It’s strange the things that mark the passage of time in our lives. Often it’s watching the younger generations of our family grow or simply counting by the birthdays. For me, there are often poignant moments outdoors that make me stop with a start and take notice that life is marching on. I had such a moment recently. The photo below is me back in 2002, camping on the shores of Loch Ericht. The day after this photo was taken, I climbed two hills above the loch and as I climbed up onto the ridge of the first one, I came upon the most beautiful spot. A small lochan was cradled in the folds of the ridge which poked out into wild, empty country. The view was extensive and wide open with layer upon layer of mountains all around. It felt like the top of the world. But most of all, I noticed the flat grass around the shores of the lochan which was perfect for pitching the tent on. As I was passing in the morning, it was too early to camp but I vowed that I would come back one day soon and pitch the tent beside the lochan.
Inevitably a number of years passed without me making it back to the lochan. I’d been away travelling a lot and a camp spot perched at 800m in Scotland needs a good weather forecast with light winds which doesn’t come along very often. But the main reason is simply the inaccessibility of the lochan as there is no easy way to get there and it can only be approached via rough, pathless terrain. But nearly twenty years after my first visit, I finally made it back to camp at the lochan.
With a weather forecast of sunny skies and light winds, I set out from Corrour Station on the West Highland train line. The old track of the Road to the Isles took me a little way up the flank of Carn Dearg but I quickly peeled off to plod to the top through heather which pleasingly gave way to short, wind-clipped turf higher up.
The top of Carn Dearg seemed to arrive without too much effort but after here there was now a path which made a huge descent before climbing steeply to the top of Sgor Gaibhre, my second hill of the day. I’d seen a few people on these hills but when I left the top of Sgor Gaibhre to make the long walk along it’s south ridge to the lochan, I saw not another soul. There was no path except a suggestion in places of where others might have walked so the ridge felt wild and empty. I enjoyed the solitude which is more important to me these days than bagging a summit. It was late afternoon by the time I set up the tent on that lovely grass on the shore of the lochan.
A beautiful evening followed with late sunshine playing across the flanks of Ben Alder which rose immediately in front of my camp. On the eastern horizon, the perfect, pointed cone of Schiehallion drew the eye. To the west a jumble of rocky peaks marked the Mamores and the Grey Corries with Ben Nevis dominating all of them. The thin call of golden plovers drifted across the lochan and when I wandered to the end of the ridge, I came upon a ptarmigan family with half a dozen fluffy chicks. It’s incredible to think that those little chicks are at the start of a life that will be spent in its entirety up here in the high mountains in all that the elements can throw at them. From the end of the ridge, I could see below to Loch Ericht and the place where I’d camped nearly twenty years earlier. I was looking a long way down and a long way back.
The sun sank beyond the Ben and in this month of the year, it was hardly any time before I was unzipping the tent to see it rise again to the east of Schiehallion. As it came up, the horizon blazed orange like the bar of an electric fire. A cold, silver moon still hung in the sky above the lochan which was flat calm.
After breakfast and packing up my tent, there was no easy way back so I contoured round Sgor Gaibhre and climbed back over Carn Dearg. I walked out via its south ridge which is always a pleasing walk. The ridge is well defined and I enjoyed the big, airy views over the mountains that enclose Rannoch Moor below. All the way along the ridge, I could also see back to my camp spot and the silvery waters of the inaccessible lochan.
Fact File
Finish: Rannoch train station
My route: Walked south from Corrour on the track to Rannoch called the Road to the Isles. Just after Peter's Rock, climbed the north flank of Carn Dearg then walked to the summit. Followed the path northeast to the Mam Ban then up to Sgor Gaibhre. Walked along its south ridge. As above, returned to Carn Dearg and walked the length of its south ridge to descend to the Corrour- Rannoch track. Camped another night on this track beside the ruins of Old Corrour Lodge then walked into Rannoch.