Petestack Blog

We all make mistakes. On Sunday, I made two: firstly (pretty minor) not realising that you can now park above the bridge at the bottom of the Callop track, and secondly (gruesomely major) getting the forest completely wrong! So perhaps I shouldn’t have made either when you’d think a previous sortie up that track for a run along Loch Shiel might have alerted me to the parking (which, to be fair, turns out to be marked on my GPS map but not my computer/printed ones) and the new SMC Grahams and Donalds book tells you the correct line through the forest (more or less as marked by my dashed line), but I was just vaguely remembering something I’d read online about that and belatedly discovered that the tracks spied from above just weren’t what I wanted at all. So I took an obvious opening between two posts in the obvious corner in the deer fence through to some barriers across a track I could see, found the dead end west of that, set off back east, took another branch north where the main track clearly continues east, found the dead end there too (all under construction!), persevered with a fire break west rather than retrace my steps again, lost one leg up to the thigh in bog (I was almost ‘swimming’!) heading through a gateless ‘gate’ in another fence and finally escaped north along the line of the fence for an unplanned trudge along the road to retrieve my van in torchless dark…

Apart from all that, it was another great and solitary hill day (my sixth in a row meeting no-one!) on ground I’ve missed getting to know for too many years. While Sgurr Ghiubhsachain forms the day’s literal and metaphorical high point and looks stunning from some angles (notably the north-east), it probably doesn’t quite topple Sgurr Dhomhnuill for me as Ardgour’s second peak (Garbh Bheinn remaining the clear first) when Dhomhnuill scores for both height and distant dominance as well as shape from every angle. But who needs to rank them at all when we’re talking three great peaks in this Munro-free land and they’re all free to anyone prepared to seek them out? Might also be worth mentioning the curious parallel fences traversing my loop’s south-most ridge and begging the simple question ‘why’? Some kind of territorial dispute with no man’s land between, or just two parallel fences?

Sgurr Ghiubhsachain or Streap? Two much-anticipated local(ish) peaks standing proudly south-west and north-east of Glenfinnan, so which to do first?

In the event Streap won as much because I’d spied a logical round taking in Braigh nan Uamhachan across Glen Dubh Lighe and all their tops with no doglegs whereas I might have to think what to include with Sgurr Ghiubhsachain! Which is why I headed west yesterday (on a day when the rest of the world seemed to be descending on Glen Coe for the new race) looking for two Corbetts, five Corbett Tops, two Graham Tops and a partridge in a pear tree…

So what can I tell you about this little jaunt? While I met one party of three preparing to set off and picked up a dropped A4 map (which I later speculatively left under a wiper on the only other car I saw after failing to find its owner) on the track, for the third walk in a row I saw no-one on the hill. To walk the track up Glen Dubh Lighe, you have to pass through (or climb over!) the tightest kissing gate I’ve ever seen. It would be just about worth taking a bike for the first couple of miles, but I never thought of it. Beinn an Tuim is well worth doing (with splendid views back to Loch Shiel and the Glenfinnan Viaduct) and really not as off-puttingly rough and rocky as WalkHighlands suggest. It’s great walking along the ridge from Beinn an Tuim to Streap on rough, but not awkward, ground, but I was a tad underwhelmed by the summit of Streap itself. It looked great, but somehow just didn’t quite deliver in being tamer and less airy than the descriptions I’d been reading! Also more, well, grassy… I’d kind of expect more rock on a proper knife-edge (which that much-lauded south-west ridge is not), so quite likely more satisfying under snow and ice? The camera got put away approaching Streap as wet cloud and rain began to compromise the middle part of the day, then never got taken out again as I saw nothing I particularly wanted to photograph once it started to brighten up (by which time I was descending Na h-Uamhachan with the higher tops still mostly obscured). And there’s a neat wee bothy about 300m above the bridge where my return track rejoins my outbound one… quite the ‘shiniest’ I’ve seen with immaculate gloss varnish on the bed platform and wood panelling, and two shelves of books to read in all!

