Beinn Sgulaird and some wild camping

The Scottish weather is still moody. But having been up three munros in cloudy conditions already this week, I thought I’d attempt Ben Sgulaird.

Beinn Sgulaird stands on its own looking out over the west coast to the islands of Mull and Lismore. “Save this one for a fine day” my book says on account of the spectacular views from the top. Hmm.

I found a lovely place to camp lochside the night before, very peaceful. Given I was parked broadside to a long expanse of loch, I decided against putting the pop top up since the winds were picking up.

Sleeping in the downstairs bed involves a bit more faff in putting the bench set into bed position. This requires some organisation because once the bed is out you can no longer get into some storage spaces (importantly this includes the snack cupboard) and it does involve moving all the stuff I’ve got sitting on the bench seat or in the top shelf of the boot (which becomes the back third of the bed) to *somewhere else*.

The weather wasn’t as good as I was hoping for, certainly not the “fine day” my book recommended choosing for this. But given I was here I thought I’d give it a go. And a couple of other cars showed up in the layby parking for this walk, so yet again I’m not the only overly optimistic soul in town.

The walk starts up a landrover track which OH MY LEGS is steep – no easing in gently to this one – and then picks up a path which goes over a hill, comes down again (whyyy) and then picks up again heading up to the ridge walk along to the summit. The wind was picking up and biting at my ears – woolly hat time – but wasn’t shifting the clouds, which seemed to be rolling down the hill to meet me (or maybe eat me).

I have to admit I was finding this tougher going that I expected – probably because I’d spent my “rest day” after Ben Cruachan and Stob Diamh cycling a much hillier-than-expected route from Benderloch to Oban and back. (Silly of me to assume a coastal area to be flattish). Plus I’ve been on the go for a couple of weeks now between emptying the contents of my flat into my Dad’s garage (thanks Dad!), a weekend in Wales involving 2 hikes and 4 yoga classes, another trip to London to check my flat was empty enough (it was), and then straight into packing the van, driving up and camping/hiking/cycling every day. My family tends to call this kind of thing “Doing An Ashley” when I get stuck on “go” mode and throw all I’ve got into the new exciting thing I’m up to until I *totally* crash. No wonder my legs weren’t feeling too fresh.

Looking behind me I was getting some views out to the islands, and can imagine how stunning this must be from the top on a clear day, though it was becoming clear I wouldn’t be seeing anything but cloud at the top.

By the time I was halfway up, the weather forecast for the top had changed from “some clouds” to just straight up “clouds”. I carried on adding layers of clothes as I walked further into the wet white mess. It was getting really opaque.

I was thinking about turning around and admitting this wasn’t the day for this at just shy of 700m elevation (the summit is 937m). At this point I ran into the family who had set off 5 minutes before me but blasted their way up – can only assume they had rocket fuel for breakfast. I commented on how fast they’d been, but they told me they hadn’t been to the summit – they’d decided to turn around. In fact, they told me this was their second aborted attempt at this hill – the first time they were just 15 minutes from the summit when they accepted defeat (after which they said no-one spoke for about 3 hours while they all silently fumed hahaha). I walked up over the next crest to look ahead (confirming thickening cloud). And my tired legs were making their position on the matter very clear. So at 720m I decided that’s enough for today thank you very much and headed down.

I got back to the van exhausted, but pleased I turned back when I did. I decided I needed some hearty food so I pootled up the road to the Creagan Inn for some venison meatballs and loaded fries, overlooking Loch Creran.

After lunch I headed further North up the coast, stopping at the side of Loch Linnhe where I wandered around the rock pools and sat for a while watching the water. The longer you look the more you see – little fish, some sitting still camouflaged to the rock, and little crabs scuttling about.

I found an idyllic place to camp for the night on a beach looking down the loch out to sea. The sun peeped through confirming this was the place to be.

I spent the evening watching this view develop and wandering up and down the beach.

After a really peaceful nights sleep, I sat for a while with my morning tea and was greeted by the locals.