MOUNTAIN JOURNEY
BY DOMINIC BROWNE This journey took place in Scotland in November 1991.
I had decided that I was going to do another winter ascent of Ben Nevis and a 25 mile journey through the mountains to Rannoch station. Another great idea came to me - I would ask my best mate and mountain buddy, Joe, to come along. I gave him a bell and laid the rough plan out. He was all for it as he’d never done “the Ben” before.
 Mamores fron Ben Tourist Route
I set about getting the maps, working the routes, booking youth hostels, trains and all the million and one things that had to be done for a safe winter journey in Scotland. I cannot remember exactly what time we set off from Liverpool, but it was around 7.00 am. The journey started from Lime Street to Wigan; then we changed for the train to Glasgow. After killing several hours in Glasgow, we got the crappy train to Fort William around 4.00 or 5.00 pm. We finally arrived in Fort William about 9.00ish.
Joe had never been here, so he didn’t know I normally walk the 2 miles or so to the Youth Hostel. “I’m bloody getting a taxi!” I think was the response. We booked in and sorted our beds out in the dorm, grabbed a bite to eat and then I showed him around the hostel. We crashed out about 10.30 pm.
Next day, we walked into Fort William and did some shopping for provisions, and then went to the gym - sauna and Jacuzzi fantastic! As we walked back to the Youth Hostel, we passed the site where the West Highland Way long distance path started or ended, about 90 miles to Glasgow. We decided that we would like to attempt it one day. Fifteen years later we still haven’t! Over the evening meal we got talking to an American who was talking about attempting the Ben. We said he could come with us on the understanding that I had the final say on whether to go on or turn back. He agreed.
 Joe at Road-Track 4457 Loch Eigheach
We got up about 7.00 am the next day, had a good breakfast and looked at the weather - cloud cover about 2000 feet, but it was dry. We set off about 8.30 am, crossed the foot bridge across the River Nevis and slowly followed the path upwards. I reckoned all being well, an 8 hour day minimum. The normal turning point weather wise is about 500 metres at Lochan Meall an t- Suidhe (If you know how to pronounce that, you’re a better man than me, Gunga Din!) The last time I was up here the weather was horrendous and the snow was thick on the ground. So far so good.
The clouds covered as far as you could see but they were light, so we carried on. After about 30 minutes walking we came through the clouds and the sun was blazing – fantastic, an inversion layer with views you could only dream about. Still no snow, so we pushed on. At about 3500 feet the snow covered the ground but only a couple of inches thick. How lucky we were. The last time I was up here I was in a complete white out, wearing full winter gear and crampons.
We arrived at the top and a large crowd milled around the trig point. I did not realise until that moment that the trig point was on a mound of stone about 12 feet high off the ground. The year before, I had walked on the snow which was level with the trig point! We took some photos and soaked up the panorama - incredible! Ben Nevis - the highest mountain in Britain at 4406 feet (1344 metres).
We had bite to eat then decided to do the Carn Mor Dearg horseshoe. Over the edge and down to Corrie Leis, and then up to Carn Mor Dearg at 1223 metres. Down to Carn Dearg Meadhonach at 1180 metres, and then on to Carn Beag Dearg. Off the ridge, and down to the CIC hut in the shadow of the Ben. It was freezing. The famous climbing routes where all there to be seen. We had a breather then set off up the track and back to Lochan Meall an t - Suidhe. Joe and the American were getting tired now. As we went passed the Lochan, we saw a man coming up with a weird looking backpack on. We tried a few guesses - maybe a parachute? We carried on down. Joe found a hat that cost about 25 quid in the shops. I couldn’t afford one and the tight-fisted git wouldn’t give me it! We still joke about it today.
At about 300 metres from the foot bridge, we looked back up to the Ben and the clear skies. Lo and behold, the guy with the parachute backpack jumped off the mountain and reached the bottom before us; I had just used my last film.
What an incredible day!
A couple of things to note. The weather on the Ben is notoriously bad. Because of its height, it is roughly 9 degrees colder on the top than at sea level. On that day, if the weather had turned, a lot of people would have been in very serious trouble. I have had to turn back twice myself because of the weather and I was fully equipped. However, I’ve also successfully reached the top in winter three times. The scope for photography is enormous all around that area--put your boots on and get walking!
