We varied the return by an uncomfortably steep descent westwards mainly to visit the chambered cairn, Clach na Tiompan, which was totally uninteresting despite the unusual distinction of a name. More worthy of note was the romantically situated walled graveyard near Conichan which is inexplicably omitted from the OS map. We could just make out the date 1781 on the most elaborate stone.
The distant views from the top were superb, southwards to the Cairngorms with the deep gash of the Lairig Ghru prominent, and westwards to a glorious array of unidentified mountains, ridge upon ridge, a classic scene with each a slightly paler shade of purplish blue fading into the far distance. The nearer landscape was the sweep of empty moorland. Such a summit is hard to come to but the wildness and solitude is reward enough for the toil. One's experience of the mountains would be incomplete if one chose only the dramatic and crowded hills like Liathach and An Teallach, Helvellyn and Snowdon.
We returned down the southwest ridge, which gave slightly firmer going, to the bothy on the Moy Burn which was completely ruined, and the woodland track along Loch Moy, which disappointingly gave no views of the loch whatsoever.
We had more or less decided not to include the lower summit, Carn Garbh, in the day because the route round the ridges looked too depressingly boggy. However as we returned over the west ridge of Beinn Dhorain we made a snap decision to go straight down to the river and straight up the other side, a route which turned out easier than expected. The return along Glen Sletdale also was not too bad once we had waded the river. A clear deer track through the heather led to a wider one used by people and vehicles and hence back to the bikes at the end of an unexciting but quite pleasing walk.
We rode the bicycles up to Wag. This involved lifting them over or through one locked gate. A notice told all hill walkers to report to the head keeper. We rode up to his house and excited an army of caged dogs but there was no sign of human life. When we reached the end of the road at Wag two estate workers challenged us and told us that we should not have brought the bikes up. However they did not demand that we withdrew and so we headed straight for the steep slopes of the hill. They were every bit as painfully steep as they looked. This all round steepness is what gives the mountain such a dramatic profile from every direction of course. As expected the summit complements the steep slopes around by a pleasantly airy aspect and a spacious panorama. This prospect is rolling rather than dramatic however with the most striking hill now below one's feet rather than dominating the view.
We descended no less steeply westwards and climbed onto Morven's lower neighbour, Small Mount, a hill composed entirely of quartzite. What appeared from afar to be smooth white slabs turned out, on closer acquaintance, to be fields of white stones and boulders. It was a splendid viewpoint from which to appreciate the completely different grey screes on the steep slopes of Morven. Maiden Pap peeped over its north shoulder forming a 'mother and baby' picture for the camera.
The ride back to Berriedale was magnificent. It seems a pity that it can only be enjoyed by those who break the rules which ban bicycles on this splendid vehicle track.
We stopped for the very short climb up Struie. The gale made it difficult to stand up at the top but by sitting down at the cairn we could appreciate the splendid panorama of the Dornoch Firth. We then continued to the large parking area on the Strathory River from which a good track, not shown on the map, runs up to a disused quarry on the eastern slopes of Beinn Tharsuinn. From here it was an easy climb through the heather to this rather dull summit and we returned by more or less the same route.
The prospect of this combination of dreadful going and dreadful weather for the five miles to Beinn nan Eun drove us to select the chicken-hearted alternative of a quick descent to Loch Morie and a much more sheltered circuit from there. Fortunately we did not attempt a direct route which would have led into a ghastly combination of heather, crags and trees. We joined instead the path from Wyvis Lodge which gave a feasible descent to the loch although it has almost disappeared in its lower reaches.
By the time we had trudged down the loch the weather had improved and so instead of coming straight back on the track over Strath Mor we incorporated the ascent of Cnoc Ceislin into the circuit. This is another hill from Dawson's tables although not over two-thousand feet. It gave a striking view eastwards of the long line of oil rigs in the Cromarty Firth, backed by a very stormy sky, as well as the intriguing monument on the top of the neighbouring hill, Cnoc Fyrish.
A strong west wind dissuaded us from a prolonged stop on this summit and we dropped straight down eastwards to join the track which runs somewhat higher up the valley than shown on the map. We had a short stop in the shooting hut, a welcome respite from the wind, before taking the the north branch of the track which led through the rather attractive remains of what seemed to be a long neglected quarry. When this ran out we continued trackless northeastwards but this hillside is rather flat and not so boggy as we might have feared so it was not long before we were enjoying a paddle in the river at an easy crossing point just below the section where in runs in a small gorge. To avoid the road walking we came back over Craig Ealraich which looks quite dramatically craggy towering above the bealach but is an easy climb through the heather from the south.
This top rather unexpectedly had an 'end of the world' feel to it for it is an isolated outlier and on this very clear windy day gave views which seemed to stretch indefinitely across the eastern plains.
Our return, direct to the forest corner and the bicycles, was greatly facilitated through the heather by the lucky discovery of a persistent deer track along the side of the hill. This mountain was an unexpected pleasant surprise, especially notable for its unique situation on the eastern fringe of the Highlands.
Although these south slopes of Mount Blair look rough and uninviting the route to the little nick east of Over Craig turned out easier than anticipated thanks to a few sheep tracks leading in the right direction. Once on the ridge a beautiful track through the heather led upwards as the ridge swung northwards to the top. It was a day of incredible clarity and the vista southwards, as I gained height, stretched to far distant hills which were probably in the Southern Uplands. At the summit an equally dramatic western prospect opened up, although it was difficult to appreciate it in the face of the gale force west wind.
The descent northwards was mainly on a good track but rather uninspiring, so anybody peak-bagging this hill from the north would not enjoy its best features.
26/7/93
We peak-bagged this one from the north and a quick survey from the top did not suggest that any other approach would have been much more rewarding. I wore bogtrotters which turned out to be a very wise choice of footwear. However higher up it was quite dry and pleasant and the path alongside the boundary fence became quite distinct.
A feature of the ascent was an unusally prolific crop of arctic cloudberries, conspicuosly red amongst the heather. The redness of course implies immaturity for these unusual berries start life in this state which implies readiness to eat to the eye more used to rasberry or strawberry. The cloudberry turns yellow as it ripens and is then quite palatable to humans although rather lacking in interesting flavour.
The top of The Buck is crowned by a mini tor capped by a trig point. As we arrived a heavy shower began, driven on a strong and bitterly cold west wind, so we were not tempted to linger and returned by the same route.
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