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This is the first time in 5 visits to the Skye I have actually seen the Cuillin, so that was worth it alone! That was except for the day 10 years ago when I decided to do Blaven as the Cuillin were clagged and it turned into a clear day – ever felt you’ve turned up for the wrong party? Read More...
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A number of reasons for writing up this one…
- I hadn’t written a report for any previous meet and was feeling a bit guilty (although I have shared route details, which ticks were done - and found on legs, tales of angst fuelled bravado, juicy gossip, etc. on the number of occasions I’ve been asked!)
- This is the first time in 5 visits to the Skye I have actually seen the Cuillin, so that was worth it alone! That was except for the day 10 years ago when I decided to do Blaven as the Cuillin were clagged and it turned into a clear day – ever felt you’ve turned up for the wrong party?
- Most importantly – I somehow acquired a voucher for a discounted Citylink journey. £5 return anywhere in Scotland - Oh, happy student days are here again!
Just to set the tone, and to make sure you’re riveted already, here is an early snapshot to whet your appetite.
Coire Ghrunnda
I actually had 2 vouchers, so made a few half hearted attempts to convince one or two others if they fancied a cheapo trip on a bus. The idea of 7 hours on a bus was somewhat off-putting, even though that could have been countered by the fact you could drink a carry out which you can’t (normally) do driving a car. Anyway, I decided to go Han Solo on the last weekend in June. This seemed like a fine time to try to utilise the available daylight, and the risk of rain was reduced (if that’s possible on Skye). I was gripped by “ex-student” fever by the time I booked the bus – you had to book the exact bus you wanted, no flexibility – and had decided I would go from Dunblane to the Slig. Then I would camp at the Slig, and worry about what I would do there as the time neared. The bus was Friday afternoon, returning Sunday afternoon, which also meant I only had to take a half day off work on the Friday. I must have been mad!!
As the time neared, I thought I would try to do a reccy of the Cuillin, as the weather forecast was pretty good for the Saturday. Ross and I have talked for years about the full thing in a one-er, even going as far as taking the bikes up one year with the intention of going for it. There had also been talk of a ridge assault at the planned meet which was weathered off this year. I think I had managed to persuade a posse of 8 intrepid adventurers for that one – hope they’re all still willing next time. I must admit, the idea of bivvying out on the Cuillin and rising at dawn to get torn into the ridge was (and still is) a fantastic prospect.
This changed my plan a wee bit, but in the best student tradition, the idea of paying £3.50 a night at the Glenbrittle hut sounded like a good budget option, so I phoned to book a place for the 2 nights. I was advised that Aylesbury M.C. were in on the Friday night, but there were spaces on Saturday so that wasn’t a problem. It was suggested I just turn up, explain my situation, and I’d probably get in, as the chances are some of the Aylesbury Club would have gone home as they’d been there for a week. Sounded good!
The big day
The bus trip involved a pick up in Dunblane, to Stirling, then change at Glasgow, then no more changes (although a 20 minute stop in the Fort) until Portree. Andy W. will tell you all the times if you’re really interested. Everything went well timewise to the Fort, although a strange smell / smoke emanating from the undercarriage and filling the bus was slightly disconcerting! Every now and then, the smell was followed by exasperated exclamations from the driver that “that f**in’ clutch – I told them 6 weeks ago it was away!”, and he’d open his window (to let more smoke in). The clutch finally expired at Little Chef, Spean Bridge…
The bus was evacuated amid heap big smoke – the signals must have been picked up and another one arrived from the Fort about half an hour later. Why they couldn’t change at the Fort when we’d just stopped there, I’ll never know. Anyway, the driver explained he’d get us all there on time (although he never actually specified where). The new bus stank of p*ss. Andy is an expert on Scottish public transport, and had told many horror tales of the state of the toilets on Citylink coaches. This was no exception, but even with the toilet door closed, this was absolutely terrible. I had to keep reminding myself how much I had paid, occasionally cursing those who’d “wisely” chosen not to take up my offer. How could they miss this?
