Monday, 18 September 2017

London's silent hypocrisy

We were in London last week on the day the homemade bucket bomb failed to explode on the District Line. The response to what was a badly executed attempt to explode a badly made bomb on the underground was both quick and on a colossal scale. The PM was involved, there were a series of Cobra meetings and London transport was disrupted for much of the day.

According to reports over 2500 police and security experts have been investigating the incident and a number of arrests have been made. The fear on the faces and distress of those who witnessed, or were in the proximity of the bomb, was fully understandable. However the near hysterical media coverage for the next few days seemed disproportionate and raised the fear level of London residents as did the escalation of the terror level to critical by the government.

Meanwhile at the other side of London the Defence and Security Equipment International  event was being held at the ExCel exhibition centre. It is sponsored by the Ministry of Defence and Department for International Trade as well as some of UK's largest defence equipment manufacturers. Four cabinet ministers attended as keynote speakers although there was little reporting of the event. It used to be described as the World's largest International Arms Fair but that sobriquet seems to have sunk into oblivion following much adverse criticism of UK weapons being used in various global trouble spots resulting in the loss of thousands of innocent lives.

As well as the heavy involvement of government ministers there is high level representation from all of the armed forces. The Royal Navy have a warship moored alongside as a venue for corporate hospitality. This is hosted by retired, rear and real admirals acting as or along with consultants for Britain's defence businesses. 4000 delegates were expected from all over the world with a strong presence from the Middle East and other regimes that struggle with the basic concept of democracy. The weapons and systems on display are capable of huge destruction, incorporating latest technologies with commensurate costs: planes, helicopters, drones, missiles, radar, surveillance technology and GPS equipment. As in previous years there were demonstrations outside the event and over 2000 police were deployed in protecting the event over five days.

The juxtaposition of these two events probably explains why the streets of London no longer have adequate community policing. However there seems scant justification for having twice as many admirals (37) as fighting ships (19 surface combatants), although there are 10 submarines and various patrol boats. The admirals seem to be acting as ambassadors for Britain's defence industries.

The efforts of government, the police, armed services and security services to minimise the threat from random localised terrorists using intermediate technology is a justified but massively costly response.  The duplicitous involvement of same cast of ministers, police and armed services to promote the sale of high technology weaponry to dubious regimes often resulting in mass killings in global trouble spots is a different matter. I do wonder whether the UK government's moral compass has been switched off entirely in these days of austerity.

Tuesday, 12 September 2017

Anderson v West Indies

Lord's Pavilion

My first visit to Lords for the final England versus West Indies Test Match. Lords prides itself on being the home of cricket, it is the epicentre of men with straw hats, white jackets and red and yellow MCC ties. We alighted from the tube station at St John's Wood, it too was from another age with its bronze art deco lined escalators built as part of London's effort to recover from the great depression in   the interwar period. Lords is just a short walk up Wellington Road, dodging the Bentleys and Aston Martins in a parade of the comfortably well off cricket lovers. The ticket touts were out adding a good mark up price for tickets despite the likelihood of the cricket ending early.

We called at a discretely located Tesco Metro for some beer and tins of G&T. Champagne bottles were being swiped through the check outs quicker than you could say Jimmy Anderson. The crowd was a strange mix, amidst the Henry Blofield doppelgangers were lots of young city types in Saturday smart but casual clothes, a good proportion of women, and quite a lot of West Indian supporters draped in maroon jumpers and jackets.

I had not watched a Test Match since a game at the Sydney Cricket Ground in January 1979. We were sitting on the Hill, a grassy slope that catered for the working classes, we had large Esky fully loaded with 24 bottles of beer encased in bags of ice. The sun was relentless and Derek Randall was fidgeting rather than batting. The raucous Aussi crowd hollered and cursed him, we had to top up the Esky to relieve ourselves from the heat and keep pace with the locals.

I wished it had been the West Indians playing but they had absconded to play in the Kerry Packer World series tests. They had killer bowlers as well as brilliant batsmen and fielders.I had been weaned on watching cricket at Old Trafford, Headingly and Bramall Lane. My two teams were Lancashire and the West Indies with the great Clive Lloyd playing for both of them. The West Indies just steamrolled the opposition, scoring freely, and having four quick bowlers who simply knocked down the batsman as well as the wickets. Michael Holding or 'whispering death' as he was known had, along with Dennis Lillee, the best action of any fast bowler.

