Getting busy living
Cold summit camp along the 5 Sisters of Kintail Ridge.
When was the last time you did something for the first time?
There’s nothing like doing something for the first time to squeeze all those uneasy feelings out, really reminds you of all the uncomfortability we’re hiding away from. As a young fella every so often on our annual beach trip we would happen across people who would be standing on the side of the road with their thumb out hoping to snag a lift in a certain direction. These characters can usually be described by their scraggly looks, long hair and hippyish qualities. This time, I was to be the scraggly character on the side of the road at the mercy of the worlds kindness.
Having just come off a 2 day 13km hike along the 5 Sisters of Kintail ridge in Scotland, I thought I’ll try my hand at sticking the thumb out. As I approached the roadside I thought, right I’ll stand behind a barrier where I can’t get ran over (tourists around Skye are notoriously bad drivers), I’ll find a spot where they’ll have a point to pull over down the direction I was heading and lastly I’ll make myself look like a happy easy going fella who just needs a lift.
Swallowing my pride and with a big cheesy but not too creepy smile on my face I took my position, thumb out and fully ready to spend the next few hours being rejected. A long stream of cars came wizzing by, absolutely nothing not even a puzzled look from the motorists… Ok that wasn’t too bad I thought.
Along came the next pile of cars just going about their business, and bam car number 3, big white van with a fella in his early 40’s came to my aid. I’m sure at this point Mum would’ve been turning in her sleep. A mere 15 minutes waiting on the roadside…
He was heading my direction so I was in. General chitchat from the weather to what we were up too soon turned to chats about life, where we wanted to be. He’d been through a breakup and moved to an Island 5 years ago, so I could relate. We stopped for a coffee, which was much needed after the somewhat sleepless night on the ridge and continued on into Broadford where we would part ways. I must say at this point, it wasn’t a long drive, and I feel like I can trust my intuition pretty well. But it’s definitely pretty nerve racking putting your trust into the hands of a complete stranger. And by the same token, I’ve never felt like I’ve been in a safer part of the world than the Scottish Highlands.
The 5am alarm sounded, I clawed my way out of bed and went straight for the express morning routine. Coffee, breakfast and bathroom. Todays mission - Start the 2 day traverse of the Black Cuillin Ridge on Skye. My guide Tom, was picking me up at 5:45 so I grabbed my pack and headed out the door.
Rewinding a little here, and casting my mind back 18 months. One of my main goals moving overseas was to spend as much time in the outdoors and in particular gain some skills and knowledge to move in the mountains safely. So I figured why not book one of the toughest ridge lines in the UK….
We arrived at the trail head at Glen Brittle beach, donned the head torches on and set off into the darkness. Day 1’s goal was to suss out my experience or lack there of and push on to tick off as many summits as we could.
The Cuillin ridge consists of 11 Munros (Munro is summit over 3000ft, 914m, mainly a Scottish term and there’s 282 of them) and is mainly formed from Gabbro and basalt. The Gabbro rock with its sand paper like qualities provides plenty of grip year round and the Basalt turns into a slip and slide as soon as any moisture lands. But is easily recognised through its colour and veins in which it runs. Majority of our route was grade 2-3 scrabbling, mostly gabbro which provided super satisfying holds and I grew thankful for my years as a tradie back home which gave me robust hands, otherwise 2 straight days of this would’ve brought about shredded mittens and many tears.
As we made our way up to the first Munro, we popped up and through the cloud for my first cloud inversion. A seriously cool phenomenon where hot air traps cool air below it creating clouds and fog, hence why all the mountain tops seem to rise out of an ocean. Another first for me.
We cracked on ticking off each Munro and we came to The Inaccessible Pinnacle. A jaggered fin like rock measuring 50m along its edge, standing 985m above sea level its the only peak that requires full rock climbing to reach the top. So I put Tom on belay and then I followed up, collecting the protection gear he had placed on my way up. On top we paused to suck in all the views. The Ridge rose above the clouds like the back of a stegosaurus, as ancient as the dinosaurs themselves. The onward route in front of us and where we had been clearly cut by the cloud inversion. Off the the east, peaks and hills as far as the eye could see and to the west, nothing but an ocean of cloud and endless horizon. This led us to our first rappel down the other side, definitely a highlight of the day. After Munro 8 it was getting late in the day, we decided to push on and snag number 9 while we still had light. And boy, were we rewarded. Pushing on we came to a cracking bevy location to settle in and watch the sunset.
Cloud inversion, sunset and utter peace. HOW GOOD!
I had always chased after moments and places like this but had never thought I’d be in one. The world can be so so so good, and I love it.
We got stuck into our dehydrated meals and wrapped in our bivy bags we watched the sun go down beyond the clouds.
Day 1 stats - 17kms and around 2000m of elevation.
I woke to the sound of Tom’s jetboil firing up to make the morning brews. It was still dark, we were surrounded by cloud and no sunrise in sight. Despite all the cloud, we were dry, which I was mighty happy about. Bumbling about nursing my morning coffee, I went over the body. Feet, ok. Legs, sore and tender. Knees, right knee in particular, questionable. Upper body, stiff. Neck, could’ve used a better pillow. And brain, absolutely scrambled.
And once again we set off into the dark to tackle the last 3 Munros.
The first peak was 20-30mins from camp, ticking that off I could see the end in sight, not literally sadly but figuratively. The last 2, Sgurr Nan Gillean and Bruach na Frithe arrived with a welcomed bag drop in the saddle and with 20-30mins of scrambling each way the ridge was complete. Day 2 didn’t have too many moments of pure awe like the previous day but it was nice being out in the mountains enjoying dry windless conditions, a rarity for Skye. And so the long descent began putting us back in the car park around 3pm.
Day 2 stats - 14km, 950m of elevation.