We followed the rather attractive stream until we got a glimpse of Lochan Beinn Damhain and then we balanced across the burn on boulders and took to the ill-defined north-east ridge. The terrain was typical of this area, a mixture of bog and little crags, mixed on this occasion with patches of soft snow. There were several ups and downs before an abrupt steepening on which the snow could not be avoided. Although it was exceedingly soft the angle made us feel that we had been a bit foolish leaving the ice axes in the car, however we reached the summit cairn without mishap.
Another retiring hill, the Munro Beinn Bhuidhe, is well seen from here as is the northern side of the so called Arrochar alps with Ben Vorlich very close at hand. Beinn Ime was the most striking hill today however, carrying a lot more snow than its lower neighbours.
We descended by the much gentler south-east ridge, avoiding all the snow and then following the easy eastern shore of Lochan Beinn Damhain to rejoin our upward route.
[Ben Vorlich and Ben Vane from the summit]
[Ben Vane, Beinn Ime, Beinn Luibhean, Ben Donich, Beinn an Lochain, Binnein an Fhidhleir]
The right of way from Ballachuilish to Glen Creran is a path which we had used at least twice before, both as a through route and as an approach to the Corbett, Fraochaidh, another little known hill which was looking particularly striking today with a crown of corniced snow. The path is well defined up Gleann an Fhiodh but we lost its course as soon as we had crossed the River Laroch which suggested that it is perhaps now rarely used. We just went straight up onto the ridge of Sgorr a'Choise which soon became well defined with old fence posts to follow and just the suspicion of a path in the rockier sections. The top of the hill is quite narrow and craggy with views straight down to Ballachulish from where its steep northern face is in fact well seen, although perhaps seldom recognized. Our map gave no hint of the very steep drop from the summit onto the grassy south-east ridge, which gave us pause for thought and required some cautious zigzagging made a little more awkward than usual by a steep snow gully amongst the crags.
Meall Mor is another hill which is often seen but rarely ascended or, I suspect, even noticed by those enjoying the more dramatic summits of Glencoe. As one drives down the glen and leaves behind the narrowest section with the towering cliffs of the Aonach Eagach and the bold rocky ridges of the Three Sisters, the slopes of Meall Mor appear straight ahead, grassy and uninteresting but forbiddingly steep. A track runs along below this steep east side of the hill, used perhaps by Munro-baggers en route for Sgor na h-Ulaidh or even by those ascending Meall Lighiche, a relatively recent, and somewhat boring, addition to the Corbetts.
Our route onto Meall Mor by the south ridge took advantage of the gentlest contours which this hill has to offer. Keeping straight up the little craggy bits provided only the mildest of scrambling to enliven this tedious ascent. Of much greater interest than these immediate grassy surroundings were the views which opened up as we gained height. Until now the highest hills had kept their summits well hidden in the clouds. A sudden clearance eastwards revealed sensational glimpses of the snowy ridges of Bidean nam Bian. Unfortunately the promise of what must be one of the finest viewpoints for this splendid mountain remained unfulfilled. The clouds quickly dropped down again and the summit did not reappear. Due south a dramatic bird's eye view of the glen of the Allt na Muidhe illuminated by sunshine was backed by Sgor na h-Ulaidh, shrouded in stormy clouds.
Sgor na h-Ulaidh, although a Munro, shares with its lower neighbours hereabouts a certain obscurity, being hidden behind the far more imposing mountains which lie directly above Glencoe. The rare occasions when I see this mountain are moments of solemn reflection for me because my first attempt to scale it came so close to disaster. Everyone who has walked a great deal in the mountains has such moments to look back on perhaps; moments of fear or foolishness which they would rather forget. It is wiser however not to forget completely. Recollection may help to avoid not only making the same mistake again but also the temptation to condemn those whose foolishness has had a less fortunate outcome.
The south ridge of Meall Mor does not lead directly to the summit but runs up onto the very flat west ridge. Beyond a small drop this ridge turns northwards and becomes quite narrow above a long low western cliff not indicated on the map. We strolled beyond the summit cairn to get the view down into Glencoe with the serrated ridge of the Aonach Eagach above, half glimpsed through swirling mist. Only westwards did the mist clear completely, revealing the beautifully corniced ridges of Beinn a' Bheithir.
