The Black Cuillin of Skye – Sgurr nan Eag & Sgurr Dubh Mor

The Cuillin Ridge From Sgurr Dubh Mor

The 2 southernmost Munros on the Skye Ridge make for a long day but can – under the right conditions – give memorable views. Northwards, the Skye ridge snakes its sinuous way towards Sgurr nan Gillean whilst to the east, Bla Bheinn stands in splendid isolation leading the eye towards the Munros of Knoydart. Out to sea, beyond the nearer islands of Rum, Eigg and Canna, you can see South Uist and Barra and the other islands of the Outer Hebrides.

The Island of Rum (on a very good day)!

This week gave mixed conditions on Skye with four-seasonal weather making its presence felt. Wind, rain and hail mingled with clear skies and sunshine (not in the most favourable of proportions) to ensure the weather was anything but boring. Unfortunately for my battle-hardened aspirant Munroists from Dalkeith, by the time they arrived to tackle their penultimate Skye Munros all the variety had gone out of the weather and it was low cloud and rain almost all the way!

Coir a'Ghrunnda

A family of red deer were taking a dip in the River Brittle and eyed me passively as I drove down to the Glen Brittle road-end. From here we donned waterproofs and set out along the well-constructed path that leads in an hour to the concealed entrance to Coir a’Ghrunnda. Here, Maggie wisely decided that discretion was the greater part of valour and courageously decided to return to the car and pursue alternative activities for the remainder of the day. Geoff donned his fetching grape-coloured cap as we turned north and climbed into the corrie. We followed the sketchy and at times indeterminate path that climbs up some scree, across a boulder field and up 2 rock bands before reaching the impressive Loch Coir a’Ghrunnda, a blue sheet cradled in a rocky amphitheatre which remains hidden until the last moment.

Sgurr Alasdair Towers Above Loch Coir a'Ghrunnda

Naturally, most of the finer details of this spectacular location were not so evident today! From the loch a fairly steep 180m climb up a stony slope puts you on the ridge line and a further 10 mins of fairly level ground leads to the conspicuous summit cairn of Sgurr nan Eag (924m; notched peak). No view today of course but those visiting on a good day will want to linger long and take in the wide and impressive panorama.

Sgurr nan Eag - Summit Pic!

The route on to Sgurr Dubh Mor leads back the way you came until half way down the stony slope when you bear right on to the ridge itself and traverse along below the rock pillar of Caisteal a’Garbh-choire (the castle of the rough corrie) which is best avoided to the right. Here, much evidence of pyroclastic volcanic activity suggests this was not a spot to be standing 60 million years ago when the future use of Skye as a mountaineering mecca was being established! Whilst Jackie and Charles set about devouring their comprehensive collection of continental cheeses (and I tucked into my pasty) the clouds briefly cleared to show us Loch Coruisk far below where the Bella Jane from Elgol was entertaining its passengers by drawing tight circles with her wake in the emerald coloured waters. After lunch further climbing – more like entertaining seaside scrambling – for 20 mins brought us to the summit of Sgurr Dubh na Da Bheinn (944m; black peak of the two mountains).

Sgurr Dubh na Da Bheinn From Sgurr Dubh Mor

Here, as I so ably demonstrated to my windswept and interested clients, holding a magnetic compass close to the summit rock can give a significant deflection of the needle. From here we descended through the murk along the outlying ridge to our second Munro.

Scrambling Up Sgurr Dubh Mor

Whilst this summit lies only 200m off the main ridge and requires only 50m descent and re-ascent to achieve, route finding here is difficult in the clearest of conditions. In mist it can be treacherous so take care and know what you’re doing. Deftly we picked our way down, along and up snaking our way over and around the various cliffs, crags and crevices that seek to hinder your progress to the top. And then suddenly we were there atop this peskiest of Cuillin Munros that really does try to make things difficult for you: Sgurr Dubh Mor (979m; big black rocky peak). Again, no view. Sorry folks; you should have been here yesterday!

Distant Sgurr nan Gillean From Sgurr Dubh Mor

We retraced our steps down, along and back up to Sgurr Dubh na Da Bheinn wisely deciding not to repeat the compass trick as the novelty had no doubt worn off in the rain! We traversed north along the ridge a few hundred metres before turning left and returning down into Coir a’Ghrunnda. We paused once more at the loch before descending back to Glen Brittle where we knew Maggie, the cars, some lightly sautéed potatoes and a glass of ale would serve as a fitting end to our day in the clouds.

Check out my future plans for similar walks on: http://www.hillways.co.uk/summer/summer.htm

Return to Skye - Black Cuillin

Cuillin Ridge - Southern Section

Early June saw good weather this year in the NW Highlands and on Skye. Fair weather and a brisk wind dried out the Cuillin Ridge and made for excellent walking, scrambling and climbing conditions. Dr Darren was kept busy with a steady stream of clients and I went along to see the great man at work guiding Frank over the southern part of the Ridge on a day encompassing 4 Munros and an infamous rock climbing obstacle!

Starting from the Glen Brittle campsite on a gorgeous morning, we had only been walking about 15 minutes when Darren declared a snake in the grass – an adder! Sure enough, there at our feet silently weaving its sinuous way across the path and into the grass was a living breathing example of Britain’s only poisonous snake! Having failed to persuade the good Doctor to pick the thing up so we could get a decent photo, it was left to Frank and I to snap away as it made its escape. Our best effort is here:

Adder! (you'll have to use your zoom to see it)!