So England v West Indies at Lords could not have been more different: the seats were comfortable in the Grand stand and we were square with the wicket at the Nursery end. The drink consumption was modest with wine and champagne drinkers keeping pace with the beer swillers. The crowd interaction was more about polite applause than chants and abusive comment, conversations around us seldom lingered on the cricket. The ground was festooned in adverts for finance companies, beer, cars and the lunchtime entertainment was by a band of Gurkhas. This was a fusion of the corporate world with the last vestiges of the empire.

The omens were not good for the West Indies, they have lost their mojo as cricketers and it was an inexperienced team although they had surprised England in winning the second Test. Jimmy Anderson, had already taken two wickets including his 500th Test wicket the night before making him another Lancashire legend. The West Indies were only 22 runs ahead at 93 for 3 and conditions favoured the bowlers. Jimmy bowled the first over, running up with his whippet like approach and bowling in a controlled but menacing style. It was plain to see that having passed the 500 mark he was going to enjoy himself against the fragile West Indies batting. His second ball brought a caught behind. He proceeded to be unplayable and managed a final haul of 7 for 42, his best ever bowling figures in a Test. Even Michael Holding and Dennis Lillee would have been proud of such a performance.

The game and series was over by 4:30pm. We had seen 157 runs and 8 wickets, not the most exciting day of cricket. Nevertheless a day at Lords was worth the wait, a relic of past pleasures in the dark days of Brexit.

St John's Wood Tube station with a better class of elevator

Four slips and a gulley
Jimmy gets another wicket
The end of summer
Game over
Celebrating victory and Jinmmy's 7 wickets

Saturday, 2 September 2017

Ben More (Mull)

A'Chioch and Ben More
Friday 1 September, 2017

Ascent:     1326 metres
Distance:  13 kilometres
Time:        5 hours 8 minutes

m  Ben More     966m       1hr  49mins
t    A' Chioch     867m       2hrs 27mins
g   Beinn Fhada 701m       3hrs 19mins

An early start to reach Oban for 9:00am and hopefully obtain a standby place on the 9:50am Oban to  Craignure ferry. Ben More had been on my radar for a couple of weeks if a decent day was possible and the forecast was excellent visibility with sunny periods. I obtained the penultimate place on a full ferry, the sailing was a pleasure and, as always nowadays, the staff on the Calmac ferries were helpful and friendly. The Sound of Mull is a special place. Our eldest daughter learnt to walk on a Calmac ferry as we sailed back through the Sound from our first ever family holiday on the Isle of Coll. I also have fond memories of sailing up the Sound in the Tobermory Yacht Race and again in the first leg of the Island Peaks race in 1990, probably my favourite ever ultra race. Clement weather and a calm sea made for a relaxed crossing and I paced the deck reflecting on those magic moments.

It is a 20 mile drive to Salen and then across the narrow waist of Mull to the mesmeric beauty of Loch na Keal. I parked at Dhiseig at the start of the tourist path up Ben More. I had descended this way on three occasions but never climbed the hill from here having always approached it by the scramble up the east ridge. There were already twenty or so cars parked at the foot of the climb, I found a space on the machair above the pebbled beach about 250 metres back. A man parked next to me and was about to take his two young boys up the hill, they seemed more interested in playing on the beach. It was 11:30am when I set out and followed the path that was obvious from several groups plodding upwards. The path was suffering from the 2017 bogginess syndrome and, in an old pair of trail shoes, my feet were soaked within minutes. Although it was warm with bursts of sunshine on the lower slopes, the summit of Ben More was lost in the clouds. I kept an even pace to the summit,  stopping at 300 metres to take off a jumper and fill up with water from the sparkling burn.

I was making good progress until I met a couple of munro bashing Geordies on their descent and we engaged in friendly banter before they shot off down for some beer. This was at about 700 metres and from here the stony path is at a gradient that allows a reasonable walking pace to the summit. By now the cloud level had dropeed to about 750 metres. Arriving at the summit was like emerging into an Andrew Gormley installation with lots of randomly placed static figures silhouetted in the mist on the circumference of the circular stone shelter. It was still, a slightly eerie atmosphere prevailed, no one was speaking to each other. A dog was being fed in the summit shelter. I ate some lunch and decided that I was well ahead of schedule so that there would be time to complete the horseshoe to A'Chioch and Beinn Fhada. I began the descent down the steep rocky east ridge. Everyone else was returning via the tourist route so it was with some trepidation that I searched out the route down, visibility was about 50 metres.

