The Castle

A slightly late post- (blame- computer malfunction) with some photos of Sunday's stomp up on to Caisteal Abhail, one of my favourite peaks on Arran (they might all be my favourites actually).

The north ridge

I'm bumping along with an annoying shoulder injury at the moment so we kept it easy on the upper body and stayed away from the amazing mountaineering on the Sleeping Warrior. It's possible to summit without too much scrambling by climbing the North Ridge and descending the curving arc of Sail an Im.

Cir Mhor and A'Chir

NE face of Cir Mhor

Dreaming Big: The Arran Coastal Way comes of age.

I awoke this morning to sad news of the death of Doug Tompkins, the founder of The North Face and a conservationist who committed much of his vast wealth to founding National Parks in Patagonia. I only recently became fully aware of Doug's work, when a friend pointed me at a beautiful film: 180° South. I've included the link to the Youtube version below- it's a fairly long film, but worth the effort, so after reading this blog maybe make yourself another cuppa and get some popcorn.... 

Anyway, only this morning I learned (via Twitter from Alan Halewood) that Doug was also instrumental in gaining a big donation from The North Face for restoring the Allt a'Mhuilinn path to Ben Nevis. A path that has profoundly improved my personal experience of the walk in to climb on the beloved Ben.  

It was with Doug's legacy in mind that I headed out of my house to attend the opening of a new monument to mark the start and finish of the Arran Coastal Way, a 65 mile circular route around the island. We'd hoped a few of hillwalking's great and good would be able to make it to the island, but with the ferries on Amber Alert today, it was just locals who attended- but what a crowd came out and braved the weather!  It was heartening to see so many familiar faces and good friends at the event. The monument itself is a beautiful, tactile sculpture made by a collaboration local artists (design and metal work by Simon Horne, woodwork and carving by Tom Buchan and Sam Easson, plus stonework by the Coastal Way Team).  I'm going to love showing it to clients and friends who visit our isle.

The new monument, designed by Simon Horne

After the ribbon was cut, we retired to the Douglas Hotel to hear about the latest developments in the Coastal Way project. My work takes me to all corners of the island and together with my clients I'm often to be found watching wildlife on parts of the Coastal Way. The superb footpath through the boulder field at An Scriodan has vastly improved the experience of walkers around the Cock of Arran.  A similarly ambitious path has recently been put in place across the rough scree under the fluted cliffs of Drumadoon Point. Project Officer Rachel Sedman and her team of dedicated pathworkers (Scott, Stu and David) have done an extraordinary job of uprgading and improving access in a number of tricky spots. We now hear that another big grant award will enable to project to continue for a year longer than originally planned- with more improvements to come.

A new path takes Coastal Way walkers under Drumadoon Cliffs

It's important to put these developments in to context.  The Arran Coastal Way was the dream and brainchild of two local men, Hugh McKerrell and Dick Sim. Sadly both men have now passed away, but I was lucky enough to know Dick for a few years.  A quiet man with an elvish air, he was passionate about access on Arran and although he had climbed and mountaineered all over Scotland, pioneering new routes as he went, he was sure that there was nowhere more special and attractive than his little island. In 2003 Cameron McNeish opened the new trail, although from the start it was always a work in progress.  It wasn't without controversy either: Dick's enthusiastic waymarking with yellow paint prompted a few heated discussions in the letters page of the Arran Banner! The yellow paint has all but completely faded, but Dick's legacy lives on.  Everyone would agree that together with Hugh McKerrell, it was his energy and enthusiasm that was the spark needed to create a world class long distance walk. The trail and its beautiful new monument are testament to the power of individuals who dream big.

Like Dick, Doug Tompkins didn't make everyone happy all of the time. His money enabled him to purchase millions of acres of wilderness plus adjacent land, via the Conservation Land Trust. This was often to the alarm of the Chilean and Argentinian governments, and against the wishes of local ranchers. His vision was vast, and its effects powerfully felt on all sides. The land he bought has been or is in the process of being gifted back to the Patagonian people in the form of National Parks such as the 800,000 acre Pumalin Park in Chile.

Dick did not have Doug's money, but he had his vision, and in his own way was able to bring lasting positive change to the landscape that he loved. The money brought by visiting walkers helps keep this little island economy afloat, and the new paths protect fragile shoreline habitats from erosion.  I know that thousands of people will enjoy the Arran Coastal Way in coming years.  I'm sure that they will fall in love with the wild and rugged coastline, with it's windswept beaches and friendly villages, and appreciate it just as we who live here do.

