Maol Chean Dearg (Bald Red Head) & Liathach (The Grey One) - Photo Gallery,

I drove up to Torridon on Sunday; it rained all the way and some of the showers were almost tropical, I was beginning to worry that I was going to have another washout. As I drove up Loch Torridon I had a view of Liathach, it was topped by cloud but still awe-inspiring; the forecast had changed each day for the past week so I wasn't sure what to expect. Monday was windier than I had hoped as well as raining more than I wanted it too; the quest for a hill that could be climbed in the conditions involved a drive round to Coulags in Strathcarron, there are no shorts cuts in that part of the world.

I parked at a bend in the road just before it bridged the Fionn-abhain; we set off in the rain, immediately walking across the bridge where there is a rare sign-post pointing out a footpath to Torridon. We turned left on a track, and with walking heads-down in the rain missed the pointer to the path; only after my guide realised we were going in the wrong direction did we turn back. We found a muddy path just on the other side of a big gate, it took us through trees at first and then led us to the wide valley of Fionn-abhain. There are a few undulations and one large swampy puddle to get past before the path levels out and follows the river.

After about a mile, you have to cross the river; a four-feet wide wooden bridge shouldn't cause any problems, but I'm always wary of wooden bridges when they get wet. Having safely crossed the river, there is a good path that leads to the Coire Fionnaraich bothy; shortly afterwards something ahead caught my eye - a rare landmark in the flat valley-bottom. I had to put my glasses on to see what it was - an upright finger-shaped boulder, whose name, Clach nan Con-fionn, appears on the map and literally means The Stone of Fingal’s Dog. It is supposed to be where the legendary giant Fionn used to tether his dogs, but looks more like a modern sculpture, about the size of a tall man.

I carried on walking, the path was less obvious once we had got past the bothy, probably because the ground was much wetter and everybody makes a slightly different way across the soft, wet surface. We came to an obvious path turning off to the left and started to follow it uphill; the ground was eroded and wet at first, the rain had turned it into a shallow stream. After crossing level ground the path started to climb upwards, but this time the going was firm underfoot, eroded quartz rock made it seem like it was made of hardcore. It stopped raining just as we reached the Bealach a' Choire Ghairbh; Maol Chean Dearg rose up steeply on the right, but across the bealach there was a strikingly rugged view of An Ruadh-stac. My companion had tried to walk off feeling ill, but had failed to do so; she was obviously too unwell to continue and had to retreat, while I selfishly carried on.

It was a steep walk upwards and the wind was blowing strongly through the bealach, stopping me in my tracks on a couple of occasions. There was an obvious path upwards, made from eroded white quartz, the erosion had ground the rock to small fragments that were awkwardly slippery on the steep gradient. It was interesting, I was liking the hill much better than the green lump that I had been half expecting; it became much rockier as I got closer to the ridge. The ridge turned out to be a bouldery plateau, rough walking in between large white boulders and the shattered remains of others.

The white rocks were left behind and, after a slight descent, I started to climb a greener slope; as the steepness increased, so did the number of rocks. Eventually I was clambering upwards in an ocean of red boulders, the bare red-coloured dome of the summit being the obvious reason for its apparently comical name. The mist came in just as I reached the large shelter cairn at the summit of Maol Chean Dearg; there wasn't much shelter as it started to rain again. I was aware of the need to not descend in the wrong direction, and took a bearing with the visibility being so poor, but as almost always happens, I did the thing that I was trying hard to avoid.

I started to descend, but when I saw straight down to the bealach through a gap in the mist, it confirmed my suspicion that I had left the summit in the wrong direction. I climbed back up the few feet I had descended to the summit plateau; I was going to contour around the edge until I found a path, but the nearby cairn made it easier for me to find the right way down. The steep descent of the red boulders was difficult enough without the constant wind and occasional stronger gusts, I was glad to reach level ground again but I had enjoyed the unexpected challenge of the Bald Red Head.

