Part One…..

Ever since I completed my three day ramble up the Unapool Burn, I’ve been conscious that I thoroughly enjoyed the journey and wanted another one. I’ve never been one to do long distance footpaths, and it’s maybe because it’s someone else’s idea and I imagine I’d feel like a spectator rather than a participant. Or maybe that’s just nonsense. Anyhow, I’m lucky enough to live in Assynt these days, a place of opportunity if you want to be outside. And I do.

Quinag is one of my favourite mountains, and it’s one of the closest. It has a three-armed summit ridge, and very different landscape on each side.

On the top, it is, in fact, the top of the world! Don’t take my word for it.

Of course, most of the mountains of Assynt and Coigach feel like that, because they’re separate entities, all with astounding views.

I understand they’re called “nunataks”, as they’re the bits of the Earth that were left sticking out of the glacier when it gouged the land surface about two thousand feet lower to where my house is.

And they’re mostly sandstone. That’s a lot of sand that got turned to stone. And where’s the stuff that’s missing? The space between the mountains? It can’t all be on Clashnessie beach.

So I want to get to know Quinag a bit better, and do another “photo-essay”, and I’m looking at a map.

I could walk around it; all the way around it. Not in one go, but in a few day trips. Yes, that would float my boat.

I’m wondering how to put a little order in my disorganised head, and I realise that there is only one rocky crag that seems to block the way for a walk along the 1000 foot contour, about 305 metres in new money. I know that this could go wrong; there might be other obstacles I haven’t noticed, but I also know that I’m highly likely to wander off track too. Easily distracted, perhaps. It doesn’t help that I’m not actually bothered about the numbers either, artificial concepts that they are. Quinag doesn’t know how tall it is, and neither do the ptarmigans that creep around in the rocks up there.

16th July 2018. Here we go. As soon as I get out the van and start walking, then I know I’m committed to do it. I take my GPS machine with me and head up to the 305 metre level.

Today, I’ve decided to start with a walk along the western flank of Sail Ghorm, setting out from the road near to Ardvar. I’ve chosen this section as there aren’t too many water features; we’ve had so little rain this summer that the burns, lochs and falls are (in my opinion) not at their best right now. The start of the walk up to the shoulder is one I’ve done before, climbing up onto Sail Ghorm from the end.

One thousand feet sounds quite high; it’s a big number! However, here it’s not anywhere near the main stone crags, it’s quite a lush grassy terrace. I use the word “terrace” loosely…..

The weather’s a bit mixed; a few miles away, Nedd and Drumbeg seem to be in constant sunshine, but it’s very overcast as I arrive at “305”, and remains partly cloudy all day with big dollops of grey skies coming fro Suilven direction. But it doesn’t rain, and there is patchy sunshine too. I stop for coffee, and later for lunch, not because I’m hungry, but to wait on weather.

I stick to “305” as best I can, until the inevitable. I’m gazing up at an amazingly awesome pair of gullies that run vertically to the summit ridge, and realise that the right hand one has a grassy tongue reaching right into it. About twenty minutes later and I’m at 475 metres; whoops. The sun is burning through the clouds; I touch the rocks and take some pictures. Turning around, the heather that I clambered through for the last few yards becomes awfully slippy, so I sit down and slide down on my backside before I fall over.

Approaching the narrowest part of the Glen Leraig path, I recognise a crag I’d walked to from the opposite side, and decide that this is a good place to turn around. Before I do, I visit a couple of scars caused by water ripping open the surface of the planet, presumably after heavy rain up above. The first one looks quite recent and appears bare until I get there and find plants have colonised it pretty well. The second looks like a giant green zip fastener.

Dropping down to the footpath, I take the easy option until I get level with Loch an Leothaid, where I turn right up the hill to get back to my van. Incredibly, there is a bit of a path up here too, and I’m guessing that it was “constructed” years ago, and might have been an important route. Higher up, the path disappears, and I finish as I started across the rough peaty grassland.

