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This was my fourth time up Beinn Dorain, the
first in winter and the first without a view from the summit.
I'd been so lucky on my previous climbs of Beinn Dorain. The first
time in November 2008, The Merrick in Galloway could be seen, some
100-odd miles away, one of the longer sightlines in Scotland. The second
time I camped on the summit mid-September 2009 and watched the sun set.
The third time I climbed it, April 2010, it was the final summit on a
round of the five Orchy Munros. The Highlands remained snow-streaked,
the
white summits were set against the deep blue of a sunny spring sky and
glen's deeps browns.
Beinn Dorain is so worth climbing in good weather because the view is so
good, but today it wasn't to be. The forecast predicted a cloud top
of about 900m - high summits poking out the top - but from our window in
the Bridge of Orchy Hotel bunkhouse, it was realised soon that the hoped
forecast wouldn't transpire.
Ascent
Dougie and I headed out almost as soon as we got up. Breakfast had
just been some fruit in bed, but I didn't think Beinn Dorain would be
too taxing a day anyway. We left extra gear in the hotel cloakroom for
later pickup and got on our way, heading up through the train station.
The funny thing about this day was that I didn't feel too great. In the
morning I was a bit wasted and out of energy in general - maybe I did
need that breakfast. (But in any case, I wasn't giving the hotel even
more money!)
The weather wasn't going as hoped, not bad but not great either. But the
fun really started when we got to the 744m bealach. Before then it had
been a bit dreich, and in my memory the climb to the summit defined the
day. Only five minutes beyond the bealach the cloud opened for the first
time and not the last. I ran up the hillside to the next viewpoint,
pulled the camera out and got shots in case the scene closed over again.
We had been told by others that the summit of Dorain had been 'grey' and it
sounded like views were hard to come by.
But through this window to the east, Creag Mhor and Beinn Heasgarnich
were free of the cloud. The east must have been clear today with Beinn
Dorain poised on the edge but unable to escape the mist. The scene
closed over again.
It always seemed as if we were edging at the
top of the cloud, though we never broke through. And so a strange
half-light occurred at this point where half the sky would be blue in
the interior of cloud, the other half of the sky glowing blunt yellow of
the sun. Light and shapes played off snow banks in a surreal and
thrilling experience.
For all the excitement, I'd forgotten just how long it was to the
summit. In April 2010, on a round with four Munros under my belt, I'd
battered up the ridge at such speed that I barely remembered how long it
was. Today it was anything but unpleasant, though we weren't trying to
set records either. Just have a good time was the name of the game.
Summit
Higher up on the mountain, I could sense the
hill thinning to a ridge, as if we were up high beside the summit. And
sure enough the tracks we were following brought us to the north top of
Beinn Dorain, where a cairn larger than the main summit's sits. I'd been here three times in perfect weather, I knew a narrow
ridge took us beyond this pseudo-summit to the real one. Just as Dougie
was about to sit down for a summit-snack, I broke the news and I won't
deny there was a streak of smugness! We continued
on beyond the cairn, breaking trail on virgin snow.
We'd passed a fair few folk on our way up, though not one track was seen
on Dorain's summit ridge, not even a drifted remnant. We headed downhill
on a gradual incline and as I began to question whether I'd made a
mistake, the ground reared up again and dropped us at the side of a
second cairn, the summit. It felt good to be on top of Beinn
Dorain, possibly the first summiteers in a while even if we never managed to break through the cloud!
We often came close to the extent that a full blue sky sometimes
appeared above us. This was very much a parallel to my second time on
this hill, in September 2009. I'd pitched my tent the night
before, watched a West Coast sunset and fallen asleep, and the next
morning I awoke to wind and cloud blowing across the summit. I sat among the
damp rock and wind, camera in hand for an eternity hoping for a break in
the cloud that never came, always tantalisingly close to the cloud top
but never quite there, so close that the blue sky was right in front of
me.
You can't always get what you want, but I had no complaints about Beinn
Dorain today.
Descent
The cloud thickened on descent as if the
best of the day had passed. We followed footprints downward. I carved
the words 'NOT SUMMIT' into the snow by the north top, and we
continued on our way. The only problem on descent was that we lost the
prints and began to veer off course, too far to the left. We were
greeted with confusing topography, and north on the compass was a long
way off where instinct told me north was.
It was a minor wee scare, but resolved itself soon and then we were back
at the bealach, with Bridge of Orchy in sight.
And in complete contrast to getting lost
above the bealach, the cloud cleared from the summits and sunset was
pretty good. Having expected to be finished for the day,
this proves the point to always expect the unexpected. Sometimes the
physical effort involved in climbing mountains seems a lot, but on every
walk there are exhilarating moments to break up the effort, there are
sights to see and in the rapidly changing weather of Scotland, things
can always turn around for better or for worse.
We didn't get the full-blown 'sea of cloud' as anticipated, but what we did get had
been pretty damn good.
We sat in the hotel at Bridge of Orchy
drinking - I was staying off alcohol but snuck in a Guinness. If there's
anything going for that hotel, it's the chips. Having skipped on food
all day, I received them well, and then bought more.
With two days of walking under my belt, it was time to commence with the
actual weekend. Eight of us had booked into the bunkhouse at Inchree,
near Glen Coe for Friday and Saturday nights. What we would climb on
Saturday would be up for much discussion, as was Sunday. But to get to
Inchree, Dougie and I had to get a lift from someone - Diane
didn't show up due to some miscommunication, but Craig managed to pile
us into his car and that was sorted.
As it was, the next day we climbed Na Gruagaichean and Binnein Mor in
the Mamores. |
