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Ascent and Dawn
So the previous day Kev McKeown and I almost made the summit of Sgurr
nan Coireachan. I hated not to get a summit, and decided that an early
start this Sunday morning would be needed. The weather was forecast to
be superb and I settled on an early morning walk to Sgurr Thuilm.
Sometimes getting out of bed is the problem, but I woke in the bothy
somewhere around 6.30am.
Darkness. Too sleepy to get up, I could have slept but for the groin's
complaints. I unzipped from the sleeping bag, tiptoed over Kev McK's
occupied sleeping bag and went outside to relieve myself in front of the
bothy.
Out to a scene of darkness. A starry expanse above, Streap, the blackest
silhouette, edged up against the atmospheric glow. Stars glowed and
bubbled in the sky, all jewels. Venus glowed a sun in itself and
promised a new, bright day ahead.
Now I wasn't that tired. I wasn't particularly cold so it would be a
crime not to go.
I went back into the darkness and chill of the bothy, to pack my stuff
while padding around Kev who was sleeping in front of the fire. Davy
woke up, I located the map as a result and said I was heading for Sgurr
Thuilm. "Be back around 11" I said and headed out of the bothy.
It was darkness at first as I walked the track to the foot of the hill.
A cold wind blew through breaks in my warm clothing but I marched on
anyway and headed up to spur that led the long way to the summit.
Ready for the long slog and for dawn, I crunched over the frozen ground
-
grasses and soil were frozen stiff. Dawn broke in increments; a glimmer here,
a glow there. There was no wind as I climbed the spur of Druim a' Choire
Bheithe and above the western horizon, the Band of Venus swung towards
the ground, bringing mountains into illumination. Numerous mountains I
could only guess the names of. Names bounced around my head to the
shapes on the horizon: Sgorr Dhomhnuill, Rois-bheinn, maybe? Mountains
were everywhere, sometimes framed by the sky, caught in a jumble among
other obscure summits, or floating above a grey haze that carpeted the
land beyond the distance of a couple of glens.
As the summit pulled around into view I knew I was making progress,
drawing up parallel to Sgurr nan Coireachan which lies of opposite on
the Horseshoe. The pink glow had reached it's summit cap, bringing this
most Torridonian of summits into dawn. I climbed high enough to at last
be among the light rays. The sun had risen above the shoulder of Streap,
but a mid-December sun offers little warmth and a breeze was blowing. It
was warm if I moved but too cold really to stop.
I followed snow fields, walked between the thinning grasses, and over
rock steps. One bank of frozen snow had to be negotiated and although it
would usually require the use of crampons, I'd heard about step cutting
from a previous mountaineering era. I hacked some out of the snow to
save the unnecessary effort of crampons. It's harder than it looks, but
I got up eventually and trod the rest of the way to Sgurr Thuilm's
summit cairn.
Views opened out to the north, all the way to Glen Shiel. I took my
panorama, soaked up the scene and used the remaining feeling in my
fingers to text home, because for some reason they needed to know about
this magical moment.
Summit Views
Descent
Having spent fifteen minutes at the summit, I turned around and went
down. I'd seen the Cuillin's of Rum, Skye, Munros of Knoydart, Sgurr na
Ciche, Ben Cruachan (Southern Highlands) and Ben Nevis poking it's dome
above the kilometre-high haze. There's nothing quite comparable to being
up somewhere like this during sunrise, but I had to get down. I'd said
11am to Davy and I reckoned I might make it back for that time, but
I'd need to go fast. A quick descent followed, although sometimes steep
and tedious. I got a foot very wet and arrived back at the glen with
perhaps fifteen minutes to go until 11am. I got back
at five minute past to the sight of Davy and Kev standing by the bothy
door.
Just in time for breakfast, I thought.
Corryhully bothy
Walk-out
After a breakfast of tomato soup and bread we packed up, cleaned the
bothy then walked the kilometres down Glen Finnan. We didn't have that
far to go and arrived underneath the Glenfinnan Viaduct - a beautiful
piece of architecture although sparse in design seen up close. We
arrived at the car a few minutes later, in the car park and coated in
frost.
Drive home
We headed up to Glenfinnan village first. There were no shops so we
headed onto Fort William. I demanded we stop by the immense Jacobite
Monument first, then went on our way. Since we'd arrived here in
darkness two nights ago, I was getting my first glimpses of the
mountains and dead ahead on the road, Ben Nevis' whaleback rose from sea
level to a snow capped summit very high up. It's two subsidiary Carn
Dearg's give it bulk and even if this is it's benign side, it's sheer
size is
probably unparalleled in these islands.
With mouth-watering views across Loch Linnhe to the Ben, Kev and I
stopped the car at Corpach and got pictures from the shore - see below.
Then we headed south again and stopped in at Tyndrum on the way back to
Glasgow.
Later I heard the news a 19 year old guy was killed at Tower Gap on Ben
Nevis. It poignant to be in the same area at the time, to know that
another person that ages with you can get killed, and sobering to think
he and his mates probably woke up to a beautiful morning too in
anticipation of the day ahead. Be very careful!
Anyway, Kev kindly dropped me at my front door. I should get him to drop
me in the centre of Glasgow because my house is a hell of a diversion!
Panoramas
180° from Sgurr Thuilm (north)
180° from Sgurr Thuilm (south)
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