Abigail, the first snows, and Cock Farm

We've avoided the worst of Storm Abigail here on Arran, with the strongest winds passing to the north although as I type, a rolling thunderstorm is chuntering overhead. Wally and I headed out in to the weather this morning, but avoided the worst of it with a circular walk from Lochranza over to the east coast. It was pretty wild, but apart from some sideways snow on the Narachan (it is settling in the mountains... woop!), and ferocious hail around Fairy Glen, we stayed dry. It was a gloomy day though so I enjoyed tinkering with the mono settings on my camera. We avoided Laggan Cottage for a change, and cut down through the historic ruins of Cock Farm, ancestral home of Harold Macmillan, partially deserted during the clearances, and finally abandoned in the early 20th century.

 

Fourth Wall, Cir Mhor

A lovely day today, and a day off for both of us so we headed in to Glen Rosa and had a look at Fourth Wall (Severe 4b) on the West Face of Cir Mhor. Wally led it in three pitches.  The first one takes the first couple of pitches of Souwester slabs.

The start to Fourth Wall and Souwester Slabs

The angle eases for the second pitch, and being classic Arran granite, there is lots of friction climbing to enjoy and rough flakes to grapple with.  After a full 60m rope length, Wally belayed beneath a menacing looking chimney. This is Variation A of Fourth Wall- the "chimney direct" and the most natural line for the route.  It's described on the web as being unprotectable, but in true Wally style he filled the bottom two thirds with good gear, although the final moves out of the chimney must have felt pretty heady and a long way above his last runner.

Wally at the base of the scary chimney.

It has swallowed him.

It is a scary looking chimney!

Some winter left on Goatfell

Wally and I headed up in to Coire Lan today to have a look at Stacach Gully. We didn't like the look of it unfortunately- we broke trail on the approach slopes through a layer of windslab over graupel, which poured down the mountainside as we released it from under the firm layer above.  A quick dig about, and we established that the endless hailstorms that have hammered Lamlash this week, have unsurprisingly dumped plenty in the hill too.

Stacach Gully is the dogleg gully in the middle of the picture

Plan B was a good option, we headed on to the NE slopes of Goatfell, where ice covered slabs sit in shade. We spent a happy time fossicking our way up through ribs and gullies, and eventually gained the ridge. It was strange to be wearing crampons and to see folk enjoying a sunny Easter day in shorts.  The short wearers are definitely a bit premature, although we didn't need the crampons on the ridge today.  The rock is bone dry and the snow mostly softening where exposed to the sun, but winter is still hanging on up high.

#10: Figure of 8

Oooh me legs!

Yesterday Wally and I cycled the Arran Figure of 8.  There are various permutations, but the classic route involves cycling the String Road twice. It's 111km and nearly 1700m of ascent. We did the Southend first, which condemmed us to a lot of headwinds on the flat,  but gave us a tailwind on the String which I think was probably a good thing. Also, there's no way my legs would have been happy if we'd left the hilly southend till last.  I'd probably still be somewhere in Kilmory sleeping under a hedge.

There was no time deadline to yesterday's ride, so we grazed our way around the island.

#8 Ride around Arran (sub 5 hours)

Today I smashed 40 minutes off my previous time to cycle around Arran, and 10 minutes off my #41 Things target time of 5 hours. That's in the saddle time, because if you can't stop for cake in the numerous delightful teashops on Arran then whats the point?

It wasn't easy, and took large quantities of what should probably be a controlled substance: caffeine, as well as copious amounts of sugar. The darkest point of the ride was probably on the final pull up the final hill out of Brodick, when I realised that after all that pushing hard up the Boguille Pass, all the chasing of average speeds in to a headwind, and all that frenzied double latte gulping, my time margin was slipping away from me and I started to doubt I could do it. But the brow of the hill came just in time, and I set a PR on the descent in to Lamlash.

It's not a particularly spectacular time- but its a big deal for me. I put off my first ride around Arran for years, despite it being a popular circuit with visiting roadies, because as a local I know all about the dreaded hilly Southend, the pot holes, the bad drivers and the headwinds. It's a lot harder than the 90 km circuit looks on paper. Since I set that first time of five and half hours, I've been wondering if I could do it any faster, and this year, have been putting in a bit of training, with double Boguille and Ross road climbing sessions, and taking my mountainbike out in the woods. Today was only the second time I've ridden around the island in full.

The received wisdom is to take on the Southend first. It's a lot worse than it looks on the map, with endless rolling hills, and it's good to get it out of the way with fresh legs.  Nevertheless I nearly cried when I saw Sliddery Hill rearing up towards me today- I'd forgotten about that one and it is vicious.  The descent in to Blackwaterfoot is glorious however, especially with a stretch of new tarmac to enjoy. From there, its a happy amble to the Machrie Bay Tea Room, where sticky cakes await.