After all this excitement the rest of the walk up and into Coir’ a’ Ghrunnda had only the Doctor’s erudite observations on dubious geological titbits or even more dubious looking climbs to entertain us. Frank and I did our best to look interested whilst dreaming silently of joining the Ramblers Association! Fortunately, those strange thoughts soon passed and before we could tie a map-case around our necks we found ourselves imparting some route-finding advice to some (very pretty) European neighbours who were unsure of the best way through the rock landscape. Then it was up to the lochan high in the corrie, pausing at the ‘ringing rocks’, a hollow sounding igneous rock which lets out a surprising musical ‘ting’ when tapped. A short, steep climb took us up on to the ridge itself and a short walk led to the first Munro: Sgurr nan Eag (Notched Peak, 924m).

After surveying the wide expanse of sunlit sea and islands to the south and west, not to mention the distant peaks of Knoydart and Kintail, we commenced our hours of joyful scrambling up and down and along this finest of all British mountain ridges. Copious use of the hands and arm muscles do take some of the strain off your legs but it is still hard and thirsty work and the rough rock (great for grip) takes its toll on soft hands and fingertips. Cuillin Finger can stay with you for days if you aren’t a regular member of a chain gang! Retracing our steps and continuing along the ridge, we contoured around the rock tower of Caisteal and climbed steadily up to the musically sounding Sgurr Dubh na Da Bheinn (sounds like Sgurr Doo na Darven; Black Peak of the Two Mountains, 938m). Here we had to leave the main ridge for a short detour to capture the second Munro of the day: Sgurr Dubh Mor (Big Black Peak,944m). The latter is only 6m higher than its sibling on the main ridge but its best not to dwell on such statistics as you spend the best part of an hour clambering down from the ridge and up a series of complicated terraces and gulleys to capture the Munro – before going all the way back again!

Last Smile Before the TD Gap!

This minor inconvenience, however, was nothing compared to the fiendish Doctor’s next treat. A little way north of Sgurr Dubh na Da Bheinn, and without any prior warning whatsoever, one’s confident progress along the ridge is abruptly halted by a deep gash of what looks suspiciously like fresh air in front of you. This is the infamous Thearlaich-Dubh Gap (usually referred to as the TD Gap).

The south side of this ‘challenge’ (you can guess who called it that) is a 30’ vertical wall whilst the northern side stretches to 80’ and is just as vertical! I looked at Frank, Frank looked at me; nobody looked at the Doctor! It didn’t matter, he was quite intent on forcing us to take up religion (it didn’t last) as he set up his belay to lower us down into this horrendous looking defile. Once down, the way up the other side looked just as improbable (sorry, impossible) as it had done from the top of the southern wall. The next 45 mins was a bit of a blur but largely consisted of me sitting in this cold, damp and very dismal wind tunnel as McAulay hustled his way up the smooth-sided chimney groove that represents the escape route out of this charmless spot.

Climbing Out of the TD Gap

It’s not a pretty climb even by an expert (none of those around from what I could see) but eventually his nibs announced success. Having set up a belay, he then coaxed, cajoled, tempted and otherwise bullied poor Frank up the same polished rock whilst I slowly succumbed to hypothermia. Regrettably, I was still alive – just – when it was my turn to scamper up after them! I’m not sure if scamper accurately describes the Gault patent method of chimney groove climbing technique. Sufficient to say that after a series of huffs, puffs and fairly inglorious scrabbling for spitefully placed handholds and out-of-sight footholds, I was up and back into the land of sunshine and horizontality!

Sgur Alasdair

The ascent of Skye’s highest peak was always going to be a doddle after this and sure enough, a short walk from the TD Gap brought all 3 of us to the Cuillin’s highest point: Sgurr Alasdair (Alexander’s Peak, 993m). On a good day you can see St Kilda from here way out in the Atlantic to the north-west. Ben Nevis, in the other direction, appears to be almost a close neighbour in comparison. Alasdair is a fine sharp-pointed summit with dramatic close-up views down into Coire Lagan to complement the impressive distant landmarks. The Inaccessible Pinnacle of Sgurr Dearg is in clear view now, its wafer-thin vertical wedge of rock inviting those who have survived the TD Gap towards their next big adventure!

Innaccessible Pinnacle

From Sgurr Alasdair we descended to the top of the Great Stone Shoot – a popular, if unappealing loose-scree route up and down this mountain – before traversing over Sgurr Thearlaich (Charlie’s Peak, 977m). Not a Munro, but nevertheless a fine roof-top summit ridge best done (as I have always done it) in warm, early evening sunshine. A complicated scramble leads down from the end of the roof to a small break in the ridge before the final Munro of our day: Sgurr Mhic Coinnich (Mackenzie’s Peak, 948m). This peak can either be tackled directly up another of those improbable-looking chimney-corners or, as Frank and I chose, by the much more pleasing traverse along Collie’s Ledge before doubling back along the ridge to the summit.

Collie's Ledge

All we had to do then was carefully weave our way down into Coire Lagan before striding manfully off into the setting sun and the green fields of Glen Brittle. The day took almost 11 hours which illustrates how deceptive the Cuillin can be. The distances may not be great, but everything takes time and throw in some rock climbing and associated ropework, and you know you’re going to have to rush for your steak and chips and celebratory dram of Talisker at the Old Inn in Carbost!

Sgurr Mhic Coinnich and Sgurr Alasdair From Glen Brittle

Check out my future plans for similar walks on: http://www.hillways.co.uk/summer/summer.htm