Another surprise perhaps is that, so close to the tourist honeypot of Glencoe, the whole of the western side of this hill has sunk under a sea of conifers, apparently without protest. The forest flows right over the north-west ridge, apparently blocking any direct descent towards Ballachulish, but from the summit we thought that we could spot a way through the trees using firebreaks and decided to give this route a try. A certain amount of bashing through encroaching prickly trees was required but at last we reached the radio mast on the north top of this ridge which lay on the forest edge and gave superb evening views down Loch Leven with Sgurr na h-Eanchainne prominent. How rewarding it is, as one revisits the Highlands again and again, to recognize familiar mountains and remember the marvellous days one has enjoyed on them.
The descent from here was steep but easy, finishing through the old quarry which was really rather attractive with its two lakes and its multitude of gorse bushes, startlingly yellow against the stark black cliffs.
[Meall Mor from Sgorr a'Choise]
[Glencoe from Meall Mor]
[Fraochaidh, Sgorr a'Choise and Beinn a'Bheithir from Meall Mor]
[Loch Leven from the west ridge]
Parking is often a problem and our original plan to follow the forest track from Gledfield over various subsidiary bumps was, perhaps fortunately, thwarted by lack of it. The closer approach from Gruinards Lodge was almost abandoned for the same reason but one kilometre westwards we managed to deposit the vehicle and set out in gentle but persistently falling snow. This track emerges very vaguely from the forest but soon becomes clear as it leads straight up the hill and then undulates across a boggy area, becoming very boggy itself in places. As it drops towards the Allt a' Ghlinne however it becomes an exceedingly pleasant well engineered track, dropping only enough to reach a good crossing point from which a sheep track continues for some distance up towards the mountain. It petered out in bog, heather and soft snow.
The going quickly became dreadful with every step a gamble. We fell into peat hags and holes in the heather as we struggled onto the vague north ridge of the mountain. As the slopes steepened the snow became deeper and, apart from some apprehension of avalanche, less hazardous. As the map indicated the highest ground lay eastwards and the trig point was soon located. Despite the mist we could see that the true summit lay on top of a large block of rock a short distance eastwards and from there we could vaguely make out the slightly lower eastern top Carn Bhrain beyond.
We returned by exactly the same route, avoiding only those spots where we had fallen into holes on the way up. The snow was just turning to rain as we emerged back on the road, quite content with our expedition for the beauty of the immediate snowy hillside had amply compensated for the lack of distant views.
Rowland had done both of them long before we acquired Dawson's tables so I set out on this one alone, using the good track to Lone which continues as a Land Rover track right to Bealach na Feithe where it was still easy to trace despite its cover of deep soft snow. As I approached this bealach the landscape looked very uninviting indeed with dreary slopes of rock and snow running up into grey and dismal mist. The prospect of leaving the good track to venture trackless into this sort of terrain filled me with apprehension heightened by a strong and bitter east wind. I considered turning down at the col but the mist rose ahead of me and encouraged me up onto the treacherously soft snow slopes above. I struggled up, thigh deep in places and thinking of avalanches before gaining the flat ridge above.
Now I was in the mist and virtually in whiteout conditions. No longer reluctant to walk up into the gloom I was instead mesmerised with delight in this unexpectedly white world but although the map showed the ridge to be quite broad I was still nervous of cornices and proceeded up from one tiny exposed rock to another. At one point there were no rocks visible at all. I took a back bearing for descent, in case my footprints were obliterated by the wind, and then proceeded cautiously upwards. To my relief a few more rocks appeared and then I was conscious of dropping. I turned sharply right towards some higher rocks and found that they comprised a small flat cairn.