I walked back across the quartz plateau and made the steep slippery descent on the white crystals back to the bealach. It seemed to be further down to the valley that it had been coming up, maybe it was raining harder on the way down. The rain stopped when I was nearly back at valley level; I stopped to talk to some fellow walkers who I had seen earlier and within seconds the midges attacked so I quickly said my goodbye and carried on. It was a nice sunny afternoon for the long walk back to the car and back at the hostel the new forecast was much better, would I finally get my chance to climb Liathach?

Tuesday morning's look out of the window was not too promising but I had to go and see what the conditions were like; I parked the car near the bottom of the descent route and walked up the road to the start. It was sunny by the time I reached the inconspicuous start to my big walk but it was obviously still breezy on the tops, the clouds were moving quickly. Once I got off the road there was no gentle start, I was immediately climbing steeply up by the side of Allt na Doire Ghairbh; literally translated as “stream in the rough thicket”, somebody forgot to add “relentlessly steep” to its name. The path is reconstructed all the way up past the waterfall that is visible from the road; there is only a short respite from the steepness at about 500 metres, and there are of course the usual rock steps that will never be paved, but you wouldn't want them to be.

The path has several good examples of the sandstone erosion that is typical in that part of the world; at one point I had to make a big step up but the rock I was holding on to came loose at the wrong time. The rock came away in my hand just as my supporting foot slipped off a sloping ledge, as I was stepping up with my other foot; fortunately I got some grip with my knee, it was poor technique but I managed to hold on.

Toll a'Meitheach is a small hollow where the reconstructed path ends just above the waterfall; for a short while the relentless steepness eases before returning with a vengeance as you climb up into Coire Liath Mhor – the big grey corrie. The greyness refers to the colour of the rock, and you walk up a ribbon of eroded grey boulders and stones; the steepness of the climb adds to the anticipation. Looking back you can see you have made a steep climb, looking up you can see there is a long way to go; on the left, above you is a huge semi-circle of crags. Apparently there is an alternative route to the summit of Spidean a' Choire Leith through the crags, but it is a bit too daunting to be a short-cut that I would wish to make.

The straight ahead route ends, just before you would enter a large gully, and a path leads off to the right; I had seen this path from below and I was thinking a less steep traverse would follow, but I was wrong. It started off as an easily sloping traverse but the path barely clung to the steep green slope, and it soon turned into another climb uphill; this time I was feeling much more exposed, high up on the steep slope that dropped all the way down to the road. The path was less distinct than before but no less steep and steeper in places; there were rock outcrops to negotiate that were more fun to scramble up than having to cling on to the bare path.

At one such outcrop, I chose the more obvious looking route, and ended up climbing a twenty-feet high, V-shaped sandstone gully; at the top I found myself on a precariously steep grass slope, twenty feet above a more obvious path. There was still more climbing to do but at least I could see the skyline; a sudden burst of enthusiasm caused by knowing I was almost on the ridge got me going a bit quicker.

Suddenly, I was on the ridge, a small path running across a narrow ledge. It was truly breathtaking, a real “Wow!” moment. The ground disappeared below me to reveal a huge landscape of hills and lochs, and to my left, a steeply rising series of stony peaks that give Liathach, the grey one, its name.

Having recovered my composure, although still with jelly for legs, I decided to turn right and walk up to the summit of Stuc a'Choire Dhuibh Bhig - a Munro Top; partly for the experience and partly to acclimatise to the height and steepness of the surroundings. It was a proper ridge walk, rough stony ground close to the edge of a very big drop on either side, followed by clambering up boulders to the airy summit. The view of Bidean Toll a'Mhuic, the first peak on the ridge at the other side of the ledge, showed a dauntingly steep, narrow ridge, but I was sure that the ridge I was on would look just the same when I looked back at it. There was a tremendous view of Beinn Eighe from the summit of Stuc a'Choire Dhuibh Bhig, it's white colour completely different to The Grey One. I also recognised the distinct horns of Beinn Alligin, and I could see a host of other mountains that I couldn't identify.