Sgurr Ghiubhsachain (the obvious peak to the left of the first photo) and Sgurr Dhomhnuill (the prominent conical peak — and Ardgour’s highest — further left in the other ‘Loch Shiel’ shot) now very much on the imminent agenda, but not today…

Clockwise round of Glen Galmadale in Morvern today when I ‘should’ have been on Coll… bastard start through deep vegetation, ditches and holes in the ground where the SMC ‘Corbetts’ book merely says ‘climb steeply’, but lovely, gentle ridge to get back to sea level as nicely as anywhere! And, for the second walk in a row, I saw no-one else on the hill…

So why the apparent duplication in ‘Corbetts, Corbetts and Corbett Tops’? Well, apart from the Corbetts and so-called Corbett Tops (not listed by Corbett), there are also, um, Corbetts, with some 20-odd of Corbett’s list subsequently deleted for failing to meet the guessed ‘Corbett’ criterion that Corbett never actually specified. And, with Robin Campbell’s convincing research now pointing towards a prominence of 450 feet rather than the established 500, I’ve clearly got to do at least some of the Tops to make sure I’m getting all of Corbett’s Corbetts. But why stop there when 450 feet’s almost as broad a brush as 500 and there are clearly worthy peaks and mountain places meeting neither? For sure, adding the ‘Corbett Tops’ of Corbetts and Munros at 30m prominence triples the number of straight Corbetts, will take me back to some Corbetts and Munros I’ve already done and take far longer than just the Corbetts (probably already logistically more awkward than a straightforward Munro round), but seems in keeping with my already-achieved Munros/Tops/Deletions completion and probably (pending getting them plotted on my mapping software to evaluate properly) what I have to do. On which note it’s maybe also worth pointing out that today’s round takes in a Graham (no, I’m not collecting Grahams or Graham Tops… yet!) in Beinn na Cille, two Corbetts in Fuar Bheinn and Creach Bheinn and a Corbett Top in Maol Odhar. So Corbetts, Corbetts and Corbett Tops? Hmmm…

Might also offer a quick update on the cheap boots to say that today my feet got wet and stayed wet. Whether through the boots or down my trousers and socks I’m not sure, but it’s largely academic when my feet stayed (as they do in trainers) as comfortable wet as dry in these. And when you compare £35 boots to £16 return on the Corran Ferry for a day out (or a pair of these boots to half a tank of diesel when I relate everything to tanks of diesel!), that rather puts things in perspective!

No, it’s probably not what you’re thinking! Not cheap boots blamed for bunions, but in this case given credit for accommodating same in some comfort…

I’ve had this stupid bunion playing merry hell with an already (naturally) abnormal right foot for many years. It’s now eight years since my doctor told me it was a question of ‘when, not if’ I got something done about it, though he did also say that ‘might not be this year or even this decade’ with the podiatrist simultaneously advising to maybe ‘wait till your athletic career [his words, not mine!] is over.’ The same podiatrist who devised the wonderful 8°-sideways-sloping-squint-Achilles-correcting insoles I’ve not run without since and told me he’s rarely seen feet like mine ‘in someone so active’. So the bunion (which doesn’t really like any footwear) has had this particular ‘hate-hate’ relationship with mountain boots, rock shoes and true hill running shoes (which I’ve long rejected in favour of do-it-all trail shoes) for years and, having now said I’m done with (serious) racing but still seriously frustrated by things on my feet, I’ve finally made an appointment to discuss it again with the doc. Tomorrow.

And the cheap boots? Well, I’ve already got three decent pairs of mountain boots I rarely wear (like only when I absolutely need them for winter climbing etc.), wanted something lighter/softer now and had doubts about spending money on quality when things may change again if we decide to get it fixed and will certainly still give me pause for thought if we don’t. So I was making this west-to-east tour of the Fort William outdoor shops on Monday to check out Cotswold etc. on my way to Nevisport and Ellis Brigham when I found these really cheap Karrimor boots (Mount Mid 7 at £34.99) at Field and Trek that really fit. So I bought two pairs, reckoning them as ‘disposable’ at the price as the more expensive trainers I trash on a regular basis. Then got home to discover that 1. you can get them online for £23.00 from Karrimor or SportsDirect (so how can they make them for that and, perhaps more disturbingly when I’m guilty of buying them, what poor devils are slaving away to do it?), 2. the soles might wear really quickly or fall off (which I could have guessed), 3. they might or might not stay ‘Weathertite’ (which I could have guessed), 4. some folk have ridiculous expectations at this price (sending back for refund after nine months’ wear and tear… really?) and 5. others were complaining about them fitting small for their size whereas I found completely the opposite with a Euro 45.5 being perfect where I’d normally take a 46 or 46.5 in most things (NB UK size seems right at 11.5, but oddly equated to Euro 45.5!).