 Joe and Marty Lochan Suidhe
THE ROAD TO THE ISLES
Joe and I got up next day and packed all our gear into the rucksacks and headed off down to Glen Nevis. It was about a 4 mile walk to the end of the road and then the real journey began. The track was narrow and winding as it wove through the Autumn-leaved woods, in the distance. A tantalising glimpse of Steall waterfall could just be seen. A great start to a two-day backpacking adventure - Fort William to Rannoch Moor – with romantic notions of Bonnie Prince Charlie escaping the redcoats!
The narrow gorge sprang open to reveal a wide glacial valley stretching as far as the eye could see – beautiful and soul energising. We stopped at Steall ruins for a breather and checked our direction/compass bearings before setting off again. The path, at times, was just a line on the map, but it ran parallel with the waters of Nevis. The ground became swampy in places, and it looked like we were playing hop-scotch as we jumped from dry ground to dry ground.
After about 5 kilometers, we saw some deer way off in the distance- really blending in with the moor and the grey skies. At spot height 402, Tom an-Eite, we had to change direction and find a way over the river of Abhainn Rath (It really felt like we were in Lord of the Rings!) This area was a flood plain where a myriad of streams rushing off the mountain sides. We got a little wet but were quite happy that we got over the river safely – there is no-one here to hear your cries except your own echoes of lament.
Pushing onwards the day was dry and the skies were cloudy but it was warm and the history seeped into your bones. Luibelt - three buildings, on the other side of the river - gave us a good check point and escape route to Kinlochmore some 10 kilometers away along a vehicle track. We pushed on towards Loch Treig some 5 kilometers away and a possible campsite location. The valley sides crept in as we neared Staoineag - two buildings out in the wilds and one that had been turned into a bothy. Deciding to take a look, we crossed the arrow stream. The bothy was quite good and one to remember for the future but we re-crossed and continued on.
Mesmerizing glimpses of Loch Treig dragged our tired legs onwards. Crossing the wooden bridge high above the river that flowed into Treig at Creaguaineach Lodge, our gazes looked back sadly at the way we had come. I took a few photos and pressed on as time was catching us up. Finding a flat grassy area over-looking the Loch was incredible good luck. What a view! Dark clouds with the last rays of sunlight slicing through them illuminated the loch - a dream to end the day on. We had done about 20 kilometers that day.
Loch Treig is surrounded by mountains around 3-4000 feet high with the railway line hugging the east bank like a lover. In total it is about 5 miles long. A great night’s sleep was had by all. Another great day dawned and we set off early for Corrour Station and Loch Ossian some 4 kilometers away. The land was wider and a lot trickier to negotiate with more gullies, streams and boggy ground to cross. The empty station was also an independent Youth Hostel but the real Youth Hostel was at Ossian 2 kilometers away. The wide track led us to it and the scenery was outstanding. The track became a path as we turned south and a new map was needed.
The path led us to Corrour Old Lodge, which is now a ruin. What a location with views for miles - open moor with rays of light sparkling on the scattered pools. We only had about 6 kilometers to go until we hit the main road and we were now on a good vehicle track even though it was disused. Arriving at the B846, we sat down by the sign- post. “Road to the Isles - 25 miles.” We took stock quietly as we reflected on the last two days – fantastic, but sad it was almost over.
Now we had to find a campsite. There was nothing suitable here so we headed the last 3 kilometers to Corrour Station. We went to the hotel and had a drink and some food as there were no trains until tomorrow. The owner of the pub was from Norris Green and an estate worker was from Warrington who thought Scousers were great. He told us that if we had been here earlier we could have gone deer stalking. We asked where we could camp and he said that all the land for 6 square miles was owned by one man. You could not camp and if you did the bailiffs would tell you to move. Luckily, the pub landlord said we could put up our tent in his garden, so we did and had a good sleep.
 Loch Treig From Our Campsite
Up early and to the station to catch the train to Glasgow – there was no train. We had forgotten that the clocks had gone back that night, so we had at least an hour wait. While we hung around, a massive herd of red deer came over the hillside some 300 yards away. A train came in heading north and a Guilly got off - shotgun, dog, tweed jacket and plus-fours and wearing a deer stalking hat - an absolute classic. Our train finally arrived and we found our seats and settled into the compartment. Sadly, but with contentment in our hearts, our emotions waved goodbye. We knew we would never experience this journey or its like again.
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