Suilven in the far distance

Assynt, beginning of November? Barely recall it now, and if no-one else does, this fictitious rambling based on half remembered truths may just get away with it. Inchnadamph Lodge in November is a wonderful place, but hardly a secret amongst the Moray Mountaineers as 25 of the blighters descended mob-like to shatter the idyllic calm. With so many people out and about and your gentle author being so lazy, there can be little more illumination as to the deeds of that weekend than the production of the  barest list. However, Natacha, unlike most of us has taken the time and trouble to produce a splendid report and it is included here in all its glory.

 Here is a brief account of what Ray, Mark Richford and myself did at the weekend.[Soft Break] Saturday: Ray Harron and Natacha left the hostel at 7.30am and drove north, intending to bag corbetts Meall Horn and Arkle. They started their walk in beautiful and warm sunshine from the car park at Earachd. Fantastic light 3kms in allowed for a prolongued photographic session by Loch Stack. From Lone, a good track leads to the bealach Horn, 5kms away, but they decided to go up Meall Horn shortly before reaching the col by traversing the hillside in an easterly fashion. Colder and windier conditions greeted them on the summit ridge which was reached in 3 hours. Lunch followed and they soon retraced their steps back down to tackle Arkle. More broken and stony terrain however awaited them and slowed down their upwards progress. Increasingly spectacular views of Arkle’s corries and Fionaven led to more photograph taking. Arkle’s summit was reached following the narrow semi circular ridge and all of the daylight available was taken advantage of as they returned to their starting point by 5.00pm. A very good day. Sunday: Ray Harron, Mark Richford and Natacha were first to leave the hostel, making their way to the car park by Loch Awe. From there, they headed off in a north-westerly manner to reach the firm, stony and intermittently slabby ridge of Canisp. The views were maybe not as blessed by sunshine or quite as excellent as the MWIS forecast suggested nevertheless, a clear panorama of the Coigach hills could be seen all around. The wind picked up drastically by the time they got to about 700m but abated again at the top, where they stopped for lunch. Suilven stood there in all its majesty.They went back down the same way, thus completing a short but satisfying 4 hour day in improving weather.

Fortunately, literacy rates amongst the rest of the club are at about the level of a 14th Century Uzbeki village, and so dredging up some tales from the barely legible scrawls that are apparently ‘weekend meet reports’ shouldn’t take too long.

Andy Lawson (who obviously never works) was up early on the Friday wandering the hills with Beinn and then dragged the poor beast up Maovally on the Saturday. Haven’t seen them, but there are sure to be some stunning photographs taken by Andy.

Fiona, Alan, Dave, Ella and Drummond felt it would be sporting to go the completely wrong way up Ben More Coigach and Sgurr an Fhidhleir via Beinn Tarsuinn, eschewing good paths for a heathery bog-trot.

The view Westwards en-route to Sgurr an Fhidhleir

Claire, Jenny, Judith, Andy B, Simon and Illona made the glorious traverse from Cam Loch to Lochinver in fine weather. Any B and Simon putting the youngsters to shame (yes Illona, in this company you are indeed a youngster) and ascended fabulous Suilven. The comment from the low level wanderers that their day had “included a trip to the pie shop” may explain why they ran out of time for the peak.

Sue was not for heading to the hills this weekend and so took advantage of the wonderful coastline here with a ramble from Achiltibuie. (I once saw The Ramones play at the pub in Altandhu just up the coast. There really is everything in this part of the world)

Mark had a full day ascending Conival twice (to get the views) and Ben More Assynt. His report mentioned ‘company’, but not who. There is nothing wrong with the Voices Mark. The Voices are good.

Graeme M and Donnie, ever the athletes scampered over Ben More Assynt and Conival. Graeme, ascending with grace and ease up the ridge, leaving Donnie to grovel about in a slippery wet gulley (so he says Donnie). One casualty of the day was Graeme’s boot. It has seen its last hill and surely a case of athlete’s foot.

Bob and Colin, who are still under investigation from the Committee for ‘non-mountaineering activities’ once again took to the water and circumnavigated (possibly not completely) Oldany Island. Much wildlife and a little too much swell were encountered as the boys enjoyed a fine paddle.

Far worse though, than these oceanic pursuits was the wreckless behaviour of our esteemed President and three foolish lackeys who took it upon themselves, on a lovely day it must be added, to descend into the bowels of the earth and grub about down Rana Hole and the appropriately named ANUS. Dan, Graeme H, Imke and Jake should be ashamed of themselves. To see how unashamed they are, Graeme Henderson has posted – somewhere beyond the reaches of all Luddites – a very good video of the escapade.

It had been a generally lovely day on the Saturday and as can be seen from the variety of activities, well used.

As ever, nightfall just meant another kind of pursuit being followed; the usual nocturnal shenanigins benefitting from a seasonal twist. The MMC ever being willing to celebrate anti-Papal sentiments with a destructive display of mindless pyrotechnics held a superb fireworks display. Thanks to Graeme and Imke for the fireworks and Fiona for the amazingly successful lanterns that are now littering this pristine wilderness. Jake’s ‘mobile rocket-launcher’ had some health and safety issues, but apart from Graeme’s temporary deafness, we got away with that one.

Sunday was another fine day in the North West. Fiona and Alan took in Ben Stack on their way home and Ella, Bob, Dave Colin, Drummond and Jake took various routes scrambling over Stac Pollaidh.

There were sure to many more fine days had on that lovely Sunday, but thankfully no-one recorded them. (Hopefully the 25 that went all made it back. Ah well, bit late to alert montain rescue now).

I could describe the tee-shirted ascent of Ben More Coigach and Sgurr an Fhidhleir in perfect conditions on the Monday, but that would be seem churlish to my fellow wage slaves who had returned eastwards.

Magnificent place, lovely lovely people. See you all soon.

Jake