It is steep with loose scree and rock faces and lots of potential routes in the rivulets of scree. It is always harder descending than climbing steep ridges like this. I was careful to check all the options before selecting my way down. After a descent of about 70 metres, the gradient lessens and a distinct path guides you across the narrow bealach to the foot of the less difficult climb up to the outlying peak of A' Chioch. It is a classic ridge traverse although today there was no chance to see anything during the crossing. At the small summit cairn I had a rest, another walker was about to leave and headed down the steep rocky ridge towards Beinn Fhada. I followed him 5 minutes later, checking the compass a couple of times to make sure I was on the correct course in the mist.

Below 700 metres I emerged from the cloud and found a path towards the bealach at 540 metres. It is quite a steep climb of 160 metres through a couple of rock bands to the summit of Beinn Fhada but the going seemed easy. I emerged above the small lochan to a pleasant summit ledge of grass and rock. I had booked the 7:15pm ferry back to Oban and even with the 20-mile drive and requirement to be at the terminal 30 minutes before embarking, I had lots of time in hand. I stayed awhile hoping that the cloud would disperse before beginning the splendid Beinn Fhada ridge walk to the north west to reach its northern top at 563 metres. From here I dropped down to Glen Beinn Fhada, it was mainly grass and heather and quite boggy lower down. I aimed for the new house by the bridge, which is where I had stopped during the Island Peak race to change from hill shoes to running shoes for the final 9 miles on the road back to the boat moored at Salen pier.

Today there was no need for any speed so I strolled back along the wonderful coastline. The sun had finally taken centre stage so Loch na Keal sparkled, the short sheep grazed grass and pebbled beach created a mood of serene satisfaction. A young couple were camping, I dropped down and beach-combed until I reached the car. I was slightly surprised, the walk had taken just over 5 hours and the latter part had been quite leisurely yet the walkhighland website had said 8 -9 hours. I had an hour or so to kill so changed, searched for any remaining food - an apple and some nuts - and then just sat on the machair grass and spoke to others as they returned from their walks. I called in at Salen to buy a drink and then reached the ferry with time in hand. The crossing back to Oban was mainly spent on deck watching the sun set over Mull and watching Oban approach at the centre of a halo of evening sunlight.

Ben More and home in a day had seemed a big outing but I was home for 10pm without feeling any effects of the exertions. The Sound of Mull had soothed them away and as a lady passenger had said to me on the deck as the sun dropped below Mull, "we are privileged".

The start at Dhiseig, Loch na Keal

The summit with random pinnacle figures

Descending the east ridge

A' Chioch from Beinn Fhada
Loch na Keal and Ulva island

Beinn Fhada and A' Chioch

Fond memories of both places

Nature's garden

Beachcombing at end of walk

Summer's end at Scarisdale 
Sunset on Sound of Mull

Tuesday, 22 August 2017

Fionn Bheinn

Fionn Bheinn in all its glory
Monday, 21 August 2017

Ascent:      799 metres
Distance:   9 kilometres
Time:         3 hours 12 minutes

Fionn Bheinn     933m   1hr 49mins

Fionn Bheinn is a much derided munro, classified as part of the Fannaichs but detached from them by a distance of 15 kilometres and the presence of Loch Fannich. It sits above the small settlement of Achnasheen on the A832 where the road splits west to Gairloch and south to Lochcarron. It has a railway station on the Kyle of Lochalsh line but its former hotel burnt down in one of the epidemic of fires that raged through old, cold, costly stone highland hotels at the end of the last century. Fionn Bheinn is invisible from the road, or from virtually anywhere in the public domain. But we are not missing much as can be seen from above. Its greatest virtue is as a viewpoint and on a good day there are excellent views towards the Torridons, Slioch, the Fisherfield and Fannaich munros. 

