This is a truly remote location, you drive along bleak moorland with no signs of any habitation at all for miles. Eventually the road drops steeply into the beginning of Glen Brittle and there are some forestry commission parking areas and a few cars. Not for us though and we continue on the road - an altercation with a 4x4 driver in a hurry who was NOT going to reverse - he just had to wait for me to do so, very slowly as it happened - he whirled past at speed and without a friendly wave!
Eventually we drive around the final corner and park up with a view out over the sea and the islands. Get the walking boots on and set off - there is only one way and that is up. The guidebook says 1,800 ft but omits to mention the gradient - and we are starting from sea level.
We manage quite a good pace with frequent stops for taking on water and have the paths to ourselves. There were plenty of tents in the campsite (which doesn't share its toilet facilities and has a code lock on the doors) but very few people are out and about. The clouds hovering on the horizon may be one of the reasons. I did spot what I thought was a scarecrow placed on the shore but it moved and proved me wrong. (More of scarecrows later)
We carry on ever upwards and can see our path far ahead of us - it looks even steeper up there. This theory was proved to be right as we left the path junction needed on the return leg and entered the mountain proper. The path winds its way between huge boulders, over many gullies where there would normally be raging torrents and over what would be a particularly nasty river bed, complete with rockfall and slippy stones, in wetter times. We now hit a dilemma - do we go straight up the middle of a rock face, clambering up and over large boulders and chancing the loose stuff; or do we stay left, hug the cliff face and try a bit of scrambling. Should mention that I am flagging slightly at this stage and have slackened my pace completely; Gary still has breath enough to speak!
We go for the left-hand scramble and, although steep and unrelenting, it is a good way over the obstacles. Finally we pull ourselves over the lip of the small lochan and enjoy the view that makes it all worthwhile. We can see South Uist on the horizon, the islands of Rhum, Eigg and another small one and the mainland in the other direction.
Up above us looms the Black Cuillin ridge which runs for over 11 miles, is very jagged, with no escape route and no water source - so carry what you need and be prepared to be scared. .The famous Innaccesible Pinnacle (Inn Pinn) is up above us somewehere
Not for us today (or probably ever) so we find a nice sheltered spot for lunch and the rain arrives. We do get some respite and take some photographic evidence that we were here.
The next trick is to get back down safely - easier said than done when the earth is constantly moving under your feet. At least we have left our jeans at home, unlike the chap that heaves himself into view as we are setting off. At the far right of the cirque is a feature known as the Great Stone Shute - a huge fan of scree that takes the brave walker up through a breach in the cliffs to the ridge, 1,500 ft above. As we prepare to leave, we spot one such walker slipping and sliding down said chute (we can also hear him as hundreds of small stones are disturbed and roll down the almost sheer hillside)
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| path up/down scree |
We decide to go for the rock cleft in descent as I am not good at scrambling downhill. The rain is making the rocks quite slippy now but we make it safely. We meet a party of four plus doberman wearing its own raincoat looking weary on their way up. At the junction of paths, we turn right and follow a relatively gentle path that descends beside a loch then follows a river to the road. There is one final treat in store; a stunning (even in dry weather) waterfall that drops at least 100ft into a crystal clear turquoise pool. I manage to take one photo before the rain returns with a vengeance. Initial rating was 4/10 until we dropped below it and saw the distance it dropped. In winter this would be magnificent and well worth the climb from the road. Regrade it to 6/10 today with potential to make 10/10.
The final mile or so to the car is along the road so no trip hazards just the driving rain. Nice to see the warm, dry car waiting for us - dry clothes too. Final cup of coffee before we head back south. The mountains have disappeared in the clouds and the rain is sweeping across the glen. We are very pleased that we are heading home to an Aga-warmed house with showers, hot food and good wine.
Later, suitably cleaned up and with the washing on; we try and eat out on the deck but finally the midges put in an appearance - there is no wind, the rain has stopped so they hover just over and around our heads. No bites to report just the irritating feeling that they are there and could bite at any moment.
Of scarecrows - there is a scarecrow trail on the Minginish Peninsula (take a look at a map of Skye and you will have the answer to the question - why so many peninsulas?) Every house seems to have made and dressed at least one scarecrow in their own particular style. We have seen old scarecrows on walking frames, scarecrows in saris, life jackets, pirate attire, old sea dogs as well as Elvis and one that was flying in the wind. There are literally hundreds and they are truly brilliant. Every bus shelter has its own scarecrow. We will try and find out the reason and the rationale though I suspect it just happens each year. We saw one in Glen Brittle but otherwise they are located along just one road. I particularly like the disco scarecrow and the climbing scarecrow complete with harness and ropes.
Tomorrow is back to plot hunting in the north west of the island. We should then be able to draw up the true shortlist.
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