11-12 August 2024
At a superficial glance, this would look like an easy although long day walk – almost twenty three miles but only two summits between 2,000 and 2,500 feet. However, https://www.walkhighlands.co.uk/ list it as a four boot walk (harder hill walk) with three bog factor (some very wet sections) as well as a stated ascent of 2417m and suggest splitting it into two days with a camp on the ridge. Obviously turning it into an overnight expedition means there is more to carry which slows the pace. Walkhighlands information also mentions that after The Storr the best parts of the ridge are behind so I planned to walk off either following a gully at Bealach Beag where a burn descends soon after descending from The Storr summit or, if this looked difficult with a large pack, then further along the ridge at Bealach Mor where there is a break in the cliffs and a descent on grass (detailed in the Cicerone Guide – The Isle of Skye) https://www.cicerone.co.uk/the-isle-of-skye
I set out from Flodigarry carrying my tent and equipment for an overnight camp. The start point for me to be dropped off was obvious with several cars and campervans already occupying the small parking area. I’d already seen an enormous car park as we had driven past The Old Man of Storr near the south end of the ridge so I expected to see a lot of people on both days of my walk.
A few walkers started on the same path just ahead of me and a couple flying a drone near Loch Langaig overtook me soon after. I continued past Loch Hasco then more steeply uphill to join a path heading between the amazing and popular rock formations of The Quiraing and the ridge itself. This path was very busy.
I’ve visited The Quiraing previously on a much less busy day in late Autumn so I turned right to reach the ridge and climb up to the high point above the Quiraing pinnacles. I enjoyed looking at the Quiraing from above before descending towards the enormous and packed Quiraing car park.
Parts of the route were over open moorland but a path had been built in parts to reduce risks of erosion. I felt quite out of place carrying a large pack as everybody else just appeared to be on a day walk. Some ascending walkers warned me about the path becoming steep and slippery further on – “It was bad enough walking up”. This turned out to be because the path area was closed pending improvements and a stepped path with a gravel surface being completed. I was quite fortunate in finding a downward route through the heather and avoiding the treacherously slippery part of the descent. In fact on looking at the new path in progress, the gravel and the stone steps looked much safer than the route through the mud. I spotted one group walking on the closed path – it was tempting but in the case of any accident on a closed path there would surely have been holiday insurance implications.
On reaching the signs at the bottom of the path, there was advice that the route was best attempted in the opposite direction – I could have done this by turning left above and walking through The Quiraing rather than turning right towards the ridge, but there wasn’t any notice where I had joined the path to mention this. The notice also advised that the circular route was only suitable for “expert walkers”; sadly the only people who seemed concerned about this appeared to be a couple who looked among the best equipped and very capable while all the tourists wearing unsuitable footwear ignored it.
I crossed the road to begin the ascent to Bioda Buidhe, leaving the full car park, tourists and burger van behind me. It was like entering a different world. I continued on an undulating and almost solitary walk along the edge of the ridge, enjoying amazing views. Between the road at Quiraing to my camping spot about five hours walking later, I met half a dozen people in the first half hour and then only three more people. These were an Australian backpacker who commented on the midges and two young men walking together and also appeared to be carrying tents. The weather was mostly dry – just some occasional showers and I kept my waterproofs on mainly as protection from the midges which were troublesome at times.
When I saw a beautiful level and grassy area to camp on a wide bealach after Creag a’Lain, and about a hundred metres away from a stream, I was delighted. I was sure that the more sheltered area near the stream would be sure to be midge infested. Although I realised it was likely to become more windy overnight, I thought that it wouldn’t be too bad in the bealach and that the surrounding hills would provide some shelter.
I enjoyed the evening, eating my dinner of rehydrated salmon and pasta, looking at the stunning views and even sending photos of my campsite by Whatsapp to my husband and daughter. Amazingly, I had 4G and a full phone signal. There wasn’t even any rain.
This was the lull before the storm! As the night progressed the wind increased. I got up to check the pegs and guy lines which all appeared sound – the ground was firm and the pegs had gone in well.
I was awake at first light – in fact I was awake most of the night listening to the wind and hoping that I would be able to get the tent down safely in the morning. At 04.40 I realised that it was light outside, there was some rain, the wind was even stronger and my tent seemed to be a bit unstable. I discovered that at the end of the tent closest to the wind, one peg had been pulled out of the ground and the guy line had come off the peg. I dressed quickly and packed everything into my rucksack before taking the tent down.
The Hilleberg video advises keeping one peg in place until the last moment before folding and rolling the tent. This time I kept two pegs in place and continued to keep them in the ground until the tent was folded as much as possible. The rain had stopped and the wind was doing an amazing job to dry the tent rapidly. Unfortunately a shower started just as I was rolling the tent to pack into its bag.
Everything was safely in my rucksack and I walked further along the ridge path – well away from the ridge edge – and soon found a more sheltered spot to prepare breakfast. It was on a slope so wouldn’t have been a spot to camp. I enjoyed my porridge with powdered custard as well as a chocolate bar and a couple of cups of coffee before walking to the stream to top up my water.
In view of the strong wind, which was making walking difficult, I decided not to venture onto the optional Sgurr a’Mhadaidh Ruaidh (peak of the red fox) a projecting peak on the ridge reached by traversing a narrow grassy neck. This turned out to be a fortunate decision. The weather seemed to improve and I even saw the sun as I climbed the next part of the ridge to Baca Ruadh.
A small descent followed and I saw a rainbow. Disconcertingly, at almost the same moment I saw a lightning flash accompanied almost immediately by a clap of thunder and then driving and heavy rain. I was in an open and exposed area so quickly tried to make my way to the lowest spot nearby. All the advice is to minimise contact with wet objects and wet ground and sit on an insulating object – but of course everything was wet. This was definitely not a good place to get caught during a thunderstorm.
Eventually I managed to reach the relative safety of lower ground at Bealach Hartaval and stayed there until the storm abated. It was certainly a scary experience and the electric storm hadn’t been forecast the previous day when I had set out from Flodigarry.
The storm had abated but not the gale force winds. My choices were either to continue along the ridge, keeping well away from the steep cliffs or to descend gradually over pathless terrain for several kilometres to the A87 road to the west. I opted to continue, realising that I could take the less steep way off the ridge from Bealach Mor.
I climbed up to Hartaval. Although there was still some driving rain, I packed the rain cover of my rucksack away. It wouldn’t stay in place and was making pushing into the wind even more difficult by increasing my overall wind resistance. During the strongest gusts I was just about able to brace myself and stand in one position then took the opportunity to move forwards when the gusts reduced.
At Bealach a’Chuirn, I had temporary respite as there was a nice sheltered area. As soon as I started to climb up The Storr, I was exposed to the wind again and in view of risks of being blown by the wind was walking a line too far from the edge of the ridge to be able to see the dramatic views of the Old Man. I didn’t actually make it to the summit point as the wind was too strong so I also missed the promised spectacular views of the Trotternish ridge backed by the Cuillin and the mountains of the mainland. I contoured round about nine metres below the top on the 710m contour line and headed towards Bealach Beag.
The descent path from Bealach Beag looks well defined and there is even a cairn marking the way. However, I became exposed to the wind and didn’t think it was sensible to scramble in the gusty wind if it wasn’t essential. If there had been no alternative, I would have gone on. However, I decided to walk further along the ridge over two small hills to the easier descent point at Bealach Mor.
This route turned out to be well marked from the ridge. There were two cairns marking the path off. Notwithstanding this well defined start, the route soon became indistinct but at least I knew I was down from the ridge. I stopped for lunch before making my way across pathless terrain towards the A855. That was the only place where I had a view of the Old Man. For the sake of completeness, I would add that I didn’t see anybody at all between the afternoon of the first day and reaching the road on the second day – not really a surprise as the conditions on the ridge were abysmal and I would certainly not have walked on the ridge that day if I hadn’t been there already.
What an adventure! I’d enjoyed a superb walk on day 1 with amazing and interesting views followed by a fine evening at a magnificent and scenic camp location. The weather had changed overnight while I was on the ridge. I had expected more wind but not quite that much and there is no way that I would have stayed on the ridge if I had known about the pending thunderstorm. In retrospect, given that I survived without mishap, the gales and the thunderstorm mean that this walk and adventure will remain in my memory for a long time as one of my most exciting expeditions ever.
Where's Kathryn? 