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3C - LOCH QUOICH NE

                6.6 miles      1110 m

Start                           Monday      00.24
Spidean Mialach                           02.52
Gleouriach                                     04.00
Finish                                              04.40

Time:     Scheduled   2.12      Actual   4.16

Graeme writes:

It doesn't look far on the map just 8 or so of those kilometre squares. However the ascent route seems littered with scattered crags and wiggly contours, all right I suppose on a clear afternoon but that's not how I remember it. It all seemed so intensely horrible at the time that my mind really shut out all thoughts of running, the relay, Steve at the end of the leg or anything for that matter other than my survival at that moment. It was an immense learning experience, one you can only appreciate having been there on your own and yet one I don't wish to repeat. Being my first leg of the relay only emphasised the experience and although some of the next few nights to come were “not nice” they weren't evil like this one.

I'd arranged to shift the changeover from 090062 path junction to 098069 path junction to save Ross from an unnecessary run up the hill which seemed sensible, but had I been where planned and on the mapped path I might have found the ascent route much easier.

As it was I snuggled down amongst the heather next to the path in my sleeping bag and bivvy bag under darkening cloud shifting skies not really knowing whether I would be there for 1 hour or 4 hours. It turned out to be 4 hours and every one of deteriorating weather, although nonetheless I had a pleasant sleep and was aware I had been dreaming far, far away.

I awoke suddenly, startled by my name being shouted and flashing torchlights. No time was wasted, Ross and company nabbed my cosy sleeping bags and plunged off into the darkness leaving me alone, the rain battering on my jacket and thick mist whipping over the heathery tussocks. It was pitch black and I had an ominous feeling inside me in contrast to Ross's apparent joyousness at having found me and completed his leg.

Tentatively I moved off, stumbling a few steps like a child learning to walk for the first time. Progress was slow for, shining the beam forward more than a few metres proved fruitless since the mist was so thick. I imagined the horror I'd feel if my beam had picked out the toes of a pair of huge walking boots and had to shine gradually upwards to reveal the face and body of, well whatever might be prowling around at that time of night in that sort of weather, NO, surely it would never happen.

In places I lost the path and had to retrace my steps. At times like this I switched off my torch to see – nothing. I might as well have been in a small enclosed room, a box or even a coffin. I pondered the idea of going back, admitting defeat, admitting I was wrong for the relay, saying I'd bitten off more than I could chew, dropping out, going home in disgrace, a failure. I was thinking the unthinkable and anyway Ross and co would be miles away by now cruising down to the Cluanie Inn by bike or possibly in the comfort of the mothership sleeping soundly unaware of my weak minded predicament. I had to go on, into the unknown.

On finding the angled left hand path junction of the River Loyne glen floor I breathed easier for it was more sheltered and the mist wasn't so thick and I had a friend, running water. I was temporarily safe. Just find the south westerly path marked on the map and it would be a good starting point for the ascent I thought, but I couldn't. I could wait for daylight I thought, or simply proceed eastwards to Alltbeithe and admit to Steve I'd cheated, I could always do it later. I even had the outrageous idea of pretending I'd been over the hills, for who would know, but my guilty conscience would never live with that.

Instead I just took a bearing plodding upwards through the sodden squelch into the misty unknown. I imagined I was going to latch onto a well used ridge or even find a path but all I encountered were impenetrable crags which had to be rounded and I was soon just going in a general up direction. I stopped often trying to be something I wasn't, a mountain map expert. One minute convincing myself I was exactly here or there, the next minute it being obvious I wasn't. I listened for the rush of waterfalls but in a blowing wind their noise seemed to continually move.

The hollow clackety clack of hooves on rock brought my senses and neck hair to attention. In the direct beam of my torch I picked out a stag, not far away and obviously as startled as myself. Deer seem to look at you as though they are not seeing you properly, maybe their eyesight isn't up to much.

I picked my way forever upwards, one minute on rock, the next through oozing slop, aware I was nearing one of the great rocky bowls which radiate from the north side of Spidean Mialach as it was becoming more sheltered but also colder. Although not aware of it daylight must have been creeping in as I could vaguely see snow patches high above me and yet I couldn't work out where I was exactly. Not liking the idea of veering to the left or right into what were apparently treacherous looking cliffs I zig zagged past the snow clambering carefully over large rock blocks convincing myself there was a way up and to my immense relief there was, emerging almost suddenly within a few steps over the corrie lip and into strong summit plateau winds. To my amazement, only a few metres to my left I spotted a cairn and a short spell scouting around convinced me I had gained my first Munro of the relay.

To further enlighten me I was also aware of daylight which seemed to appear rapidly like a long lost companion, although admittedly one who had deserted me when needed. It felt like an unexpected new lease of life having just emerged from the dark bowels of the mountain. I was relieved to say the least.

My spirits were further lifted when on arriving at the col on the way to Gleouriach I caught fleeting glimpses of Loch Quoich which made me rather chuffed to be alive. Despite the weather still being miserable with mist, wind and rain, relatively speaking it couldn't have been better and I even jogged short sections of the remaining leg. There seemed to be an amazing amount of early morning bird song even on high mountain tops, something I found in common with other night time/ early morning legs later on.

When waking Steve from his midgy ridden sleeping hollow near Alltbeithe I was filled with an immense feeling of not having let the team down no matter how long I'd taken, and just glad I'd come through the night time hill oddessey without physical injury or navigational disaster. The experience certainly made me more wary over the next few days. As it turned out I hadn't taken overly long on top of my 2 hour night allowance expecially as I had an extra 2 km to begin with. I would like to return to the area in good weather to see if I could piece together the ground I'd covered during that awful night.

From Alltbeithe I bumped along the track on bicycle at my leisure out to the bridge at Loch Quoich to wake Mark and Ifor from their early morning slumber in the car and van. Ifor and I then took the van to the Kinlochhourn road end which I wouldn't recommend doing since there's no room for error at the turning point, you simply fall off the wall into the sea.

Peaks done   24     Hours elapsed   21     Peaks to do   253

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