It is a hill that tends to get left until late in a munro round, it is a loner incapable of being coupled with anything else unless you are prepared to drive to other hills and have two walks in a day. This is possible because it can be climbed in 3 hours, I once did the round trip in less than 2 hours but it was rainy and windy and I was so much younger then. On previous occasions I have tagged it onto Ben Wyvis or Beinn Alligin or climbed it whilst travelling north, 

Today, I had driven round from the Aultguish Inn and I started walking shortly after 9am from a parking area adjacent to the railway station. I had changed shoes in the public conveniences to escape the fizzing midges. Unlike the roads in the Highlands there were no European grants for toilet refurbishment but we should be pleased that they remain open. The start of the walk is from an access road to a clutch of barns next to the Scottish Water building. An eight track vehicle was being loaded onto a trailer as I passed. The usual route is through a gate and then a 400 metre climb up a convex scarp slope. I was tempted by a new hill track to the west that I presumed led to a new mini hydro development. I would save that for the descent.

Once on the lip of the scarp slope you are faced by a boggy plateau that climbs slowly towards the uninspiring grassy upper reaches of Fionn Bheinn. There is the alternative of the steep climb up Creagan nan Laogh to reach the ridge but it is less direct and after reaching the top of the scarp you are desperate to get the ascent over as quickly as possible. After recent rains the ground made the description of squelchy seem arid. There followed 45 minutes of plodding along with my trousers acting like blotting paper as the wet patches inched up to my thighs. At about 750 metres the slopes steepened again and the better draining ground meant that pace could increase. It made me think that hills like this should be climbed on cold winter days when the ground is frozen or in the spring when the vegetation is less profuse. 

Fionn Bheinn had yet to appear, the cloud level was at 750 metres so I aimed for the ridge and once reached it was only 300 metres along a good path to the trig point, which is a fine vantage point but surrounded by cloud. This hill was seeking revenge for all the times it has been called one of the least attractive hills. I sat down and had a drink and an orange. And then it happened, the curtain of cloud briefly lifted and I was looking at Fisherfield. I grabbed the camera but it had gone. I spent another 10 minutes waiting for another glimpse and it duly arrived, just seconds but worth the climb and giving me succour for the dreary descent. 

I followed the ridge down and then made a beeline for Creagan nan Laogh, it was a good choice of route with much drier ground until I reached the boggy plateau. I headed south west to a new hydro plant next to a dam and found an easy crossing with the aid of a wire. There was a narrow land rover  track that snaked its way down the scarp slope and it proved a good route to Achnasheen although there was some gate and fence climbing required at the bottom. So that's all the munros in the north finished, just Skye and Mull left now, I briefly entertained the idea of driving up Strathconon to climb a couple of corbetts but it would be 7pm before I was down and the prospect of driving down the A9 for 4 hours was not an appealing prospect. I called in at friends on the Black Isle instead and enjoyed catching up with them.
A glimpse of Slioch and Being Lair on the ascent
Fisherfield from summit
Looking to Fisherfield from the summit
Strathconnon corbetts from Creagan nan Laogh
The bogs from Creagan nan Laogh
New water intake with wire crossing, Fionn Bheinn behind

Am Faochagach and Beinn a' Chaisteil

Beinn a' Chaisteil from Meall Coire nan Laogh

Am Faochagach and Carn Gorm from the flank of Beinn Chaisteil

Sunday, 20 August 2017

Ascent:     1658 metres
Distance:  41 kilometres
Time:        9 hours 8minutes

Blackwater to Strathvaich              52mins (cycle)
Beinn Chaisteil       790m     2hrs   7mins
Strathvaich                            3hrs   5mins
Strathvaich Lodge                 3hrs 45mins (cycle)
Am Faochagach     930m      6hrs 33mins
Strathvach Lodge                  8hrs 54mins
Blackwater                            9hrs  8mins (cycle) 

Two days of dryish weather were forecast in this most miserable summer so I planned a trip to climb my remaining two munros north of Inverness. I thought I could add a corbett if time permitted. I booked a night in the bunkhouse at the Aultguish Inn on the Ullapool road and left home before 7am. It was a good decision, the A9 was bereft of traffic (although a speeding ticket arrived two days later). I was walking, well cycling, by 10:30am. My early arrival also allowed me to attempt the corbett, Beinn Chaisteil. I decided, wisely as it happened, to do this first. I doubted if Am Fachagach would emerge from the cloud until the afternoon and I would have been tempted to give the corbett a miss after the 20km walk up and down Am Faochagach from Strathvaich.