I arrived at about 8.50pm (8 mins. early if I remember – bloody good driver, that). Next – how to get to Glenbrittle. I wandered over to the Hotel, and just as I was about to enter, a middle aged couple came out. “Don’t suppose your going down Glenbrittle way?”, I asked. Maybe they took pity on me, as they were actually staying in Carbost, but they gave me lift all the way to the hut. My God…the Cuillin in the most fantastic, clear, conditions. Longest day and all that – it was just like afternoon, and utterly breathtaking. Bruach na Frithe to Sgurr a’Mhaidaidh has probably never looked better – I wouldn’t know of course! I cursed myself for the fact my camera was in the sack in the boot.
I was met at the club hut by 2 guys from Aylesbury, who were the last stragglers about to head to the Carbost Inn – did I want a lift? I quickly dumped the gear, and relived my most recent experience in reverse. The hut caretakers were also down the pub, so I felt I’d better keep up appearances on behalf of O.M.C. To cut a long story short, I kind of forgot it was their last night and my first. I left the pub at 2.15am – somebody drove down Glenbrittle – and I felt a bit “merry”. Great start, Dave!
I got up at 6am. There was a wee bit of cloud at 700 m., but that was the forecast, as was it would be clear by late morning. Needless to say, I was needing my Isotonic drink, and any other rehydrating substances. By the time I felt human enough, it was about 9am when I left. The “one-er” was obviously off! It took me 3 ½ hours to get to Gars-bheinn, and I’d drank about half my water. All the tales about water drops and what not started to come flooding back (no pun intended). I made good time to reach Sgurr Nan Eag, and the cloud was lifting fast so felt good about maybe reaching the Inn Pinn.
Gars-bheinn from Sgurr Nan Eag
Finding the summit of Sgurr Dubh Mor proved difficult, and I ended up out towards Sgurr Dubh Beag before I knew it. Again, the stories about route finding started to haunt me. I probably added an unnecessary hour on to the trip because of that.
Sgurr Mic Connich skyline
At this point, I happened to bump into 4 Aussies with similar intentions to me. We overtook each other a few times on route to the TD gap. I had packed some slings (to make a dulfer), a rope and a couple of screw gates to keep it light, and didn’t really intend to climb the “hard” side of the TD gap. Unfortunately, the Aussies beat me to the abseil point, so again I lost time (and ended up showing a couple of them how to ab.!) Their brave leader offered to belay me if I wanted to lead it, but we never had much of a rack between us, and I kind of felt I would get dragged into this team of 4, so thanked him and bailed out west.
TD Gap from the West
I pressed on to Sgurr Alasdair – again route finding proving difficult, even in glorious sunshine – and concluded there that with no water by now, the Inn Pinn was probably too ambitious. I think it was about 4.45pm. I decided to bail out down the infamous stone shoot. Goodness me (or words to that effect) – that was hard! 2 hours to get to the lochan at the top of Coire Lagan.
Spot the Quoich!
Storer has described the huge boulders at this lochan as something akin to hippopotami. I couldn’t disagree! As I drank, I dipped my now white boots in the lochan – they set like concrete! And boy, did they weigh a ton coming down to Glenbrittle! They were duly binned when I got to the hut at 7.45pm.
So – not a bad day, considering the hangover. In hindsight, I could have left earlier and maybe made more of the daylight, but the water factor was a massive influence on my decision. Water drops certainly seem like the answer. I bumped into one guy who’d done the full ridge some years earlier – although he was saved at the Inn Pinn by some climbers who gave him a 2 litre top up - not bad if you can get it! Otherwise, I can’t think of a better way to stay hydrated – until we can start to recycle that is. Maybe someone was experimenting with that notion in the bus toilet.
I had a great dinner of cheesy scrambled eggs and super noodles (just to continue the student theme) and managed to blag a lift to the Slig the next morning to catch my bus. Thankfully, this one got there in one piece…
Dave Monteith
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