So how do they perform? For me with my feet (but not necessarily you with yours), comfortably on a Tuesday wander along the central spine of the Mamores from Na Gruagaichean to Stob Ban and again today (Thursday) over the three ‘Auch Glen’ Corbetts of Beinn Odhar, Beinn a’ Chaisteil and Beinn nam Fuaran. For sure, the grip’s no more than adequate (poor on smooth, wet rock, but what’s not?) and there’s some visible sole wear already (like enough to see they’ve been used, not falling apart!), but so far so good on the ‘Weathertite’ thing with my feet staying dry on ground that would have quickly soaked trainers and even allowing me to splash through puddles and ankle-deep burns. Beyond that, I have no great expectations. If they last for a few weeks of regular use it’s probably money well spent. For now. And sometime I’ll probably still be looking for some better-quality fabric boots with better sole units (like the Vasques I bought in San Francisco in 1997 and subsequently loved to death), but not with the bunion question unresolved one way or the other. And that’s mostly what I meant to say here, despite now taking a late dive into some non-news with the old observation that Beinn Odhar looks for all the world like Beinn Dorain’s little brother from some angles (notably from the road), and just about remembering to add that, while I saw some folk on the track (all but one on the parts where it’s West Highland Way), I saw precisely no-one on the hill all day! ;-)

Not sure quite how long ago I decided, but it’s certainly some years (and umpteen Munros) since I moved from thinking ‘how come I’ve never climbed Slioch?’ to ‘I’m saving that for last!’ And what better peak for the job when you’ve already run out of candidates within a couple of hours drive of home and a major ‘singleton’ with one of everything (Munro, Top, Deletion) has to be the perfect finish to an ‘all-time’ round of everything that’s been listed in Munro’s tables? So Slioch it’s been going to be for so long, and now Slioch it was (yesterday) with my 601-top round complete…

But did it work out quite as expected? Well, no, because for starters it was so nearly scuppered by that little accident on the way into Carnmore four weeks ago (on which note I might confess to wearing the Hokas yesterday for their swelling-accommodating space and comfort rather than hill-going qualities!). And the smart idea of meeting my clockwise Slioch Horseshoe racing friends as we tackled the round anticlockwise to get Sgurr an Tuill Bhain (Top) and the trig point (Deletion) on the way to that final Munro rather came to nothing as a combination of slow progress in somewhat trying conditions and an unexpected race diversion meant we missed almost the entire race field at the summit. As well as the ‘much finer’ view from this more northerly vantage point, though we can blame neither our lack of pace nor the race diversion for that! But there were compensations, like being able to share my bottle of The Singleton (Spey Cascade) with the Scots/Norwegian party who arrived there more or less simultaneously with our magnificent seven. And the belated clearing that at least gave us some decent views of Beinn Eighe on the descent. And the ‘Compleation’ certificate presented (along with a bottle of Prosecco for our dinner party) by the hugely welcoming Andrew and Gail Staddon at the Kinlochewe Hotel, with photo taken by Andrew joining the others on their board of Kinlochewe completers by the time we got home today! :-)

So to everyone involved, including (but not limited to) Andrew and Gail and some of their guests (thank you John Irvine for the drinks, and hope you finish your Munros on Beinn Sgulaird this year!) and my small, but select, summit party of Jamie Bankhead, Lisa Corse, Anne MacRae, Marie Meldrum, Angus Duggan and Andrew Johnson, what can I say but thank you for helping to make a special occasion even more special and an iconic peak even more iconic (to me!)? Still not sure how I feel now it’s all ‘over’ because it still feels oddly ‘wrong’ to have none left to do but, hey, we had a great time and…

Slioch done:
6-0-1! :-)