We were treated to spectacular views across Loch Quoich to the mountains of Knoydart throughout our ascent of Sgurr a Mhaoraich but even those could not compare to what unfolded before us the moment we set foot on the summit.
One of the challenges for a Munro Bagger - someone who climbs Scotland's mountains over 3,000ft - is that the more mountains you summit, the further you must travel to reach ones you haven't climbed. On the flip side, the reward for long hours of driving into the remote Highlands of Scotland is that the scenery is often breath taking. Yesterday my brother, Abel and I headed for loch Quoich, a reservoir to the west of the Caledonian Canal, to head for the summit of Sgurr a Mhaoraich (Peak of the shellfish). A fine sunny autumn day, we relished the thought of the amazing views we would get looking across Loch Quoich to the mountains of Knoydart. Little did we know that these were nothing compared to what we would see on the summit.
For sure, the views looked amazing on a clear sunny morning as we parked up and got ready to head into the hills. A friendly herd of Highland Cattle spent the day wandering the tiny road by the loch side and we had the pleasure of meeting them up close as they wandered by to see what we were up to.
Sgurr a Mhaoraich is ascended via a very well laid out and constructed stalkers path which rarely gets very steep. The ascent is relentless and despite the easy gradient, you soon gain height, and the views open up nicely. Soon, we were looking across to the mountains of Knoydart dipping in and out of the clouds as we went. I have to say, my first view of the summit we were headed to had me somewhat apprehensive when I first saw it. It looked steep, high up and far away. Lower down it actually looks like a separate far-off mountain.
We climbed n up through fairly open ground until we reached a high point called Sgurr Coir nan Eiricheallach and found ourselves at one end of a spectacular ridge which connected us to the summit of the mountain. With rocky sheer drops to our right and the mountain sloping away to our left we slowly traversed the crest of the ridge towards a pinnacle at the far end that would take us onto the summit. You never summit a Munro without putting in an effort somewhere along the route and the main push for us came at the summit end of the ridge we had just crossed. Steep, near vertical climbing was required to cut across the front of a huge rocky pinnacle on which the summit of Sgurr a Mhaoraich stood. There was some exposure as the ground dropped away behind us far into the valley below.
At last, after a final steep traverse along a narrow path, the summit cairn was before us, and we made our way towards it.
On the very moment we set foot on the summit cairn of Sgurr a Mhaoraich, the views changed dramatically, and it was almost as though we had just stepped through a portal into another world.
Looking Northwest from the Summit Cairn the far-off mountain range containing the Munros on the Isle of Skye lined the horizon. Before them, back here on the mainland, the summit of Beinn Sgritheall almost pointed the way north. Panning right, some of the south coast of Skye and then the northern extent of the Knoydart mountains.
Abel and I stood stunned by the beauty before us. So much so that we quite forgot to pose for the summit selfie. That ended up happening after lunch before the start of the descent. In the meantime, we clambered slightly below and past the summit cairn to find some shelter from the freezing winter wind that was gusting around us. Before a view that could only grace Scotsmen, mountaineers, adventurers, and angels, I tucked into a cheese and ham roll, some jellybeans, and a cup of mint tea.
Eventually we tore ourselves away from the view and started our descent back the way we came. A few hours later, we were back at our car on the shore of Loch Quoich among the resident Highland Cattle. As things turned out, they lead us away from the Lochside and out towards our way home. As we crawled along behind them in our 'Cattle Jam' the sun began to set. Finally, past the cattle, deer darted from the roadside into the beautiful and darkening sky. None of this was unusual for an evening in the Scottish Highlands yet you could never call it typical. No matter how many times you take in these scenes, they always take your breath away.