I parked at the Blackwater where the private road to the Strathvaich estate begins, the pedalling was easy on the gentle tarmac incline for the first 3 miles. Before the bridge from where the road to Strathvaich Lodge continues, there is an unmetalled track that runs alongside a mature birch plantation and then curves round to the dam that holds Loch Vaich. There is a weather station above the dam as the track climbs more steeply before dropping back to the loch side.. Thereafter it is a reasonable track that runs above the loch towards the two derelict cottages at Lubachlaggan. It was a an enjoyable cycle with three gates to pass through and I stopped a few times to take in the views. The cloud level was down to about 700 metres so the mountain tops were hidden from view.

I ditched the bike just after the bridge over the burn at Lubachlaggan and found a faint path climbing steeply on the north side of the burn. After the initial climb of 150 metres the remains of the stalker's path leaves the burn and ascends via a series of zig zags to the outlying ridge of Beinn Chaisteil. There are a couple of stone cairns that I found useful in locating the top of the the path for the descent. Thereafter a plod through some heather and boggy ground before easier stony ground that leads at a gentle gradient to the summit that was hidden in cloud. An eagle appeared from the clouds and soared across Loch Vaich towards Am Faochagach, I watched until it glided back into the clouds. I had made reasonable time and had some food, unfortunately I had forgotten my water bottle and I was not tempted to drink from the burns, which were running brown after recent heavy rains.

As I began the descent there were a few breaks in the cloud and for a few minutes Am Faochagach was visible beyond Loch Vaich. It was an easy descent even on the boggy path once I found the cairn and I was down at the bike by 1pm. I cycled down to the dam and spotted a footbridge that would take me across the river to the lodge, although there was a very boggy field to push the bike across to reach the bridge. It was a curious contraption of wires and rotting timbers and it was with some trepidation that I wheeled the bike across with the timbers angled at 30° from the horizontal.

I dumped the bike behind some kennels with noisy dogs before calling at the lodge to see if I could get some water. The gamekeeper's wife seemed pleased to see a visitor and invited me in for a couple of glasses of water and then filled a 2 litre coke bottle with more of the brown tap water. She said it looks like diet coke, happily it tasted far better than the tooth acid. My rucksack was now double its weight as I began the slow plod up the unrelenting slopes of the hill behind the lodge. Initially it was through pleasant woodland but once on the open hillside it was the worst of conditions: black peat and mud or August long waterlogged grass with the added disruption of a badly churned eight track route.

This continued almost all the way to the top, Meall Coire nan Laogh (666metre), where a magnificent cairn capped with white quartzite provided a perfect place to stop and have more food. From here the walking became easier but it is a long 7 kilometres to the summit with four intermediate tops. I met a walker as she was descending from the summit, she had crossed the river from the Dirrie More, the usual route to the summit, a lot quicker but requiring walking poles at the best of times, She said it had been thigh deep and she had really thought it too dangerous. The final climb to the summit is over stony ground that has been subject to soil creep. The summit cairn is a sad accumulation of stones on a desolate flat area. The compensation being the spectacular view across to Choire Ghranda that sits between the impressive rock faces of Cona' Mheall and Beinn Dearg although the view this evening was partially obscured by low cloud.

I had been tiring during the final two or three ascents along the sinuous ridge and I was not relishing the 2 hour walk back to the Lodge, 10 kilometres away. It was not as tiring as I feared, the sun made an appearance for the first time all day and it was mainly easy walking apart from the final 4 kilometres of boggy descent from Tom Ban Mor to the Lodge. The views back to Beinn Chaisteil and over Loch Glascarnoch to the massive wind farm in the Corriemoillie Forest proved sufficient diversion. I collected the bike from the kennels and for 12 minutes cycled at a fast pace, inhaling midges until reaching the car and spending 2 minutes swatting them away as I took the front wheel off the bike and loaded the car for the short drive to the Aultguish Inn. It was time for a shower, beer and meal in the excellent bunk house. A vast improvement from my last stay here one December when we had shivered in below freezing conditions in the bunkhouse before climbing the Fannaichs in winter conditions.

