The Sound of Silence
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I SAT and listened, straining my ears for any sound at all. But nothing - not even a bird or a breath of wind.
On this perfect winter day there was total silence. I looked out across a completely white, mountainous landscape and felt privileged to be here.
There was a slight feeling of apprehension as well – something that often happens when I’m on my own in the mountains.
But it’s a good thing, for it makes me all the more cautious and sharpens up my thoughts about making the right decisions and ensuring my navigation is up to scratch.
The shortness of the day meant the sun was already dipping low in the sky, but having reached my main objective, Beinn a’ Chaisteil above Strath Vaich, I only had the descent to worry about. Even if the light faded, once down in the strath there was a good track to walk along and I had my headlight should I need it.
Early starts are essential in winter if you want to be off the hill in the light, so I arrived at Black Bridge, off the A835 to Ullapool, at around 7am on a bitterly cold but clear morning.
The car temperature gauge was registering minus six as I prepared to cycle the three kilometres to a bridge providing access to Strathvaich Lodge.
The track was covered in snow and I was slightly concerned about staying upright on the bike but once under way the tyres seemed to grip well enough.
Reaching the bridge, near Lubriach farm, I set off on foot along a very icy path ascending on a shallow diagonal to reach a track under the wee protuberance of Meallan Donn.
From here I planned to climb Meall a’ Ghrianain, then the Corbett of Beinn a’ Chaisteil, finally descending to Strath Vaich and the track back to the bike.
This was turning out to be an amazing day – windless and clear, with a hint of pink in the sky as the sun rose higher.
The moon still shone on the opposite side of the strath above the huge mass of Am Faochagach, its long south-east ridge running the length of Loch Glascarnoch and beyond.
Partway along the path to Meallan Donn I was pleased to come across a new wooden gate with a solid stile alongside that made progress easy. A snowy Meall a’ Ghrianain reared up ahead, tempting me on. Getting to it proved difficult as I trudged over pathless ground battling with the heather and occasional peat hags.
I longed for some frozen snow to walk on but it was not to be.
Higher up things began to improve and I found myself having to be careful tackling the last couple of hundred feet to the summit, zigzagging up steep ground where the snow had turned solid in places and icy rocks protruded through.
On top I sat down to look around at nothing but snow-covered peaks, feeling a good deal warmer than when I started out, with no wind chill to worry about on this beautiful, calm day. I set off again at a steady pace, occasionally sinking up to my knees in snowy hollows, to reach the bealach dividing Meall a’ Ghrianain and Beinn a’ Chaisteil. The two kilometres between the two hills had looked a lot longer from the summit of the first.
Having made slow progress up Meall a’ Ghrianain I began to wonder if I should cut my losses and return another day for the Corbett.
As it turned out, Beinn a’ Chaisteil proved a lot firmer underfoot and I was able to walk a lot more easily over the approach slope, then the final bump to the top where the trig point was encased in snow.
I drank hot coffee from my flask and had a bite to eat, enjoying just being there on such a magnificent day, wondering what hills other people might be tackling. The Beinn Dearg group and the Fannichs looked very inviting, though they, too, would not have been easy to reach in soft snow.
I was content with my Corbett and now it was time to get down and hopefully reach the car while there was still light left.
I retraced my steps for about half a kilometre then veered off south-west down a gradually steepening spur to set foot on the track at Lubachlaggan at the side of Loch Vaich.
The temperature was starting to drop again as the sun went down over the horizon and I walked the four kilometres back to Lubriach and the bike, passing a group of inquisitive Highland cows en route.