There we go; another grand day out, and a project launched. Not only have I used the GPS today, but I’ve also recorded my thoughts periodically on my phone’s voice recorder, in case I forget to concentrate. Now I’ve written this and realise I haven’t listened to them anyway.

Mountain forecast said strong winds on the tops; 50mph this afternoon, so we decided to stay in the shelter of the Bone Caves valley.

Except, it became obvious very quickly that there was hardly a breeze as we drove over.

So the plan got adjusted slightly, and we left the car park and headed up a hill called Beinn nan Cnaimhseag (570m ish) to the north of the valley itself.

And until we approached, maybe, 450m, there really wasn’t much wind at all. Good call.

The view of the Bone Caves themselves is rather good from here, and puts them in context with the surrounding landscape.

Amongst lots of other bones found here, giving the caves their name, there were the remains of three bears, all separated by lots of years.

Including the only Polar Bear found in Scotland.

Pretty amazing.

But just look at the landscape!

It takes you right back; it looks primeval. And it feels it too.

After the cairn on our only peak today, we dropped back down to the burn, to a waterfall that I’ve never seen before, and had lunch.

Its not marked on the map, and we wondered why. 

Possibly because its not as vertical as it appeared; maybe about 45 degrees. (Angle, not centigrade)

Tracking down the watercourse, we came to a familiar fall next, with interesting limestone buttresses in the rock alongside.

I know that there’s a fall at the car park too, so its a “3 fall day” for me.

Almost there, and there’s a large pool with clear, freezing cold water just erupting from the ground in enormous quantities.

We speculate where it might have come from: further up the limestone valley is the obvious answer, but other explanations might be available.

Back at the van, our walk through ancient history was over.

No bears today.

I do have a “film camera” in the loft somewhere; a Canon A1, I think.

No idea why I’ve still got it, and I’m not a “Canon user” anyway.

I gave up using film not long after getting a Nikon D70s, ooooh, no idea how long ago, to be honest.

But, a bit like digital music vs. vinyl, film hasn’t actually gone away. Some people never left it.

So, a strange thing occurred:

My first ever SLR camera was a Zenit-B that I bought secondhand from my biology teacher at school in 1979. A couple of years later, he gave me the chance to upgrade to a Zenit TTL, and had the antiquated Zenit B back in part exchange. This was a huge leap forward; a much better camera, and it actually had a light meter inside it.

As unusual as it may be, I’ve always remained friends with this fella, as a kid and then as an adult (me, not him!).

Last year, he asked me if I’d like my camera back!

The original Zenit B? Yes please!

So about 41 years after I last used it, I got it back; and it was exactly how I last saw it. I think.

Obviously I was going to try it; it just had to be done.

After all, I still have the entire set of prints from the first film that I shot with it in 1979, so a bit of nostalgia wouldn’t go amiss.

Kodak Ektar 100, 36 frames, eighteen quid. Hmm.

Apparently, its the “world’s finest grain”; it says so on the box.

Loaded.

I’m having to use another small camera as a light meter to calibrate each exposure, and then after a few days, I realised that I’d actually forgotten what I’d taken. And you can’t review these!

About 3 months later, the film’s finished, so I need to get it processed.

I could’ve had a cheaper service, but decided to get a set of small prints plus scans.

Twenty five quid.

Plus postage four quid (because its too fat for the gauge!)

Yes, you may be adding this up too; total £47.

For 36 photos.

They better be good; at least a few of them!

Today, the scans arrived electronically; I guess the prints and negatives will arrive soon.

I am actually surprised that I got the exposure right, all the way through really. So the old Zenit must be firing the shutter accurately still.

But the image quality is, quite frankly, absolutely dire.

I don’t know whether this is inferior 1970’s Soviet glass, or whether some of the problem lays with the film and processing.

Either way; my curiosity is satisfied, and I won’t be spending another £47 anytime soon.

I’m really pleased that I did this; it was a real novelty, but, boy, have things changed!

Anyhow; check this out:

1979 Selfie vs. 2022 Selfie

Same me; same camera