How could I be sure that this was truly the summit? I wandered in various directions, all gently downwards, but did not dare to venture far in case I walked over a cornice. Convinced at last that this was the highest point I started to retrace my steps down the ridge. I had gone no more than one hundred metres when the mist was suddenly swept away and I rushed back to the cairn, gratified to find that it was indeed the summit and overwhelmed by the sudden dramatic view of Arkle [picture] and glimpses of the totally white cone of Meall Horn from which the clouds seemed far more reluctant to clear. The descent was easy now, swinging a little more to the east to avoid the steepest slopes, I arrived back at the bealach and followed the track back down through rapidly receding snow. The rivers were in spate from the melting and a double fall, tumbling down from the slopes of Meallan Liath Coire Mhic Dhughaill, was particularly impressive. The stream splits into two falls and two branches which join the main river a hundred metres or so apart, a bifurcation not shown on the OS map.
The tops were swathed in mist when we set out and once we left the track to climb the broad north-west ridge of Meall an Fheur Loch visibility was very limited indeed. We kept as far as possible to the eastern edge for the map suggested that the top lay close to the steep eastern ecarpment. We reached a flat area covered not so much in snow as in ankle deep slush but by keeping the sharp drop just visible on our left arrived at what seemed like the summit cairn with a large upright stone embedded in it. We peered into the gloom westwards, wondering if any higher top lay there, but as the mist lifted a little were happily reassured that this was our summit.
Celebrations were in order for this was Rowland's number 111, the halfway point of the Grahams at that time with Ladylea Hill not yet promoted nor Beinn Talaidh demoted. Magnificent views began to open up to the north with Arkle, Foinaven and Meall Horn prominent [picture] but our second hill remained for the moment hidden in ominous clouds. As we descended to the north end of Loch Cul a' Mhill they gradually drew back to reveal the very snowy ridge of Meallan a' Chuail [picture].
The first steep step on the ridge was negotiated mainly on grass and rocky steps, avoiding a vast sweep of snow on the western flank. Ahead lay an almost totally white ridge with beautiful cornices above the eastern cliffs. A few isolated rocks marked a safe line away from the edge. It was quite steep, very deep and exceedingly soft so that it was not so much a matter of kicking steps as wallowing into them. [looking back down the ridge]
The summit cairn lies so close to the cliffs that it was overtopped by a ridge of windblown snow. Peeping over this bank of snow we could see the two corrie lakes far below, partially covered in ice, a truly spectacular sight [picture]. Even in summer this must be a splendid summit and indeed a splendid mountain. It makes a pair with the Corbett Beinn Leoid although oddly for such close neighbours their ridges lie at right angles.
On this lovely summit we were due for another celebration for this was my one hundredth Graham. The dramatic situation drove such thoughts out of my mind, yet I could hardly have chanced on a better hill for this landmark in my collection. Meallan a' Chuail fails by 12 metres to reach Corbett status yet seems just as fine a hill as its slightly higher neighbour.
We descended now towards Beinn Leoid, an easy slope although higher up it gave problems where the unavoidable snow patches were covering boulder fields and we kept falling through into holes. Our plan was to use the stalker's path northwards from this col, a track which we had used before for Beinn Leoid and remembered as an excellent path. It winds its way cunningly down through the cliffs but today, after only a few yards, it crossed a steep and frightening looking snow gully. Then it continued over very steep ground still covered with banked up snow.
We studied the map to seek an alternative route and decided to work our way round the south side of the mountain. After an awkward traverse above Loch Dubh a' Chuail, with more steep snow gullys forcing us down to lake level, we crossed the lower part of the south-east ridge and entered the magnificent eastern corrie with its two icy lochans. From here we were looking up at the black cliffs and white cornices, with the perilously perched summit cairn now seen from below [picture]. The corrie floor was beautiful too, very flat with melting ice running amongst the lichen encrusted rocks; a place to marvel at and to be truly glad of the hazardous snow slope which had driven us into this splendid and unfrequented spot.
We contoured high above Loch Iol-ghaoith, again having to circumvent snowy gullys, and instead of dropping to the peat hag ridden shores of Loch Cul a' Mhill worked our way up onto the ridge again to the cairn which marked the start of the track. The sky was turning stormy with shafts of sunlight giving both Beinn Leoid and Meallan a' Chuail a dramatic appearance as we took one last loving look back before the track dropped off the ridge for the easy descent to the car.
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