THE SADDLE
The Saddle photo Colin Matheson
12.2 miles 1275 metres
Start Sunday 00.04
The Saddle (cairn) 02.05
The Saddle (trig pt) 02.07
Sgurr na Sgine 02.52
Finish 03.37
Squares: green start, red finish. Circles are summits: green this leg, red done. Courtesy Colin Matheson
Time: Estimated 3.30 Actual 3.33
Alwyn writes:
A midnight start – semi dark and mild, no need for a torch, exept to occasionally check map. The scent of gorse hangs heavy in the night. A wide strath gradually narrows to a Himalaya-like gorge, with stony path cresting wooded spurs before tumbling to the wide upper valley of the Dubh Loch beyond. All runnable to the foot of the mountain.
A long, tussocky, peaty pull onto the south end of the Saddle summit ridge. Mountains loom dimly like ghostly galleons in a twilight sea. The Saddle ridge is tricky in the half light, the narrow trod snaking over its serrations, sometimes hanging over half-seen precipices, at other times wrapping over and round the grey rock towers. After the trig point and out and back to the cairn and a wide, arcing descent to the bealach to avoid screes below the summit. Climbing Sgurr na Sgine, I think the first cairn is the summit, and mistakenly start to descend too soon – five minutes lost.
A steady run off the ridge to pick up a superb stalkers' path to Kinlochhourn. A one-lane race track (all to myself at 3.00 am!,) hugging the hillside, weaving through the spurs and reentrants, a real bob sleigh run. One last pull over a small col, then swooping down and through the woods to Kinlochhourn, at 3.37 am.
Peaks done 23 time taken 1 day 1 hour peaks to go 254
As Alwyn was speeding down to Kinlochhourn, I was setting off in a cloud of midges about 24 hours after starting up Blaven, riding a bike for the first three miles up the rough track to Upper Glendessary. I had a huge pack with the clothing and food that John had packed, and was feeling very tired with no respectable sleep since Thursday night, and even that had been foreshortened.
I pushed open the bothy door just before seven, awakening the three lads sleeping there. Despite a raging thirst I failed to find the cooker John had packed, so I lay down and fell fast asleep. An hour later the others started getting up. We talked about our venture whilst they plied me with cups of tea.
I did not expect John until about midday, as the tops had appeared to be cloudfast overnight, and I was not expecting Alwyn to finish his 12 miles much before 4.30. In fact it had been clear over the Saddle, and he was very close to his three and a half hour schedule. John was an unknown quantity to me, but I felt that 8 hours for the Knoydart peaks was hard, and thought seven would be reasonable.
I had just been handed my nth mug of tea when “He's here” came from one of the lads. At once the door burst open and a very fresh looking John burst in.
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