My old school bike,  AKA: The Bumblebee

My plan was to grind out a bit of speed between Machrie and Lochranza, but the "gentle northerly" turned out to be pretty brisk, and slowed things down quite a bit.  There is a short sharp shock of a hill at Imachar, but it is over pretty quickly, and lovely coastline to enjoy around the north west of the island. After Lochranza, the Boguille Pass terrifies everyone, but I quite like it.  The summit is a wild and beautiful place, where you can watch golden eagles, buzzards and hen harriers, whilst admiring the rocky peaks of the Sleeping Warrior.

Staring down the barrel of the Boguille.

Brodick Bay basking in the spring sunshine

I was happy to find the breeze on my tail as I negotiated the straights of Sannox and Corrie, putting in some unexpected PRs.  By the start of Brodick Hill I was buzzing.  But that hill is never fun, and from the Brodick side, the steep climb up from the ferry terminal always saps my strength. It's a steady grind after that, and with tired legs it is hard to get out of bottom gear, so I watched my time on the clock ebb away. The legendary Jens Voigt had "shut up legs" written on his top tube to motivate him on climbs.  My legs are pretty chatty, saying things like "Wheee" and "Grrr!" and occasionally "Ow".  Its when they go quiet that I worry. On Brodick Hill they started to feel like silent lumps of clay.  I was relieved to get to the top at last, and then whizz down in to Lamlash and the finish line.

Ski Arran

Hen's Teeth..... Tigers in Africa..... Snow days on Arran are pretty rare, and ptarmigan sightings are even more elusive.  With tales of bottomless snow drifts on the hill and also a reliable ptarmigan report, Wally and I met up with Zabdi from Flying Fever this morning and donned our skis at the top of the String...

Skinning across the plateau towards Beinn Nuis

Not Ptarmigan- Red Grouse.  Close... but...

Once we had crossed the plateau, Wally and Zabdi played around on their skis in the deeper steeper stuff, while I went for a sprackle amongst the rocks to see if I could find any evidence of ptarmigan.  No joy unfortunately but it was really just an excuse to get out....  On the way back I fell in every drainage ditch I could find and face planted every 100m or so.  Skiing is hard...and I have a lot to learn.

Not Today!

Today we went looking for that most wonderful and transient of things... an Arran winter route. We didn't find it..... though it is always worth staying optimistic... you've got to have a look! When it is "in" there is nowhere better to be. Here's one we did earlier.

Glen Sannox

North face of Cir Mhor

Heading up towards the Western Stoneshoot

Looking down W Stoneshoot

Wet!

First Goatfell of the Year.

We ventured out in a weather window today to have a look at Goatfell.  The so called break in the weather was wet windy and wild, but not as apocalyptic as it has been recently. Another storm is forecast for tomorrow.

There was some wet snow lying about on the summit and the Stacach Ridge. It is quite deep in places, and also quite soggy. 

Goatfell after the Storm: The Evidence of Things Unseen

Its been quite a week, between the weather, international and personal events it's all felt a bit monumental. I found myself in a pensive mood on Friday morning after a hectic couple of days on the mainland and as I arrived on Arran, decided I needed a some Lucy time to get my feet back on the ground. My favourite mountain fix is a round of Coire Lan, with the summit of Goatfell at its highest point. On this occasion I decided to walk up from Corrie, and return via the Brodick path, taking in the Stacach Ridge on the way. 

Setting out on the Corrie path- Goatfell just visible.

The sky was grey but the peaks were clear of cloud as I set off. The dusting of snow and the early winter colours gave the light a beautiful sepia glow. It wasn't long before I was crunching through snow and ice on the steep track in to Coire Lan.  I could feel the temperature rising as I climbed, and soon the ridges were disappearing in to a soft mist. 

Coire Lan with Goatfell on the skyline.

There was plenty of evidence of wildlife, with marks everywhere in the snow from the previous night's activity.  I found the prints of a mink running up the track for a 100m or so.  This is an invasive species that has had a devastating affect on Arran's ground nesting birds.  It used to be seen often all over the island, but is now a rare sight, pushed in to an ever tighter niche by the apparent increase in otters.  The fresh tracks proof however that this fierce member of the weasel family survives on Arran.

Mink tracks in the snow.

Tracks of a small bird, my instinct says wren, but the book says wren tracks are symmetrical (?)

Field vole tracks, complete with vole holes.

