Last night I spent a while looking at the map trying to work out how to get some light onto the north faces of Sail Gharbh and Sail Ghorm, and fairly soon realised that it was impossible at this time of year.
I discover that sunrise at Inverness is due to be at 130 degrees from north and sunset at 230 degrees. I need less than 90 and more than 270, which is only going to happen between the spring and autumn equinoxes.
So my walk is going to be in the shade, and getting good photos will be more of a challenge.
But it’s due to be a crisp, clear day and I’m looking forward to it.
I need an early start to stand a chance of completing the final section in one day, and get there before the sun has risen.
The ground is rough right from the start; I often find deer paths to follow, but they seem to be scarce right now.
Reaching the first plateau, I meet a sturdy looking holly tree as the sun starts to rise behind Glas Bheinn; there’s red berries on the ground where I get the camera out for my first shot of the day.
I push on up the hill, and before I get to my target altitude, the sun blasts out, and its light rakes across the landscape.
I start to wonder how long it’ll be before I fall over today, and it turns out to be just another 30 seconds; just like the Stay Puft man in Ghostbusters, I’ve obviously brought it on myself!
305 metres; 1000 feet, and I’m in a gully running up to Sail Ghorm. Click. It looks cold up there.
The ground is slightly crispy, but you wouldn’t describe it as “frozen solid”. No idea what the air temperature is; I’m as warm as toast walking up hill!
Traversing across below the mouth of the corrie, the waterfall is two things: photogenic and also an obstacle requiring a little diversion.
Underneath the absolutely tremendous buttresses of Sail Gharbh, I head east to pick up my previous finishing point.
I can see where it is, its just where there’s a splash of sunshine on the ground at the point the hillside bends to the south. It’s also marked by a couple of deer; maybe even the same ones I saw here previously.
Today’s forecast was very good indeed, so I’m a bit surprised to see the weather over Glas Bheinn. It’s snowing, and it’s coming my way!
I grab a picture, put my camera away, and get out my leggings and thick gloves.
Just in case it goes horribly wrong, I also work out my “escape route” down the hill to the burn which runs back to the car park. I’m not staying up here in a blizzard!
As it is, total precipitation is less than a thimble-full and I carry on.
I’ve walked the “1000 foot” contour below the corrie on the way in, so I treat myself to a diversion through it, to return to my trail in a while. Eleven stags look at me all dopey, like they were not expecting company, and demonstrate how easy it really is to walk at 45 degrees across loose rocks.
In the middle of the corrie, I find a vantage point and take eight photos to stitch together in a panorama.
Back on my contour, I now have Sail Ghorm for company.
I’m getting hungry, so I sit down for what I believe is a late lunch and find that its only 1230. Good news! That means I probably can complete my route in the remaining light, and make the trek back to the van too.
Arriving at the shoulder of Sail Ghorm, there’s some deer silhouetted up on the ridge. I’ve only got a wide angle lens with me, so I’ll have to crop this one.
I can smell victory, if that’s what it is, the sun is shining on the ridge too, so I’ve only got to get over it. I’m scampering up there like a mad spaniel; partly excited, partly not to miss the sunshine!
Over at some erratics, I get a photo, and then realise I’m about a hundred feet too high. Whoops. There it is; down there….
When I’m home, I find that it isn’t the rock I started at last July at all. Never mind, it’s close enough!
Well, thank you Quinag; you’ve been amazing.
It’s looking like another good day for weather; we’ve already had a couple, and this is lining up for a Big Blue Sky.
Only five days ago I was up here waiting for the low cloud to clear, and now there isn’t a cloud in sight….. all day!
Just a short walk to my start today; I’m thinking of an identical shot to the final one of the last leg, but the sun is right behind me and my own shadow is spoiling it.
My GPS decides to play up, and tells me that my altitude is 227 metres, not 305. I know I’m in the right place! Maybe the air pressure is significantly different and I should’ve re-calibrated it on the beach earlier. Anyway, I can follow the map contour instead. It does show that electronics aren’t everything; but I have a map and compass (and know how to use them!) so it’s just inconvenient.
Down towards the road, I hear a dog bark; some excited mut taking its owners out for the day.
As soon as I leave the ridge, Spidean Coinich comes into view; it’ll be with me all day today. Also, the light on it is good right now; whereas direct sunshine on Sail Gharbh is leaving it looking a bit flat at the moment.
I’m walking through quartzite boulders and heading down towards peat bog right now; later it’s going to change totally to Torridonian Sandstone. I’m also heading towards a crossing point with my previous “Unapool Burn: Sea to Source” walk, intrigued to find the intersection.
In the middle distance, I can see a lovely loch. I can tell it’s pretty much on a level with me, so I’m looking forward to visiting it. Surely that must be really close to the stalker’s path? I’ve never realised that I’ve already been so close. And it is indeed just a couple of minutes over a brow, and it’s just great, with the peaks rising up behind it. I’ll be coming here again, for sure!
And behind me, Glas Bheinn.
