Rannoch Mountaineering Club 

www.climbrannoch.co.uk

Riverdance by Shaz, January 2005

(An Caisteal, Shaz & PUD (Non Members), 15 January 2005)

Prelude

Somehow word had got out that I had wangled a weekend pass and was heading for the hill and, after a week of badgering, cajoling and wheedling from PUD, I reluctantly agreed that he could tag along.

Arrangements were made to meet at Glen Falloch.  My first concern (of many) was whether the road north would be open.  Given that I have been involved in 6 road closure situations in the past 12 months (quite a high ratio I feel, considering I don't get out much), and given that the A84 had already been shut for several days earlier in the week, I was naturally apprehensive.  Determined not to be caught out again, I visited the AA website that morning before leaving and this confirmed that the road was definitely open (what that has to do with alcoholics I'll never know, but feel free to use the sites you are used to, Webmaster).  So far, so good.  I set off optimistically for the day ahead - even the weather looked relatively promising compared to the appalling conditions of the preceding week. 

I was not a quarter of a mile from home when I saw it - ROAD CLOSED.  But how could this be?  I had checked the website.  Then I remembered that there is a very short stretch of road that has to be driven along in order to get from my house to join the A84.  It was this road that was closed.  Foiled again.

I knew there were a number of detours I could try, but not wanting to leave anything to chance, I nipped back to the house to check the website again.  I selected my alternative route and headed off once again…

The Hill

Despite the earlier set back, I made the rendezvous in good time and PUD was already there.  Had a quick map and weather check.  It was a bit grey and drizzly but what did we expect - it was Scotland and it was winter.  Decided to go for it.

We crossed the footbridge over the River Falloch and headed off towards Sron Gharbh.  There was no path as such and it was all very boggy underfoot so it was hard going from the outset.  We encountered our first hurdle when we saw that the small stream we were supposed to cross to get onto Sron Gharbh was currently a raging torrent.  We followed it upstream searching for a suitable place to cross but, after trudging for some considerable distance, it seemed we were to be beaten by this unrelenting river.  We could see where we wanted to be but just couldn't get there.  However, after still more trudging, we finally found a spot where a crossing might be attempted.  The actual crossing was neither stylish nor graceful - but it was successful.  We now had a clear run at the hill.

A steep climb took us up onto 'Twistin' Hill' and we started making our way along the ridge towards An Caisteal.  Conditions by this time were dire - relentless rain, driving wind, zero visibility.  There were patches of snow and ice but nothing the team couldn't handle.  It was with great relief that we reached the summit - battered, soaking and worn out.  It took us a nanosecond to make the MOST EXCELLENT (and unanimous) decision not to continue on to M-point no. 2.

Given the conditions and poor visibility, we decided to retrace our steps and return the same way we had come up, although I believe there is an alternative suggested way down.  One thing that became clear was that, ideally, we wanted to get back to the same point in the river where we had crossed before - at least we knew we would be able to get back across at that point.  Expert navigation took us right back to the very spot, but what was this?  Where were our stepping stones?  Had the weight of me standing on them carrying a 2 ton rucksack caused them to sink into the ground and become submerged in the river?  Or could it be that with all that water rushing down the hill, the river had risen slightly but just enough to make it impossible for us to cross safely at what had been a precarious crossing to begin with.  I guess we will never know the answer to that one.  Either way, we were stuck.

But not to worry….we would simply stay on this side of the river until we reached the road.  This would mean that we would be further away from the car but we could cope with that.  After a very short period of time (hardly any time at all in fact), the penny dropped.  The River Falloch stood between ourselves and the road……and the footbridge across said river could not be reached without crossing the smaller river which fed into it.  But not to worry….armed with the recently acquired knowledge that rivers can change, we carried on walking downhill in the hope that a suitable crossing place would have miraculously emerged from the angry depths below.  Soon realised we were on to plums.

We knew from the map that there was another bridge across the Falloch, further along the river in the direction of Crianlarich, away from the car.  It was our only hope.

It was now a race against time across bogs and over fences (crossed with style and grace) to find the bridge before darkness fell.  Would the bridge even be there?  Would we be able to see it in the failing light?  Why was I here?  What was I doing?  All these thoughts and more going through my head.  We reached the River Falloch and started following it to try to find the second bridge.  There was still some light to spare but not much.  After a long period of uncertainty and anxiety, we found it, crossed it, climbed up to the road and walked back to the car.

Conclusion

So there we have it.  Another grand day on the hill and one which has helped clarify many of my thoughts on hills and the act of walking up hills.

PUD was an excellent companion throughout and I know that his experience has helped clarify many of his thoughts on who to walk up hills with.  A useful learning experience for us both I think.

Shaz

January 2005