The track up to Loch Vaich
Beinn a' Chaisteil
Lubachlaggan cottages and Loch Vaich
Beinn a' Chaistell summit
Meall Coire nan Laogh
The final slope to Am Faochagach
Summit of Am Faochagach with Beinn Dearg behind
Beinn Dearg and Cona Meall in cloud from Am Faochagach

The long hike to Am Faochagach
Renewables and Loch Glascarnoch from 
Strathvaich Lodge

Sunday, 6 August 2017


Slioch across Loch Maree
Saturday, 5 August 2017

Ascent:           1197 metres
Distance:        19 kilometres
Time:              6 hours 58 minutes 

Slioch                         981m    3hrs 33mins    
Sgurr an Tuil Bhain    934m    4hrs 20mins

The first time I saw Slioch on a family holiday to Scotland it imbued a sense of fear and awe. It rises like a massive castle above Loch Maree. Its steep rock girt summit looked impossible to breech and most of the time its head was in the clouds. We were on the old Beinn Eighe nature reserve campsite opposite Slioch, our heads were wrapped in damp towels to reduce the mawling from the midges. Dad was chain smoking Capstan so he could cook a meal on the primus stove without having to swat the insects. A tin of Hunter's pork sausages and beans was a treat for the family after several days of small trout that he had caught, gutted and served as the main course. Over 50 years later Slioch still instills a sense of awe as you drive along Loch Maree but today it was just another mountain as I near the end of another munro round.

John and I left the rented cottage in Gairloch before 8am and drove to the usual starting point for Slioch at Incheril by Kinlochewe. There were several cars parked, presumably overnight wilderness campers as it was only 8:15am. A week of rain meant that we had to slog along the 5 kilometre path that follows the Kinlochewe river and then the shore of Loch Maree. We had not anticipated just how wet it would be, there were five or six burns to wade across, the birch trees shed water from recent rain as we passed below and the head high rain bent bracken brushed more water onto our clothes. It took over an hour to reach the bridge at the foot of Glean Bianasdail. From here a path cuts through the heathery slopes, steepening as you climb higher until reaching Coire na Sleaghaich at 500 metres.

We were caught in a couple of sharp showers requiring stops for waterproofs to be put on and taken off. In the corrie I happened upon a family of feral goats, there were five kid goats accompanied by their mothers. Instead of insolently standing their ground they scuppered away to protect the kids. At the head of the corrie the boggy path reaches a steep stony path that doubles back and leads to the two lochans that sit below the summit. The good visibility of the early morning had given way to cloud and, for the first time since April, it was necessary to search the rucksack for gloves as well as a jacket. We had a drink break before climbing the final 250 metres up the red sandstone scree slope on a path that zig zags at a steady incline to the summit.

There are two summits about 300 metres apart. The first one has the remnants of a trig point and was the original summit but the second cairn is now the official summit although my altimeter had the first one a metre higher. It didn't really matter as we were making a full circuit of the impressive ridge. We had some food and waited a while to see if the cloud would lift before eventually deciding to continue round to the outlying top, Sgurr an Tuil Bhain. The views from here into Fisherfield can be exhilarating but today there were only occasional glimpses into the menacing mountains on the other side of Lochan Fada.

From this top we found a distinct path down to the corrie, I stopped to text that we were running slightly late, we had said we would be down just after 2pm. I cannot recall the path on previous visits,   but it was well trod complete with route finding cairns that John delighted in demolishing. I was behind him and rebuilt a couple of them as I recalled how much more difficult it had been to descend down the stony slope in cloud during a previous visit. At the foot of the slope I headed for the large boulder where I was confronted by two large billy goats. They gave no quarter so I edged round them to cross the burn and find the path leading out of the corrie.

The descent down the waterlogged braided path was just as tricky as the ascent and it took almost an hour to reach the bridge. A family with two youngish children were making the ascent, the young girl of about seven told me she loved climbing. I hoped that the experience of the next five or six hours would not destroy this passion. The path along the lochside and river had dried since the morning but it was after 3pm before we reached the car park where my lift home was waiting. John was returning to Gairloch for another week with the family. I was relieved to give my feet a rest, they had been in wet shoes for all but 3 hours out of the 27 hours that I had spent walking on the hills this week.

Path along the Kinlochewe R towards Loch Mareeiver
Burn above the bridge in full spate
Coire na Sleaghaich plus feral goats
Kids at play
Ridge to Sgurr an Tuil Bhain
Loch Maree from summit
Slioch double summit from Sgurr an Tuil Bhain
Loch Garbhaig
The path to the Lochans from the ridge

Two Billy Goats giving me the eye

Kinlochewe cemetery and Being Eighe at the end of the walk.