10B - GLEN LOCHAY HEAD
Beinn Heasgarnich from Creag Mhor. Photo tms.nickbramhall.com
10.3 miles 1720 metres
Start Wednesday 20.32
Beinn Heasgarnich 21.38
Creag Mhor 22.26
Ben Challum 23.31
Finish Thursday 00.12
Squares: yellow - changeovers. Circles summits: green - this leg, purple - to do. Photo Colin Matheson
Time: Estimated 3.38 Actual 3.40
The Magical Misty Tour.
After a fine but close day, I walked up Auch Gleann in a gathering storm. The rain started just before I was ready to put up the tent, and thunderclaps resounded shortly after I was in it.
I was expecting a long stay as I did not fancy Craig would move very fast with his swollen ankle. His shout came as a complete surprise, I darted out of the tent and screamed back in joy at seeing him so soon and quite a sight he made descending so fast that I abandoned my initial idea to pack up the tent.
Craig handed me the baton moreorless simultaneously with a real downpour, and within seconds my tee-shirt was a sodden mess inside my unzipped goretex jacket. The bottom half then got a soaking as I waded the corner of the loch to save distance. I waved at three fishermen as I passed., the first people I'd seen during the relay, then I replaced the tee-shirt with a helly hansen as soon as I was out of sight.
I hit the ridge to a strong cold cross wind and the thickest of fogs. Although the climb to the top was straightforward the continuing ridge was far from it. Virtually flat on the map, it was covered in bumps which appeared without warning – never could I see more than two paces ahead. The ridge contained a couple of marked bends which I had to negotiate using dead reckoning. It was the most exciting navigation I have had for years, and I had a great thrill as it became clear that I was descending the distinct west ridge with my watch beeping that I was now due on the summit long departed. Throughout this time the wind had blown at right angles across the ridge regardless of direction, a feature that continued throughout the leg with a consistency I'd never met before.
I had been hoping that the unknown northern crags of Creag Mhor would be reached in daylight. This was now happening, although with such low visibility as to make little difference. At one point, had it been dark I guess that I would have climbed up a gully, when in the dim light I spotted a traverse of a crag to grass. On passing the top of the gully I was glad I had not gone up that way! The rest of the crags passed in a vaguely looming way without posing any obstacle, and the summit arrived ten minutes ahead of schedule.
The next ridge was potentially even harder than Beinn Heasgarnich, with a gentle continuous curve, but without a narrow ridge descent I was able to cut off at a rather less precise point, and I guessed correctly that I would come out of the cloud before the next col.
A remarkably easy climb took me over the intervening ridge, then I was able to ignore the ground and follow the compass on the rough descent to the next col. As the navigational difficulties were now over I suddenly felt the accumulated tiredness on the 1500 foot climb up Beinn Challum. I had thought that the crags on the map might cause a problem, but in the event almost the whole way was grass, and I was 13 minutes up on schedule at the top.
The descent was horrible. All I had to do was follow the compass needle. The problem was that it was now truly dark, and only by holding my torch near my ankles and bending double could I see the ground on which the next foot would go. Somehow this grassy hill seemed to be 50% slippery rock slabs which deposited me on my bum on the few injudicious occasions I stepped on them. It seemed to go on forever before I suddenly burst out of the cloud and was able at last to jog down past some gigantic boulders to the glen floor.
My shouts for Graeme seemed to echo all around and I wondered how he was not roused, until I got down to the noisy river where my shouts were immediately swallowed up. It was going to be hard to locate the stream junction where Graeme was supposed to be waiting, and I couldn't help wondering if he would be in the right place himself. I came to what I was sure was right and screamed “Graeme”. A head suddenly appeared in my torch beam and we had met. I held him up to talk about the wind and the thick fog, and talked him through the techniques required for his leg.
He set off at a good speed whilst I wandered off down the glen. Some warning Graeme given me about unmapped roads prevented me from wandering too far away from the river. Eventually I found the bike and had a most exciting ride, first with the torch in my mouth, then as the track quality improved, in the dark. It was quite exciting as I would find myself suddenly accelerating down an unexpected steep slope.
Although it was exciting it was also tense and tiring, so I was mighty glad to see the last of many gates with the van parked beyond. Poor Steve found sleep difficult even though I drove very slowly. It was still fast enough to deposit Steve and mattress upside down when a stag jumped out in front of me.
What a fantastic experience the whole section was.
Peaks done 79 Hours elapsed 89 Peaks to do 198
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