Steep learning curve on Ben Wyvis
Register for free to read more of the latest local news. It's easy and will only take a moment.
Moray reporter Chris Saunderson pulls on his hiking boots to climb his first Munro – but will it be his last?
It has taken 51 years and 294 days but finally I have joined the Munro baggers' club.
A shocking indictment really, considering I have lived in Scotland all my life and been surrounded by mountains, at least for the last 26 years that I have called Moray my home.
Better late than never, the saying goes, and so it proved on Saturday, July 18 – a day that will go down in history, well at least in my own personal history books, if nobody else's.
Ben Wyvis was conquered and is now officially my favourite mountain, although for a brief period at the summit it was anything but favoured.
My partner of 18 months, Donna, is an experienced hiker and passionate about her mountains; she has climbed extensively in her native Ireland, most notably in the Mournes in Northern Ireland. She has also hiked in Norway and Iceland, but this too was her first Munro.
Having done Ben Rinnes twice in the last 12 months – Moray's tallest peak at 841 metres – we warmed up for our crack at Ben Wyvis with a third hike of the Dufftown Corbett the Sunday before with my daughter Becky and her boyfriend Ben.
Lockdown had not been kind to my core fitness and a poor choice of socks to go with my hiking boots, along with the remarkable incompetence of leaving my inhaler in the car (something I discovered when it was way too late to turn back) conspired to leave me struggling with a blister on my right heel and puffing away like a steam train at some of the tougher parts of the ascent.
Despite those handicaps, we went up and down in four hours, which included stopping for a picnic and then a wee detour to another outcrop of nearby rocks, called Scurran of Well, a group of contoured granite outcrops. Oh, and there was time to bag a front-page story about a couple getting married at the top of the mountain, so all in all it was a good day.
A 14k walk along the Moray coastal footpath 48 hours before our Ben Wyvis adventure was far easier and another good warm up for the mountain hike which lay ahead.
Ben Wyvis Saturday arrived and we set off from sea level base camp in Lossiemouth at about 6.30am for the drive to the mountain. Google Maps took us what turned out to be the wrong way initially but a quick detour through Dingwall and we were confidently back on track.
The call of nature beckoned at the car park and I stepped into the bushes to answer it and plunged straight into a muddy ditch. Oh, how I laughed at my schoolboy error.
Anyway, with proper socks applied to the feet, a puff of the inhaler (safely tucked in pocket thereafter) and we were off, but 50 yards along the way Donna reminded me my cap was still sitting in the car. A quick about turn, cap applied, and we were off for a second time.
The walk up through the forest is thoroughly pleasant, and we spotted a frog merrily hopping across the path and then made our way alongside a gentle burn, water flowing on a sunshine summer day.
A gentle meander evolved into a steady climb up mountain steps constructed from large rocks and an uneven and twisty mountain path which zigzagged to the summit, or so I thought.
The 'summit' I could see from lower down was a long way from the real summit, which is a fair way further on from the staging post of An Cabar at 946 metres.
The wind by now had intensified and to use a technical term, it was 'blowing a hoolie' as the mist started to come down to obscure the amazing views over the Highlands and Cromarty Firth.
I thought I was prepared pretty well – aided in advance by Donna's wise counsel – but my mountain gear was lacking in one crucial area: gloves. I knew it would be colder near the summit, but naively thought that this was July and it was around 17 degrees down on the ground, so it wouldn't be bloody freezing at the top.
It was, and with the added factor of driving rain which felt like tiny needles being inserted into my cheeks, the wind chill was pretty chilly. Donna came to the rescue with a spare pair of gloves she had in her bag, but as they were fingerless they only partially warmed up my handies.
The summit at 1046 metres was reached and, as the rain and wind continued unabated, Donna turned to me and said, 'How much do you hate me right now?'.
I confirmed I didn't hate her – but Ben Wyvis was, momentarily at least, not in my good books!
I carried a picture of my late father to the summit and in another nod to the old boy, did the walk with a Queen of the South football shirt over a very warm base layer.
The wind was my biggest fear factor, I must confess, particularly around the twisty section as we descended, but my hiking poles were a godsend and eased the pain of my dodgy knees.
As the temperature started to rise again, my hands returned to full working order and we stopped to enjoy a picnic and revel in the full glory of the breathtaking views as, by now, the clouds had lifted and the sunshine was all-encompassing.
We then made our way back to the car park, briefly pausing to observe a massive caterpillar crossing the path and ensuring it did so safely.
Glove-gate served as a reminder to be fully prepared for the vagaries of the Scottish weather but, that aside, this was an exhilarating and invigorating first ascent of a Munro. We went up and down in six hours, 20 minutes.
There are just 281 to go; watch this space!
Route details
Ben Wyvis
Distance 8.5 miles / 14km (return)
Terrain Good mountain path to An Cabar, then ridge walk with navigation skills required in poor conditions
Start/finish Ben Wyvis car park, Garbat
Map OS Landranger 20
A first foray into Munro bagging for our intrepid Moray reporter
Read more
- Outdoor community asked to help tackle litter problem on Scotland's hills
- Through the looking glass on Geal Charn
- More from Active Outdoors
