8 October - Return to the Western Hills of Arran

repEight Early Ooter early birds rose from their nests long before the crow of the cock for a rapidly rearranged return visit to the Western Hills of Arran.

Sadly one of the number, Jimmy, fell by the wayside and had to content himself with watching MV Caledonian Isles sailing off into the distance from the quayside at Ardrossan.

And so it was that aboard ship, Davie, Rex, Paul, Alan (Sim), Johnny, Ian and Bob watched the sun rise over Kilwinning whilst consuming copious quantities of bacon rolls and fried egg rolls.

Goatfell looked magnificent, standing cloud-free in the early morning sunlight. It promised to be a great day

The bus journey around the island yielded spectacular views across the Firth and across Kilbrandon Sound in the early morning sunlight, and several photographers were spotted on the shore, along with many heron and seals.

We arrived at the starting point for the walk at around 9 am. Thundergay…or was it?. Even within the small clachan we noted various spellings on gates and doors – Thundergay, Thunderguy and even a compromise Thunderguay.

After the rains of Tuesday the burn pouring out of Coire Fhionn Lochan was in spate and our thoughts turned to the final obstacle on the walk, Allt Gobhlach, which had been a not insubstantial watercourse when we encountered it on our earlier visit.

At almost the same spot where we had seen the golden eagle in June we were treated to a close-up view of an immature female golden eagle circling and calling above our heads. Stopping for a breather on the climb to the lochan we noticed that two naval vessels sailing down Kilbrandon Sound had been transformed – when we had seen them from the bus they appeared white in the early morning sun: now they were grey. We wondered if top secret camouflage paint was being tested.

The lochan was reached by 10 o’clock so naturally we stopped for elevenses. Johnny took the opportunity to test out his cricketing arm by throwing sticks quite alarming distances for Holly to retrieve from the lochan. And although we were still in sunlight ominous clouds loured over the horseshoe of hills we were seated beneath.



Excelsior (ask Davie!). As we turned to climb the shoulder of Beinn Bhreac at the head of the lochan we were greeted by the first rain of the day. At around 400 metres we entered the clouds and that’s where we remained until we descended to the same level at the end of the walk. Occasionally we would be treated to brief glimpses of Kilbrandon Sound, Loch Tanna or Iorsa Water but for most of the day the view would be of mist.

On the way up the shoulder, those in the vanguard were treated to a view of a fine stag and three hinds scurrying through the mist. Davie, using his boy scout training, soon located their hoof prints in the mud.




We reached the first ‘summit’ in thick mist, convinced we had conquered Beinn Bhreac.

At this point Davie had a temporary navigational malfunction. He headed off west followed by the more trusting in the group – after all he had done the walk just a couple of weeks earlier! Rex and Paul had their doubts and consulted their GPSes (what’s the plural of GPS?). Having decided that a) we were not atop Beinn Bhreac, and b) even if we were we shouldn’t be heading west, the said technophiles went in pursuit of the group and halted them before they became altitudinally-challenged. After more consultation of the GPS we retraced our steps to somewhere close to the point where we had deviated from our route, and following a course dictated by the GPS we picked up the correct path again.

And so we really did reach Beinn Bhreac …even if Davie did initially think we were now atop Beinn Bharrain Lunch was taken at around midday. With the mist still down and light rain in the air we didn’t prolong our lunch break, particularly as we were mindful of the fact that we would need to push on if we were to catch the 3.20 bus at Pirnmill.

The GPS was set for the next target – the col between Beinn Bhreac and Mullach Buidhe. This was reached without incident, but as we approached the col the next summit loomed out of the mist, revealing a steep 500 foot climb up its grassy slopes.

We were all together at the col, but soon we were strung out along the incline. Tearing away in front was Rex, legs and sticks awhirr. In second place was Davie, but even he could only watch as Rex disappeared into the mist. Holly, of course, stayed with the leader.

Eventually we all gathered at the trig point, the highest point of our day at 721 metres … well all apart from Rex who had gone off ahead in search of the cap he had lost on our previous visit! Various suggestions as to the nature of the sentimental value of this headwear were made by those left behind. Rex returned, without the cap, and down and up we went again through the wind-sculptured rock formations to the top of Beinn Bharrain.

In the mist, the start of the descent was not obvious, but Davie redeemed himself by identifying it. Time was racing on, and getting the 3.20 bus was far from a certainty. The descent was made quickly and soon we were under the clouds and could savour again the sunny day that the rest of the country was enjoying. A distant ‘bark’ drew our eyes to possibly the same stag and hinds we had seen earlier. They chased across the boggy ground ahead of us and over Allt Gobhlach; our final obstacle.

Bob, knowing that Paul is a little wary of water crossings, invited him to cross at spot he had identified. Bob went first and by a miracle narrowly avoided splashing head first into the burn.

Paul was not encouraged by this. He decided to look at the crossing Davie had identified and after more than a little hesitation he joined the rest of the group on the other side.

Now it was a race against the clock. We hardly had time to admire the waterfall and the ravine as we sped down the hillside. On our previous visit we had lost our way near the end of the walk and had to cross potato fields to reach the road. This time we crossed the large stile and we were at the road in no time – ten minutes ahead of the bus.

Phew!

The return bus journey was notable for the large number of deer we spotted grazing on the slopes between Lochranza and Sannox, and for Davie’s conversation with a passenger who had chosen to stay in Cumnock for his holidays!

A weary group boarded the boat for the return journey and a few refreshments were consumed. The consensus was that it had been a testing day, but satisfaction was expressed that we had conquered the beast!

Meanwhile the Ochils sparkled under a cloudless sky....possibly.

Click for route (including detour and the view you missed: