Thursday, 1 June 2017

Knoydart

“We should totally explore Knoydart”, 
“yes! And climb the Munros on the peninsula”

This is a conversation I had with Alex about 4 years ago. 

For one reason or another it never actually happened…. Until one extended weekend in May, a fortuitous combination of leave and good weather meant it was finally time to dust off the plans off and set off for one of the remotest parts of mainland UK.

Route planning
Arriving in Mallaig the Sun was out, with the promise of a glorious afternoon. I located Alex in just enough time to grab some extra lunch form the coop before jumping on the ferry to Inverie. It was a smooth crossing, and the cross emerging from the sea in middle of the inlet, slightly less foreboding in the calm weather.
Ferry crossing to Inverie

Jumping off the ferry, we headed out of Inverie towards the hills. The 'take care' notice on the edge of the village definitely lets you know you are leaving civilisation behind!      
Feeling adequately experienced and properly equipped we left Inverie. Time to explore mountain country. Leaving the village we ended up wading through a rather ominous deer graveyard. Still nothing could dampen my spirits as we began to climb. The views back down to the bay just got better and better.




The first ridge of the route doesn’t contain any Munros, so it perhaps doesn’t see as many visitors as other parts of Knoydart. It was well worth it though as the view were spectacular, and give a feel for the expanse wilderness. At this point Alex made a rather foolish bet that we wouldn’t see any other people during our venture, the loser would buy the hotchocolates on our return to Inverie.

Panorama fun on the first ridge

The decent off of the ridge was a little sketchy in places and not as fast as we’d expected. So we didn’t bag any Munros that day.  We settled on camping near the top of the Belach, meaning we’d have a short ascent the next day to take us up to Meall Buidhe.

Possibly the best camp spot ever.
This turned into one of those wild camp spots that I thought only exist in the imagination. Sunny enough to sit outside, just enough wind to keep the midges off and sweeping views down the valley. Just about bedtime the sunset put a splash of colour cross the sky. Marvellous.

Sunset from the tent

The next morning after a leisurely breakfast we set off up to bag the first of three Munros for the day. Throughout the day we came across 3 other groups of people, all in all I counted 6 hot chocolates owed. Win.

Meall Bhuidhe

  With views of the rest of the mountain to come we could see the ridges that flank the edge of Ladhar Bhienn, which would be our final mountain. Sadly, we could also see the rain clouds coming in and feel the first few spots of rain.

Lunnie Bhienn
By the time we got to the summit of Ladhar Bhienn the weather had truly set in. Soaked to the skin, we reluctantly concluded not to head up onto the final ridge, but head down the quickest route back to Inverie. I would definitely want to come back and do the ridge scramble one day, it looked amazing!
Fortunatley the slope didn’t feel quite as steep as the map indicated and after a stomp through the rain we found ourselves outside the pub in Inverie. Unfortunately, the pub, it seems has changed ownership, and was a slightly disappointing end after the two days of epicness.

I am have a Great Time, soaked through on Ladhar Bhienn
My Winnings!

Leaving the pub we set off to make camp. The rain, was back to mizzle levels and the wind had dropped away to nothing. Meaning the campsite next to the sea shore was a breeding ground for midges. In fact it seemed to be the night of the living midges. Never have I been so bitten.

The next morning with the rain coming down we settled into the café to enjoy the first of my bet winning hot chocolates! After a short walk up the valley to find the water source for Inverie, it was time to head back down to the harbour to catch the ferry and shoot off home. I spent the rest of the week at work staring out the window wishing I was still there (and scratching at my midge bites).



Leaving Knoydart, I'm sure I'll be back.
Knoydart, ‘the last wilderness in the UK’, it certainly lived up to it’s long awaited promise of adventure.