I dawdled for quite a while in Coire Lan, distracted from my walk with so much to look at.  Eventually I found myself on the long pull up on to the bealach between North Goatfell and Mullach Buidhe.  My intention had been to traverse the ridge with a direct route over the top of the tors, as from a distance the rock looked snow free.  However, on close inspection, and after a futile 20 minutes of tip toeing down the slabs off the back of North Goatfell, I decided to retreat and take the lower path.  The rocks were indeed mostly snow free, but a thin veneer of ice made the going very slow,  and really there was too much ice to proceed without crampons, but not enough for crampons to be fun. I stayed bare booted and took the traverse path below the buttresses.  Even here I cut steps in a couple of places, before rejoining the ridge beyond the difficulties.

View in to Glen Sannox from the bealach.

Mullach Buidhe living up to its name of "Yellow Hill" even in the mist and light snow.

Wobbly icicles blowing in an imaginary wind are signs of the storm of the previous day.

By the time I made it to the summit of Goatfell, it was snowing gently and there was absolutely no view whatsoever.  I'm lucky as I've been up there so often I can sense it even without seeing it- but there is a little plaque on the summit pointing out the bits you can't see if the mist is down when you arrive.

Goatfell Summit

Descending the main path back to Brodick, the snow got deeper, and was lying in little drifts on the path where it had blown in the previous day.  I cannot imagine the wind speeds up there yesterday- they measured gusts of over 100mph in Saltcoats just across the water.  The snow up here looked like little round balls of polystyrene called graupel- rimed up snowflakes that fall to earth from turbulent air masses. This stuff forms persistent weak layers of ball-bearing like material that if buried and can cause avalanches.  Thankfully a mega thaw set in today so I imagine it has all gone by now.

Graupel- rimed up snowflakes

WH Murray wrote of the "evidence of things not seen" in the mountains, this gave him faith in a world filled with pain.  For me, the stories that the rocks and the snow tell about the world give me similar comfort, if not evidence of a divine presence, at least a connection to something much bigger than the bewildering lives of human beings.

Improvers Navigation Day 1

There's been a break in transmissions on the blog recently as its been a busy few weeks with lots of work both indoors (I'm writing for Outdoor Enthusiast Magazine) and outdoors doing the usual wildlife watching, DofE expeditions, plus over the last couple of weeks, lots of John Muir Award Residentials. I'm delighted to be back on Arran this weekend and even better, on the hill, doing an Improvers Navigation course with Helen and Brian. Today was day 1 and we headed up to Coire Fhionn Lochain to look at on-path navigation, contours, map features and timing.  We then ventured off road and had fun in the bog with our compasses, finding lochains and stream junctions. The weather was pretty rubbish, with strong winds and rain on and off all day.  Unfortunately it didn't grace us with bad visibility which would have been useful for the nav practice, but this meant we got some stonking views despite the weather, hooray!

Looking east towards the Goatfell range from the bealach above the Lochain

Helen and Brian did a great job of staying chipper in some chilly squalls.

Now where is that pesky stream junction?

The Big Snow

There has been no shortage of coverage of Arran's weather on the news and other websites over the last week!  It has certainly been a difficult time for Arran residents with a 24 hour blizzard on the 22nd March that cut power to the island for a week and left homes and vehicles buried. Since then I've been out and about most days with the mountain rescue team, digging out people and cars, delivering supplies and checking on remote properties. If you want to see some pictures, check out the team's new website and blog, which has got some cracking shots of the work that the team has been doing during "The Big Snow".
On the domestic front, I am one of the lucky few who was put on generator power on Friday night /Saturday

The Mothership (our local generator)

morning.  I got in from a late MR shout to find lights on and a hot shower.  Most people were not so lucky, and my mum only got power yesterday. Today the process of switching the entire island back to the grid is now well underway (but not complete as Scottish Hydro are saying!)
I finally managed to get out in to the hills today, to see what conditions are like higher up.  I took a stroll up Goatfell from Corrie, via the easy path.  Low down the snow is soft and deep, but higher up where the hill was scoured by easterlies, it is firm, icy and well rimed. Lots of people were on the hill without appropriate footwear.   I'm guessing that I'm preaching to the converted, but if you really are considering heading up Goatfell tomorrow in shorts/jeans and trainers (seen today) perhaps I can talk you out of it? Essential kit used today included ice axe, crampons, sun block and shades.  Alpine heaven for those equipped to enjoy it. Once on the top, I had a dig around in the drifts on the NW side of the summit.  I found two major instabilities including one well buried. I'd say there is a definite potential for slab avalanches on steeper NW aspects up high.

Goatfell looking like a rimed up wedding cake. Stacach gully is loaded.

Looking from the summit to Cir Mhor and Caisteal Abhail.

NW aspect 800m. Easy failure soft slab on harder layer

2nd failure: hard icy slab slid on a soft layer during excavation.