Stac Pollaidh and Suilven - North West Highlands
This week long trip to Scotland can be divided into three main parts:
Part one: Stac Pollaidh
Part two: Suilven
Part three: The Cairngorms
Stac Pollaidh (pronounced Stac Polly) is an iconic looking mountain in the Northwest Highlands which has a very rocky crest running along its skyline with many pinnacles and steep gullies.
We walked up the east side of it and then scrambled as far as we could, most of the way along the top.
What makes this mountain quite special are the views from the top of it looking across to Suilven, Canisp and Cul Mor. Completely breath-taking, is the only way to describe it.
We then drove on to Lochinver where we wild camped for the night a little further up the coast, waking up to a glorious view of the mountains we had seen from Stac Pollaidh but from an entirely different perspective, which can be seen in the last photo of the initial series below.
Stac Pollaidh from the A835
Stac Pollaidh (612m)
Stac Pollaidh
Suilven from Stac Pollaidh
Suilven (left), Canisp (distance) and Cul Mor (right) from Stac Pollaidh
Suilven from Stac Pollaidh
Ben Mor Coigach from Stac Pollaidh
Suilven (and me) from Stac Pollaidh
Canisp, Suilven, Cul Mor, Cul Beag and Stac Pollaidh, from near Lochinver
Suilven
Suilven is one of the most distinctive mountains in Scotland. Lying in a remote area in the west of Sutherland, it rises almost vertically from a wilderness landscape of moorland, bogs and lochans.
At 731m, it is not as big as some other mountains, but it is its striking appearance and remoteness that sets it apart. It dominates the skyline from Lochinver and beckons those that fall under its spell to climb to its summit. Climbing Suilven was our main reason for this Scottish holiday trip.
But we decided to take this a step further, as we thought it would be quite an interesting idea to wild camp overnight on the summit itself. That way, not only would we be able to experience the magic of a night on Suilven, but it would also conveniently break the long trek up into two separate days walking instead of having to rush and cram the lengthy 18 mile trek into one day.
Suilven, not far from the start point, on the approach path from Lochinver.
On the remote, rounded summit of Suilven (731m)
Camping on Suilven summit.
Looking southwards from Suilven summit towards Stac Pollaidh (just right of centre)
Suilven from its summit cairn (facing east)
Suilven from near summit (facing east)
Looking westward along Suilven's ridge, nearly a mile from the summit.
Delightful little lambs seen on the long route back from Suilven
Achmelvich Bay (3 miles NW of Lochinver)
Canisp (left), Suilven (centre: 7 miles away) and Cul Mor (right) from Loch Roe
Satellite view of our Suilven route (18 miles) facing SW
Satellite view of our Suilven route (18 miles) facing NW
The Cairngorms
After our Suilven adventure in the North West Highlands, we drove 120 miles south east across Scotland to the Cairngorm Mountains, the final stage of our Scotland adventure.
After a brief pause at the Ben Macdui trig point, we would then continue on to Shelter Stone and Loch Avon before an ambitiously steep climb up the Coire Raibeirt and back up to the summit of Cairn Gorm.
We had set off from the ski car park at noon and completed our circuit, getting back to the summit of Cairn Gorm just in time for a beautiful, orange sunset shortly before 10pm.
We then had the final descent of Cairn Gorm to do, and I'll never forget how the last mile of steps, down past the now silent Ptarmigan mountain restaurant to the car park, seemed to go on forever!
Exhausted, we were glad to get back to our wild camp spot at close to 11pm and make a nice hot dinner after one of the most gruelling non-stop hikes we had ever done.
The intention from the start had been to choose a long, tough, challenging route. We had wanted to push ourselves, mentally and physically, walking deep into the barren wilderness of the Cairngorms, always with the intention to be back by nightfall, and carrying everything we needed in the way of navigation equipment, head-torches, reserve food and clothing, to get us off the mountains, no matter what circumstances we might find ourselves in.
Perfect wild camping spot (a few miles SE of Aviemore) with the Cairngorm mountains in background.
Looking northwards from Cairn Gorm (1245m) over Loch Morlich and Glenmore Forrest Park.
In the foreground is the Ptarmigan restaurant.
SE view from near Cairn Gorm
The north end of the Lairig Ghru
Approaching the summit of Cairn Gorm once again, after our epically long 11 hour hike.
Sunset from summit of Cairn Gorm at 9.46pm
Satellite view of the 15 mile route (facing south)
Satellite view of the 15 mile route (facing NW)
In the course of our walk, we spent some time walking around the Feith Buidhe area on the plateau, trying to imagine what it must have been like to have been caught up there in a blizzard at night. There were large patches of snow still covering the ground here in June. In late November the plateau would have been a formidable place to be. Conditions here can quickly become arctic with winds reaching over 100mph. One way off the plateau to escape a blizzard would be to descend the steep side of the Lairig Ghru, but that would be no easy task.
As a poignant historical note to add to this account, it is worth remembering that circumstances were very different back on the 20th November 1971 for the party of Scottish school children and their mountain leader who took the same route as us (as far as Lochan Buidhe on the Cairngorm plateau).
They had also set off from the same car park, at the same time as us, but they had taken the chair lift up to the Ptarmigan restaurant instead of walking up because they were already behind schedule. Their intention had been to reach the Corrour Bothy at the lower end of the Lairig Ghru where they were to bivouac for the night. They were last seen heading in the direction of Cairn Lochan in deterioting weather, about to walk into one of the worst blizzards in living memory.
What followed next was tragic; the group had to abandon any hope of reaching the Corrour Bothy, and they decided instead to stop overnight at the nearer Curran Bothy near the Lochan Buidhe, but the bothy was actually buried under several feet of snow and, unable to find it, totally disorientated by the blizzard, the party dug into the snow for the night, huddled together in their sleeping bags, singing songs to try and keep their spirits up.
However, the storm did not relent the next day and the group found themselves spending a second night on the Cairngorm plateau in blizzard conditions. Five girls and a boy died. They were all aged 14 or 15.
There were only two survivors, one of whom was the female leader of the group who was in the advanced stages of hypothermia with frozen solid, severely frostbitten hands. Although mentally confused she was just able to tell the mountain rescue helicopter that the rest of the group were buried in the snow near where she had been found.
In the course of our walk, we spent some time walking around the Feith Buidhe area on the plateau, trying to imagine what it must have been like to have been caught up there in a blizzard at night. There were large patches of snow still covering the ground here in June. In late November the plateau would have been a formidable place to be. Conditions here can quickly become arctic with winds reaching over 100mph. One way off the plateau to escape a blizzard would be to descend the steep side of the Lairig Ghru, but that would be no easy task.
Many lessons were learnt following this disaster. The bothy huts on the plateau were demolished because it was considered that they gave a false sense of security to those walking the mountains. It also had a major effect on the way the Education system handled school trips thereafter.
It remains to this day, the worst mountaineering disaster in UK history.
