little remains to show that it has been a tower but the walls showed traces of cement suggesting that this ruin might not be exceedingly old. A mass of nettles is a sure sign of habitation I had read recently, marking the location of the midden or sewage area.
I walked a short distance on the track to Blackhope Farm then forked right onto a pleasant grassy path. I expected to find a fence along the ridge since the map shows a regional boundary and I was not disappointed. Alongside it ran a good firm track which made for very easy fast walking along this gentle ridge. I was walking parallel to the Pentland Hills and pondered on the contrast between the snowy sociable Sunday which we had spent there last February and this lonely August afternoon on the grassy ridges of Blackhope Scar. Both days had given delight yet they were so different. Who can argue that peak bagging is a narrow blinkered experience?
The path faded beyond the single summit of the mysteriously pluralised Huntly Cot Hills but the going was still easy with old fence posts lying conveniently across some of the boggiest bits, a sign that this hill is quite popular perhaps. Nobody was here today. Even sheep were in short supply. I drank the dregs of my water bottle to celebrate arrival at the top of my Graham number 200.
The view of typical rolling Southern Upland ridges was greatly enhanced by a dramatic sky with several layers of cloud, none of them threatening the promised rain. The fence continued, swinging down the ridge to the east of Blackhope Water where neither going nor view was as good as on the way up. It was worth keeping high though to enjoy the skyscapes on an ever improving afternoon.
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