A few weeks back I took a trip to one of my regular haunts, Corrour, for an overnight camp. I’d been itching to get out again, and had time to fit in a wee overnight excursion. Corrour immediately sprang to mind, and having had a loch-side camp last time I had two ideas for a high camp, Leum Ullium to the west of the railway line, or Beinn na Lap to the east, and it wasn’t until I was on the train that I made the decision to head for Leum Uillium, and I’m glad I did, for reasons that will be explained later.
I almost didn’t go at all though, because when I arrived at Queen Street the train had been short formed due to an industrial dispute and the train was rammed to bursting. Usually the train splits at Crianlarich with the front portion heading to Oban, and it was slightly less packed there, so I grabbed a seat there and settled in, ready for the change at Crianlarich. I was quite surprised to find that instead of splitting the train, there was already a train sitting waiting for us and we were all decanted for the next leg of the journey, where we went from being packed like sardines to sprawling across empty seats. The decadence!
I disembarked at Corrour and watched as the other passengers scattered across the landscape, leaving me to cross the railway crossing alone, and take the well defined path which now leads almost all the way to the top of Leum Uillium. The hill has a well defined horseshoe shape, and I ascended An Diollaid (The Saddle), stopping on occasion to set up the camera to take video footage for editing later for Youtube. The wind was fairly strong and there was no chance of getting the drone up in the air today. Despite the wind it was warm, and I was working my way through my limited water supply, meaning I would need to search some out further up.
Around 1km before Beinn a’ Bhric the path splits and I took the southern fork towards the bealach where I now planned to set up camp. I would have liked a summit camp, but the terrain here is rock topped with a thin layer of grass and moss, and I did well to find a small spot which was relatively flat and tent sized. The summit was even worse and would have been fairly impossible to pitch on. Having set up the tent I headed up to the summit, and as I ascended the landscape opened up to reveal Blackwater Reservoir, Rannoch Moor, Glencoe with a view down the Lairig Gartain and Buchaille Etive Mor and Beag, and the Aonach Eagach Ridge. To the south, Schiehallion, to the north Ben Nevis, Stob Coire Easain, and east to Beinn na Lap and Meall Garbh. Every one evoked memories, I recognised the hills as much as the old friends who climbed them with me. One stood out though, more so for the fact I haven’t climbed it. Stob Coire Sgriodain sits above the north end of Loch Treig, and many years ago I had done a high traverse from Dalwhinnie to Corrour, taking in Chno Dearg. Under pressure to catch the last train at Corrour we had to give it a miss, returning via the outlying top of Meall Garbh and descending the long ridge of Garbh Bheinn. It’s long been a sore point for me, and from this angle it looks more than manageable, and has gone to top (or thereabouts) of my to-do list. It wasn’t long before I was on the summit, where I cooried in to a hollow in the summit cairn and and took advantage of the mobile signal to call home.
Despite the relative shelter of the cairn the wind was starting to chill, and I descended to the bealach, before climbing up to Beinn a’ Bhric. With hindsight the smarter move would have been to carry on at the Y-junction on the ATV track to Beinn a’ Bhric, before dropping down to the bealach, setting up camp, and nabbing the other hill, saving me having to reascend later. It would have been doubly smart as there was plenty of water up here and little down below. Still, it was an enjoyable ascent, livened up by a handful of ptarmigan who refused to sit still for a photograph, and a small scramble up a rocky outcrop – well, you have to, don’t you?
Back at the tent, I started to prepare for the rest of the evening. First up, water. I managed to gather some moving water from a shallow scrape in a barely formed burn. It would be fine once treated with a puritab – but I would boil it too just to be sure. I was trying out a new stove, an OEX Tacana, the Go Outdoors ‘own-brand’ version of the ubiquitous Jetboil. For all that I might use it I can’t justify the price of a Jetboil, but when I saw the Tacana on sale for £35 I snapped it up, and I have to say I was impressed. With a hot meal inside me it was time to call it a day. Darkness had begun to creep in, and I headed inside the tent and bedded down. Because of the warm weather I had ditched my heavy sleeping bag and brought an old veteran Tesco down bag. Yes, you read that right. A down bag. From Tesco. Well used indoors, it proved more than adequate, and in fact I used it unzipped and opened up; quilt style. Heat wise, I was comfortable, even as the rain began to lash down and the wind howled.
I have long suffered with knee problems, and after my first knee operation I started experiencing leg cramps. These can be very short lived, but intensely painful, feeling as though immensely strong hands are tearing at the very fabric of my muscles, and can be most extreme after heavy exercise. I have tried every “remedy” under the sun. Eating bananas, magnesium oils, quinine tablets, electric pulses. You name it, I’ve had a go. Now, just as I was falling asleep, they struck with a vengeance. Normally I will leap out of bed and attempt to stretch off the cramp, but here, supine and enclosed, I could do nothing put lie and scream in agony. On and on it went, and I cursed into the night. Had there been anyone else on the hill within earshot I am sure they would have evacuated their tent and ran for the safety of the station, far from the murder which was surely taking place nearby. Eventually, sweating and exhausted, the cramps ceased and I fell into a dark sleep.
Next morning saw more wind, clag and rain, and I abandoned plans to return via the rocky nose of Leum Uillium, and instead took a more relaxed journey, back the way I had came, alone but for brief encounters with a few more ptarmigan, some deer and lone Dunlin. As I got lower the weather cleared and the heat intensified, and I returned my jacket to the rucksack. I was glad that I hadn’t tried to come down the other route. On any other day it would have been fine, but due to the industrial action there was only one train today – and that would only take me as far as Crianlarich where the dreaded “rail replacement bus” awaited, so I couldn’t afford to miss it. I pottered back to Corrour Station where so often in the past I’ve arrived to find it closed, but this time it was open and snug inside, and I enjoyed a hot chocolate and a fantastic home made cake before toddling across to the station.
I’ve been up Leum Uillium in all sorts of weather, in sun and in snowshoes, in high wind and rain, alone and with company, but staying over and camping gives a new perspective on the landscape, like seeing again anew. It’s inspired me to return and immerse myself in this landscape once more, to insert a piece of the jigsaw which has long eluded me, from a whole picture which will never be complete. There will always be another piece over the next horizon.
The Airdrie Rambler 