Wild north

Leaving the car at Achfary, I was watched by more deer as the sun rose and I prepared to head into the hills for the day. A short cycle took me to the locked estate bothy at Lone (not Lonely) where I dumped the bike. 

Passing through the split rock forming the Gateway to Arkle, I followed the excellent estate track towards the Bealach Horn, last visited in the clag six years back. Thankfully this time was clear and I could see the way ahead, unfortunately it was blowing a hoolie. 

Nevertheless I left the track and headed upwards, scrabbling over loose rocks and scree trying to not get blown over as the wind increased in strength with every metre climbed. At last the gradient eased and I tottered over the plateau towards the first Corbettt of the day, Meall Horn (#156). 

I took a compass bearing at the cairn since the lowering cloud threatened to engulf me and I didn't want to lose the way. To the north I could see the mass of Ben Hope and Ben Loyal. 

With the wind on my shoulder, I battled east over Sabhal Mor, down to the bealach and onto the Graham of Sabhal Beag. A stony, wind-scoured lump with a hardly discernable high point. 

Turning south I followed grassy slopes down to c400m and a break for lunch. For the whole walk so far, the enormous complexity of my next summit loomed in the south, backlit by the low November sun. Onto the hill again and back into the wind, this time it was almost frontal. 

The boulder fields on the minor top of Meall Garbh (rough hill) made things more difficult than it should be, with gusts sacking me without warning and I did well to not tumble. There was plenty of swearing inside my hood mind you. 

Over another top, down a narrow ridge and at last the final climb to the summit of Meallan Liath Coire Mhic Dhughaill (the grey hill of Macdougall's corrie - what a great name for a hill. #157). Just as I arrived at the summit shelter cairn, the sun broke to illuminate all the hills I had passed over to here. This is a very complex hill, perhaps more so than Beinn a'Ghlo in the south. The difference being there was no-one here, and no paths. Just me, lots of ridges, corries, lochans and views across the whole of Sutherland. 


Time was getting on and I still had a long way to go, I didn't want to still be out in the dark so after some more food and pics, I headed back over the narrow ridge onto the western spur and followed this until I could drop easily down to the glen floor. More deer barked a warning as I startled them in the gloaming. I hit another estate track and trudged back to the bike. I had been walking for 7hrs. 25km.


The blip is looking west towards Ben Stack and the Atlantic coast.