The
weather forecast was reasonable which, given the unsettled pattern and the
rains of yesterday, was as much as we could have hoped for. Yet, this less than
brilliant forecast didn’t prevent nine of us gathering on board the ferry, Caledonian
Isles, for the trip across the firth to Arran once more. The northern hills of the
island still held a blanket of fog when we left the harbour at Ardrossan but it
was a fog that appeared to be breaking up as we neared Brodick and this
break-up was encouraging for our intention for the day was to tackle the
island’s highest peak, Goat Fell.
It
was also the intention to take the easiest, the ‘tourist’, route up the
mountain but Jimmy had different ideas. On board the ferry he outlined his
plan: We would take the bus to Corrie and climb from there. This he said would
provide a shorter but steeper ascent and those who wished could climb the ridge
to find the ‘tourist’ path to the top while those who felt like it could
continue to North Goat Fell and come along the Stacach Ridge to the summit.
This seemed to all like a good idea to all so in Brodick, we boarded the bus
for Corrie.
Around
the half eleven mark the bus dropped us at the bottom of the Goat Fell footpath
in Corrie. Jimmy had told us that this route was steeper but he didn’t tell us
just how steep, or when the steepness started. Almost immediately we left the
coast road the ground rose, and rose much steeper than we expected. Still, the
first section was on tarmac and the footing was excellent. Then, at High
Corrie, we left tarmac, took to a track and eventually found a narrow path
signed for Goat Fell. And still the ground rose steeply away in front. It was
heart-pumping, leg-burning stuff as we climbed with the path and a break was
called for by those already feeling the effort. Just beyond the second fence
gate, around the thousand foot contour, we stopped for a cup and to take in the
view behind us.
Below
us lay Corrie, bathed in sunshine despite the generally overcast sky. Across
the firth lay Bute and Cumbraes, Big and Little, Millport being seen clearly.
And the Ayrshire coast appeared to be in sunshine as well, all the way from the
hills above Largs to the Byne Hill at Girvan, the towers of Hunterston power
station gleaming in sunshine. Yet in the
other direction, above us yet, the peak of Goat Fell still held its cloud. Would
we be lucky or unlucky on the summit? Would the sun break up the fog or would
this persist and spoil our day out? We would see.
How
we enjoyed that coffee break but there came that time again when we had to move
off. Suitably rested and refreshed we set off, steeply upward again. And how
that slope was steep! Then the steepness eased as we gained the lip of Corrie Lan
and heart-rate returned to something approaching normal. We had been climbing
beside the Corrie Burn, watching its rain-swollen water rush over great granite
slabs and gush into dark pools and some doubts had been expressed as to whether
we would be able to cross it further up. To find this out, Robert went on ahead
though why we couldn’t all find out together was beyond us as we struggled on
up the slope in his wake.
We
caught up with Robert at the split of the paths where the North Goat Fell one
ran on up the corrie and the Goat Fell one crossed the burn by a series of huge
granite boulders. Those of you who follow this blog regularly will be aware
that we have in our number a few who find burn crossing difficult. We had the
choice at the burn as to who would walk on up the corrie and climb on to North
Goat Fell and along the Stacks and who would cross the burn and take the path
to Goat Fell itself, but by the time we had encouraged and cajoled the
hydrophobes over the burn with only one wet foot, the enthusiasm for the Stacks
had evaporated from most and, as Davie Mc said ‘we should all stay together
today’. So we would all climb directly for Goat Fell.
And
stay together we did, at least as far as the steeper climb on the Meall Breac ridge.
While most of us kept together as a party that was the last we saw of Davie Mc
and Paul until we reached the summit. On the ridge, a relatively level and
easier section, we came to the ‘tourist’ path coming up from Brodick Castle. At
the path junction Davie C and Allan decided they had had enough for the day,
especially as the summit still stubbornly held its fog, and were for down the
Brodick path. The rest carried on upward. Goat Fell is one of those mountains
that don’t make it easy to climb, saving the steepest part for the last few
hundred feet on to the summit. We came up through the boulders and into the fog
every man for himself as different levels of fitness showed. But we all made it
and found Paul and Davie Mc ensconced in the lea side of some granite boulders
having lunch. We were only too happy to throw down the rucksacks and join them.
And to thank Davie Mc for suggesting that we all stay together today!
Then,
wonder of wonders, the fog broke and blew away and the sun made an appearance.
We were lucky on the summit, lucky enough to have some superb views. Jimmy
wandered around the rocky top with his camera. Ian wandered around taking in
the views in all directions. And what magnificent views are to be had from this
peak on a day like this. As the sun started to light the landscape there was
Glen Rosa directly below, running upwards to the Saddle. Beyond this and not
too far away, rose the ‘Three Bens’ horseshoe ridge and coming round from this
ridge is the jagged ridge of A’Chir and the pyramidal peak of Cir Mhor rising
above the saddle; then rocky top of The Castles lowers above the gap of the
Saddle; then the ground rises from the Saddle by a sharp ridge to North Goat
Fell – all summits above two and a half thousand feet above the surrounding sea.
From the height of Goat Fell the Stacach ridge between the two Goat Fells loses
some of its grandeur, looking rather flatter and less rugged as it rises to the
higher summit and it was suggested, rather belatedly, that this would have been
an easier ascent than the one we had just done. Away from the immediate outlook,
the distant prospect includes the Paps of Jura in the west, the hills of Cowal
and Argyll in the north and Bute, and the Ayrshire coast to the east. Brodick
lies below to the south with Paddy’s Milestane prominent in the middle of the
firth and the high hills of Galloway fill the distant horizon. All this was
revealed to us today as the sun spread its brightness to the landscape.
We
lay in the sunshine and enjoyed the view as long as possible but the thin
blooded were beginning to feel the chill of the altitude. It was now time for
the descent. To say that the descent was a lot easier than the ascent, would be
the understatement of the year. Well, it was a lot easier for most of us but
some of us have joint problems (It should be remembered that we are hardly in
the first flush of our youth and joint problems are becoming more and more
common in the group) So it was two groups – Alan, Jimmy, Paul & Robert
making up the lead one and Davie mc, Ian & Ronnie bring up the rear - who
came down the ‘tourist’ route to the Brodick Brewery.
The
day was now hot and the effort had taken its toll on body fluids so, when the first
group reached the brewery, it seemed like a good idea to replace some lost
fluid while we waited for the trailing group. Half an hour and a refreshing
pint later the two groups were united and a casual stroll across the golf
course brought us to Brodick around five. The two summit renegades were found
sitting in the sun on the patio of The Douglas Hotel having their own version
of fluid replacement. So that they wouldn’t feel alone and bad about missing
the summit, we joined them. A very convivial couple of hours were spent taking
FRT while waiting for the Caledonian Isles to return for the last trip of the
day.
This
was a hard but well worthwhile day on the island with some fabulous views from
the top. We should visit Arran more often.
No comments:
Post a Comment