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There's a sort of
misfortune in Beinn Bhuidhe breaking the 3000-foot barrier in that it
becomes that hill everyone bags just to move on again. And I came to it
with this kind of motivation, admittedly - but without the cynicism.
When I began hillwalking, I started in the Arrochar Alps, and moved up
the A82 as experience grew. Beinn Bhuidhe was always left unclimbed
because I didn't have have the means to get to Loch Fyne. Like much of
the western peninsulas, they're all just bloody awkward of access unless
you drive a car. As I got my driving license, the time came to do Beinn
Bhuidhe whose nil ascents is a telling contrast to my 14 of The Cobbler
only a few miles away.
I didn't get up too early. I'd been down with food poisoning the
previous week, and early starts would be rewarded just by further
sickness. But I didn't think I needed to rush, even with our short
daylight hours. Skies in Glasgow had been clear and mist lay over Loch
Lomond. I bought supplies from Arrochar and continued into Glen Croe. I
hadn't been here in years but I've often seen it from afar. I was
surprised at how enclosed it seemed on the valley floor. The road climbs
to the Rest and be Thankful and here it regained it's large and
steep-sided ambience.
From the Rest and be Thankful, the mountains look so steep that it seems
amazing the road escapes to Loch Fyne at all. Beinn an Lochain plummets
to the ground to meet Binnein an Fhidhlier, and this forms a steep
back-wall. I didn't remember it being this impressive! But the road
makes it way through and Loch Fyne marked a return to more conventional
rolling scenery. A little ring road curves around the head of the loch,
separate from the main road, and the car park lies off this. I parked up
without problem, for which Google Street View was a godsend. The car
park is really just
one great pothole (you'd see what I mean) and five or six other cars were already in residence.
It looked like I was last on the hill.
Cycle in
and Beinn Bhuidhe
I put my bike together and started off up the glen - the track to follow
is on the east side of the river - it is tarmaced, like cycling on a main
road. The cycle was without incident but for the Highland Cows - and
calves. That old dilemma again...
I left my bike where the estate asks you leave them, but Inverchorachan
(the alternative drop-off) is 20 minutes further on foot. This is a
strange little house - it seems used for storage if nothing
else. but it is clearly abandoned. It would make a nice bothy. But for
the plantations and hydro-roads (the usual gripes), Glen Fyne itself is
a nice place. Mountains only appeared wrapped in cloud and I climbed up
the hillside into the mist.
Higher up, I encountered the "granny-stopper" (said one of the
guys on the hill!) a 2-metre-high slab
bisecting the path. It's a nice (but brief) hands-on bit, and I thought
the handholds weren't as good as they'd first looked.
And then I came
out the top of the cloud.
First the mist
lightened and then broke away altogether, leaving me in a shining,
glimmering world; a Brocken Spectre in the mist-choked gully, enshrined
by the glow of a fogbow. The sky was intensely blue and the grasses
golden and sparkling in the morning dew. I carried on, pleased for
having made the effort to come here. The moors above were boggy but it wasn't such a bad
hill as the trip reports on the internet had me believe. For all this
sunny beauty, the first guy I met said he'd seen hailstones on the summit only
half an hour before.
There was a path all the way up the hill in various shades of vague. But
the route to the summit ridge is very clear in good weather, and I
slogged up expecting a view - just as the clouds started closing in and
the view I got on the other side was of a mist-shrouded Cruachan Range.
The summit ridge went on into the mist and I finally stood on the summit in
cold conditions where I met three Glaswegian guys. We chatted for ten
minutes and their banter was top-notch. Everyone I'd met thus far
commented that it was their first time on Beinn Bhuidhe. They also said
it was the last hill in the area they'd still to do.
Sounds a bit like me.
Descent
and Inveraray
Everyone else left the summit and I stood for a while to see if that
patch of blue sky would open up. When it didn't, I left the summit and
went back the way I came. Rain was spitting and I was cold. I'd thought
about continuing onto the north top, Ceann Garbh, but because the
weather wasn't so good, it wouldn't have been fun. The run back to
Inverchorachan was just brilliant, splashing through all the bog and
looking forward to riding out. In the process of running, I saved myself
from many assplants in the mud by great coordination...
At some point, I also realised I might get back to the car below four
hours. So I got back to the bike and raced down the glen. The tarmac
road was a relief, it made riding so easy. And as if to take the piss,
the rain came on heavier than before and I was wearing a t-shirt.
But five minutes from the car, I wasn't stopping now and rolled into
the car park five minutes short of four hours.
I felt damn good about my effort, but the rain had made me cold. It took a long while
to heat up...
And since I had the car, I decided to go to Inveraray. I hadn't been in
years. The cloud rolled back and the sun shone over Loch Fyne as I drove
into the town and parked. Chips and a cup of tea followed. I stood at
the front, looking out across the water. The Vital Spark is anchored
here - and there's a bit of history. But I also noticed one of the
mountains had a great overhanging face. It took a long time to identify
it as Beinn an Lochain. This overhanging cliff is called Old Man's Face
on the OS map. It was ruggedly impressive, but the hills were benign in
the cool air, blue sky and slanting afternoon sun.
The drive home was pure joy, and as I rounded the Rest and be Thankful,
The Cobbler came into view, it's slopes blazing pink and orange in the
sunset; the jewelled Moon suspended above the overhanging North Peak. A
perfect scene. I pulled into the car park and took some photos. Others
were standing outside in apparent awe. What a great time to be alive...
I thought, as I jumped into the car, homebound.
Would have been a shame if I was born in a flat country, I sometimes
couldn't imagine life without these mountains...
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