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| From the road above Tongue Ralph spots an amazing silhouette of the Sutherland peaks. |
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NOW, in my mid fifties, I can be up and down Skiddaw in 75 minutes." So writes a local vicar in the English lake District who does a bit of fell running as a hobby.
Skiddaw is an easy, rounded, 3000ft hill just behind Keswick, I tried his route by Carl Side and it took me nearer three hours, moreover, I tripped and went flying on the way down, scarting the knees. Even though it was early in the morning, misty and raining with a hint of sleet on top, many others were heading upwards as I jogged down.
Every Lake District hill is covered in paths which swarm with people on a fine day. The lakeside walks round Grasmere and Rydal could only be described as crowded while the stream of people ascending Loughrigg Fell resembled a queue. One morning I went up Helvellyn, a very popular peak. The path I first took 45 years ago had become so badly eroded by tens of thousands of boots it needed to be remade into what is, in effect, a long flight of rocky steps; I started counting when halfway up and gave up at 1000. It certainly made the climb easy, I was up in less than an hour-and-a-half, a lovely early morning with sun and drifting mist and already other walkers up on the ridges.
Wainwright’s famous walking guides describe routes, usually several, up every hill. An oddity is that what would be one peak in Scotland is split into half-a-dozen or so separate mountains by Wainwright. Jogging a different route down the mountain, I crossed another three very minor bumps and so bagged four "Wainwrights". Back at the car by 11am, the lay-by and all the car parks were full, walkers heading upwards.
In Sutherland, Ben Loyal is one of the busier peaks. On a fine weekend in the summer you may well meet one or two others near the main summit. Wainwright would have split the peak into 10 mountains, and one of the best hill walks locally is to cross all these 10 tops in one day. On most of them, you are as likely to meet another human being as you are a Martian.
It can be a disappointing climb, much of it a long, boggy walk, if you just take the direct route from Loch Loyal to the main top; the real drama in the peak lies in the towering crags to the west. To explore all these takes a full day. On a magnificent November morning of mild, clear air and unbroken sunshine, I set off from Loch Loyal hoping to do the 10 tops. The day was more summery than most we saw in July and August, but the low sun, the orange moors and most of all the roaring of stags in rut all shouted autumn!
The three outlying peaks, all steep and conical, are the hardest to take in – Cnoc nan Cuilean, Sgor Fhionnaich and Ben Hiel. My route is to head for the first of these from Lettermore, make a long traverse round the southern end of the main ridge to reach Sgor Fhionnaich then cross all the other tops and finish with Ben Hiel. Almost all rough, pathless going with some tricky route finding, in complete contrast to the well-tramped Lakeland fells!
It took over an hour to gain that first top, 1500ft above Loch Loyal. Well isolated from the main ridge, the view across the lochan-strewn wilds of Sutherland is almost as good as from the summit. Every single peak from Morven to Foinaven to the hills east and south of Ullapool, even the cliffs and moors of distant Hoy, were sharp and clear under the low sun with only a few wisps of high cloud. To the west, Lochan na Beiste nestles in a hollow below the gently rising slopes of Carn Tional, here several hundred deer were gathered; the stags, each with its own harem of hinds, roaring challenges to each other.
The herds of deer were right in my path, they moved off as I jogged down to the col, first northwards and then, as I climbed the slopes of Carn an Tionail, the hinds and stags sprinted across the hillside above to re-group half a mile or so to the west. All day long I would hear the roars of stags and come across small groups of deer; they’d move off but never go far.
A quad-bike track heading for Carn an Tionail helped for a short distance, it was almost hot in the sun, I’d brought long johns but was comfortable in shorts, even on the summit ridge – this in November! My route climbed to the obvious rocky outcrop of An Creagan at 1800 feet then descended round the western flank of Carn an Tionail to the rarely visited Loch Fhionnaich in a deep cleft between the 700ft cliffs of Sgor a’Chleirich and huge piled boulders on the opposite slope.
An easy climb then led to the eyrie of Sgor Fhionnaich. The four western peaks give Ben Loyal its dramatic aspect, each with near-vertical crags plunging to the glen far below. Few who climb the mountain actually visit these tops, each requires some scrambling and careful route finding to attain a spectacular view which makes you feel much higher than you are.
East from Sgor Fhionnaich is a very steep descent, perhaps 60 degree grass and heather, leading into a maze of huge boulders piled on the slope unlike anything I know anywhere else. Many of these are the size of houses, with caves underneath which could shelter a small army.
Pick your way down carefully, there are hidden drops into deep holes! A narrow, sandy beach at the north end of Loch Fhionnaich, under beetling cliffs, is one of my favourite spots, then follows a steep and awkward climb in between the crags with one scramble up a little gully I never really like. Once past this bad step, easy but steep grass leads to Sgor a’Chleirich and, on a day like this, you are back on top of the world.
FOR the next hour or two the Kyle and village of Tongue, far below and worlds away, dominated the view northwards. It was too good a day to rush, I’d just have to miss the last peak, Ben Hiel. Instead, I took my time exploring all the tops along the main ridge, from Carn an Tionail to Sgur Chaonnasaid.
The views of sea, mountain, loch and moor, lit by the low November sun, were simply stunning. There is only one easy route, from the north, to the rocky castle which constitutes the main summit, if it’s not an easy scramble you’ve gone the wrong way! Another of the western tops, Sgurr a Bhatain, is well worth a careful exploration, pick your way down through granite crags where small pools lie in tiny rock basins, to the last top poised high above the moors leading to Kinloch. The shadow of the mountain was already encroaching across the valley, the derelict croft of Cunside enjoying its last sun for the day.
The croaking of ptarmigan drifted up from the corrie as I made my way round the hillside to perhaps the most dramatic top of all, Sgur Chaonnasaid, with Tongue and the Kyle seemingly thousands of feet below the northernmost rock pinnacle. To be down at the road before dark I’d have to descend, sadly into the shadowed side of the mountain, though with one last brief climb into sunlight on the very top of the ninth peak, Creag Riabhach. Then down, into the shade, watching the last of the sun glowing on Ben Stumanadh across Loch Loyal as the shadows climbed higher and grew ever longer over the lochs and russet moors stretching into the empty distance of the Griams and Morven. Another quad-bike track materialised, very wet and slippery but saving the need to think about route finding for the last couple of miles back to the car as the sun set.
A fell runner could, I reckon, do the 10 tops in three hours. It had taken me nearly eight, without including Ben Hiel. I’d seen nobody all day, no other cars were parked, most of the route had been pathless. That’s the north-west Highlands compared with the overcrowded hills of north-west England. And the day had one last spectacle in store from the road above Tongue – an amazing silhouette of the Sutherland peaks arrayed against a sunset sky of yellow and pink.