Then an unexpected thing happens; my phone goes “ping”. I didn’t think there was any reception here. And it’s my friends Richard and Suse, who can apparently see me in the distance. So the excited dog earlier was Molly the labrador. I climb onto a mound to get a better view, and can’t see anyone at all. A trip to the opticians perhaps? I wave at them, as suggested on their text message.
A monochrome of Sail Gharbh:
Negotiating rough grass and boulders is hard work, and then I spot a little gem: a single rowan tree erupting from the rocks. Oh yes, this is going to make a picture. I steam across there, maybe four hundred yards, quite quickly in case the nearby patch of shade engulfs it too soon. I’m off track a bit, but I don’t mind. Checking the GPS, it says 329 metres, and I realise the altitude is oddly now correct again.
Stopping for a late lunch near to the end of Sail Gharbh, my phone starts working properly and I discover that my friends are almost directly above me on the ridge.
They report that the views are totally immense, and I get a twinge of envy. But, I’m having a great time myself, and can’t be in two places at once! They also reveal that they couldn’t actually see me at all; they knew I was nearby because of my parked van. So I’d been “had”; waving to imaginary friends, but I readily admit that I deserved it.
Closing in on the end, I cross several small burns and realise I’ve seen hardly any today.
I missed the top end of the Unapool Burn completely (Allt na Bradhan), so conclude that I must’ve coincidentally crossed it where in runs underground.
A couple of red grouse fly off into the distance.
My turning point today is the place I run out of sunshine and see the shadows coming towards me, marked by two small hinds standing staring at me.
Now I’ve got quite a long walk back to the car park. I’m not sure its wise, but I opt for the direct route. I’ve got Glas Bheinn as a beacon. Well, it was pretty dry actually, and I find several sections of exposed sandstone slabs which make it really easy. One of them even has the marks of some ancient sea bed; they are “sandstone” after all!
Nearing the end of my journey today, I again walk past the loch I mentioned earlier, and it’s even better! Almost mirror calm now, I shoot the reflections of Quinag. It is pretty amazing, but I can’t get it all in the shot with this lens, so I take a series of photos, left to right, to “stitch” together later.
Once again I resolve to return to this spot; what a way to end the day!
Its a few weeks since my last visit to “Quinag at 1000 feet”, due to weather and other commitments.
I’ve had a few days pencilled-in, but the conditions weren’t good.
Today’s forecast is mixed, but improving, and I’m keen to get back there, so I try to time it for the scheduled “improvement”.
It’s late morning when I arrive at the car park used by most of the walkers, and I can’t see Quinag, despite it being just across the road.
Coffee, biscuits, book, lunch…. finally a bit of brightness, so I set off down towards Coire Riabhach near to my last finishing point. Off the road, across the burn straight onto rough grassland that’s now losing its autumn hues and heading for the “winter desiccation” look that will last several months. I’m lucky; I hit a deer path, and it makes my ascent to 1000 feet a little easier.
Almost there, about a hundred feet short, and I disturb four stags that are having an afternoon snooze, apparently unaware that the rut is on. The camera is buried in my rucksack, so no photos. A few more yards and a mountain hare launches out of the vegetation where it had been invisible. It’s mainly brown, but has a bit of white around its belly.
There we go; 305 metres; 1000 feet, and the view opens up across Loch Assynt. And the view is grand, all except Suilven and Canisp which are trying to hide in the cloud.
I’m loving these grasses; soft feathery textures and an orangey-brown colour. Of course, they’re as hard as nails really; there’s nothing delicate waving around in the wind up here!
I get the camera out. It goes “Click” and then “Splat” as a big dollop of rain decides to fall at that precise moment and hit the lens. I clean it off and get a couple of pictures.
Turning around and heading north, I’ve got the cool breeze in my back and fleeting sunshine starting to pick out features and make it look like a painting. I’m very conscious that this weather can make very atmospheric photos, with a bit of luck.
Keeping my altitude isn’t easy; what looks like rough grassland also contains lots of wet, peaty gullies to negotiate. The peat isn’t that deep either; it drops two or three feet onto the Cambrian Quartz bedrock, which is angled the same as the hillside, and is also wet and slippy.
I’m getting good views of Glas Bheinn, in the east, across to my right, as it slips in and out of the cloud.
Spidean Coinich is way up to my left, somewhere over the top of the grassy slopes.
Sail Gharbh starts to appear as a very dark shrouded lump, still well and truly murky.
Closing in on the walkers path up to the Spidean, the bedrock breaks through more and more, and creates great foreground for me.
Odd bits of sunshine travel across the landscape adding to the atmosphere of the view. Which is kind of empty; just dead grass, but very photogenic, and also kind of full of hidden gems of stones, moss and lichens.
It’s decision time; left or right; 1000 feet or home. I’m at the edge of the big plateau between Spidean Coinich and Sail Gharbh.
Losing time earlier means that the sun is now too low if I carry on to my left, so I knock it on the head and go right.
But the sun is still just about hitting the little loch near to the path; below my chosen altitude, but begging for a photo! Sail Gharbh summit still only vaguely visible.
Back at the car park, I turn around and see that the summit ridge has finally broken cover, so I nip back across the road to finish my short day.