Torridon 6
- hiking scotland
After completing my first munro of the day, I leave the Cambridge guys behind and retrace my steps along the narrow ridge. Once back at the chute, I continue on, an easy scramble, looking very scary in places, but every single step is absolutely doable and not too scary.
I’m feeling like I am on top of the world. Only that I can’t see the world, just clouds. This is so much fun. I reach another summit and leave it behind when the clouds lift, and I miss out on a spectacular view west over the sea, Ben Alligin, the islands. My view is mostly blocked by the summit I just left. Bummer.
I’m staying ahead of the other group, but comforted by their proximity, indeed very grateful to have them near. Without them I might not have had the confidence to do the ridge. This last munro, Spidean Coire nan Clach, is a short scramble from the trig point, but oh, so exposed. For the first time today, I’m properly frightened to move. There’s no rockface to lean against for comfort. I’m not hanging out here but make my way back quickly to the trig point and walk down the zigzags in the scree, a clear path. It ends at a cairn, and my directions tell me that there’s a footpath here, going left, leading down the steep slope. Well, there is a footpath, but it soons turns into a landslide, and I can’t tell which of the muddy burns is supposed to be my path. There are no foot prints either and visibility is poor.
I wait, thinking that the other group might just be behind me. It’s quiet. They don’t come, so I keep going. The map says go downhill until you hit a stream. There don’t seem to be any difficulties I could run into, although I do see some dark, slippy looking slabs further down, that I’d rather avoid. I carefully make my way downhill, and soon the clouds lift, I see a clear footpath down below, and everything suddenly becomes clear and very easy. The path goes all the way to the road, and some of the guys finally catch up, and we have a chat.
Back at the car I remove my dripping socks and boots and drive back to the hostel. The two guys I met at the Triple Buttress and who went back the way they had come tell me that they were watching me on the ridge while they were walking back down below. I chat with another guy, seemingly a mountaineering veteran, and we invent the midge-sock-dance. This is moving like you’re trying to get out of your wet socks quickly when you arrive at your car after a day’s walk, while also avoiding to get eaten by the midges.
This guy now sits with his glass of wine at the table next to me, every now and then spraying a bit of RAID in the air around him. I hear “fftt” and then soon after smell the chemicals. I don’t mind, he gives me chocolate.
At 9 pm I’m having trouble to stay up any longer. I have tentative plans for tomorrow and nothing left to do, so I go to bed before 10 pm. A minute after closing my eyes I go out like a light.
I’m feeling like I am on top of the world. Only that I can’t see the world, just clouds. This is so much fun. I reach another summit and leave it behind when the clouds lift, and I miss out on a spectacular view west over the sea, Ben Alligin, the islands. My view is mostly blocked by the summit I just left. Bummer.
I’m staying ahead of the other group, but comforted by their proximity, indeed very grateful to have them near. Without them I might not have had the confidence to do the ridge. This last munro, Spidean Coire nan Clach, is a short scramble from the trig point, but oh, so exposed. For the first time today, I’m properly frightened to move. There’s no rockface to lean against for comfort. I’m not hanging out here but make my way back quickly to the trig point and walk down the zigzags in the scree, a clear path. It ends at a cairn, and my directions tell me that there’s a footpath here, going left, leading down the steep slope. Well, there is a footpath, but it soons turns into a landslide, and I can’t tell which of the muddy burns is supposed to be my path. There are no foot prints either and visibility is poor.
I wait, thinking that the other group might just be behind me. It’s quiet. They don’t come, so I keep going. The map says go downhill until you hit a stream. There don’t seem to be any difficulties I could run into, although I do see some dark, slippy looking slabs further down, that I’d rather avoid. I carefully make my way downhill, and soon the clouds lift, I see a clear footpath down below, and everything suddenly becomes clear and very easy. The path goes all the way to the road, and some of the guys finally catch up, and we have a chat.
Back at the car I remove my dripping socks and boots and drive back to the hostel. The two guys I met at the Triple Buttress and who went back the way they had come tell me that they were watching me on the ridge while they were walking back down below. I chat with another guy, seemingly a mountaineering veteran, and we invent the midge-sock-dance. This is moving like you’re trying to get out of your wet socks quickly when you arrive at your car after a day’s walk, while also avoiding to get eaten by the midges.
This guy now sits with his glass of wine at the table next to me, every now and then spraying a bit of RAID in the air around him. I hear “fftt” and then soon after smell the chemicals. I don’t mind, he gives me chocolate.
At 9 pm I’m having trouble to stay up any longer. I have tentative plans for tomorrow and nothing left to do, so I go to bed before 10 pm. A minute after closing my eyes I go out like a light.