I descended back down to the ledge and set off towards Bidean Toll a'Mhuic; I immediately had to cross a narrow ridge with an irregular bouldery crest. I kept to the path below the crest that just about clung on to the side of the hill, it was a long way straight down and I had to take care on the sections of the path that were obstructed by boulders. Then I started the first of the day's steep bouldery ascents, it didn't feel as narrow and exposed as it had appeared at first glance, probably because I was concentrating on where to put my feet rather than looking over the edge. It is a strenuous climb to a rocky summit, the summit cairn sits on top of a platform, the first of the regular shaped sandstone blocks that seem surreal amongst the chaotic ruggedness of the erosion.

After clambering over the summit platform and down its supporting boulders, there is a short descent before starting to climb the next peak, Stob a'Choire Liath Mhor. Curiously, but probably for good reasons, the most obvious path didn't follow the crest to the summit but cut across the shoulder, if you can call a forty-five degree slope a shoulder. The path did return to the crest of the ridge, where the boulders to be clambered over were increasing in size; on the crest was a spectacular ridge – a long walkway of rectangular blocks. From the large platform at the end of the ridge I could what was coming next; bigger, bolder and even more spectacular, the ascent of Spidean a'Choire Leith.

It has the same bouldery construction and steep sides as the other peaks on the ridge, just bigger, wider, steeper and harder. After a good rugged descent to a col you have a splendid re-ascent on boulders all the way; the final clamber over exciting boulders leads directly to the summit cairn, you can't ask for better than that. The top of Spidean a'Choire Leith is an extensive bouldery summit, there is probably more rock here than I have ever seen in one place; if that wasn't enough, the views all round are stupendous. I could look down to the pinnacle ridge of Am Fasarinen, see the spectacular corrie of Mullach an Rathain at the end of the ridge and just enjoy the whole exhilarating skyline.

I had read about a false path off the summit and found it easily; it's amazing how often I try hard not to do something but end up doing it anyway. After starting to descend what looked like a path over the boulders, I quickly realised I was going nowhere that was going to do me any good, and made my way back up to summit. I clambered over and around boulders along the ridge until I could see a path below, heading towards Am Fasarinen, so I aimed for it. It was a long clamber downwards over boulders, there were occasional traces of a path but generally you have to find your own way down, making sure that you take care on the wobbly boulders. I eventually got past the boulders and found the path; looking back to Spidean a'Choire Leith it would appear to be an impossible way to get off a hill.

I followed the path along the edge, although a short cut seemed to be available; I descended a rough bouldery path to a small col, the way ahead looked formidable. I started to climb steeply until I found the bypass path; I was not brave enough to scramble along the pinnacles by myself in the strong breeze. The easy path contoured around several large buttresses, although to be accurate the path barely clung onto the steep hillside with a huge drop immediately below. It would have felt precarious enough even without seeing somebody on the pinnacle directly above my head; the slope here is too steep to get up or down if you are not happy with your choice of path.

After an interesting traverse, I eventually got back up onto the ridge again; from above, when you can see other people walking on it, the easy path looks distinctly exposed. It was a much easier gradient now,there were less boulders than on the rest of the ridge as I walked along the edge of the crags to the summit of Mullach an Rathain. This summit too, has bold limestone crags and platforms of rock and spectacular views along the ridge to Meall Dearg.

After sitting at the summit with the other walkers who had walked the ridge ahead of me, I continued onwards; after a short descent I came to a path, turning left and going steeply downwards. The sandstone on the path had eroded to sand, with being wet the sand gave some grip, it would be slippery when dry. It was a very long way down; I was looking forward to reaching the grass and an easier gradient but after the sandstone the descent was rough, wet and still steep. I lost the path at an escarpment, and had to walk across country through dense heather and bracken before I found a surprisingly well-made path. After crossing a deer fence and the swampiest ground of the day, I got back ti the road exactly where my car was.

© Andy Wallace 11th & 12th August 2008