Skye: The Ridge

by R. Harben

We, that is to say, Bill Woodward, Don Henderson, Keith Barker and I, decided to spend the week prior to Whitsuntide 1962 in an attempt on the Greater Traverse of the Cuillin. It was not our intention to try and complete it in 24 hours but to do the Great Traverse one day, sleep out in the hills and the next day to cover the Blaven group of peaks.

Barker and Henderson arrived on Skye early on the Saturday morning and at once set out for Harta Corrie and the Bloody Stone to deposit a food cache, for this was the place where we had thought we would spend the night during the traverse. Woodward and I arrived that evening and on Sunday the four of us climbed the An Stac stone shoot in thick damp mist to place another food cache at the base of the Inaccessible Pinnacle. Monday dawned cold and mist shrouded the summits; climbing on Sron na Ciche was the order of the day. By five o’clock all traces of cloud and mist had disappeared leaving a beautiful evening with the Cuillin standing starkly against the blue background. Over dinner the question of whether we should leave to try the traverse was tossed to and fro and in the end we followed the example of others doing major climbs and phoned the meteorological office for a weather report. The forecasters of Forres promised us fine weather for the morrow, with showers later in the day. There followed hasty packing of bivouac and climbing equipment, food and cooking utensils were shared amongst us and at 9 p.m. we left the comforts of Cuillin Cottage and Mrs. Campbell’s cooking en route for Gars Bheinn.

The going over the moorland with its many ups and downs seemed endless; darkness was slowly encircling the peaks as we started up the steep scree and slabs on the flanks of Sgurr nan Eag, too early as we soon realised. However, we carried on upwards with the ridge looking forever close, reached it at last, crossed Sgurr a’Choire Bhig and arrived just below the summit of Gars Bheinn at 1.30 a.m. Here we decided to spend the rest of the night; even at this late hour there was still some light and, on the eastern horizon, a faint red glow.

We spent a bitterly cold night lying on the hard ground. Though we were in sleeping bags and covered by polythene sheets the cold was everywhere, it was a relief when dawn broke and it was time to get up. After cooking breakfast we left the bivouac site at 6.45 a.m. for the summit of Gars Bheinn. From here we could look down on Loch Scavaig and the sea lapping round Soay at our feet, beyond lay the islands of Eigg, Rhum and Canna shimmering under a cloudless sky.

We retraced our steps of the previous night over Sgurr a’ Choire Bhig and on to Sgurr nan Eag where we could look across Coire a’Ghrunnda to Sgurr Alasdair. This was followed by some scrambling before we were brought up short by steep rock. Out came the ropes and up we climbed to find ourselves standing above the Thearlaich Dubh Gap, the first of the four principal obstacles of the Ridge. We were faced with a 30 ft. abseil on to a boulder platform; from here the rock fell steeply for several hundred feet on either side into the corries. The facing wall, which was 80 ft. high, was split for half its height by a smooth looking crack and above were slabs. We roped down into the gap and Woodward led up the other side; we now discovered what was to be our most time consuming and arduous task, hauling the rucksacks, which seemed to become heavier as the day wore on, up the rock pitches.

The going became easier and soon we were dumping our rucksacks at the head of the Great Stone Shoot to follow the narrow ridge to the highest point in the Cuillin, Sgurr Alasdair. From its small summit we could see the main ridge from end to end and beyond, Blaven. The time was now 10.30 a.m.; thin wispy clouds had begun to gather but these were quickly dissipated as the sun rose higher in the sky. The water which we had been carrying since the previous day now proved its worth as we quenched our thirst.

Passing Sgurr Thearlaich we descended the crest until we were facing Sgurr Mhic Coinnich with its impressive King’s Chimney reaching to the summit. We scrambled up 80 ft. to the foot of the right-angled corner, 60 ft. high and topped by a great overhang. Out came the ropes again; Woodward quickly led up the corner and when below the overhang traversed out on to the right wall and round the projecting rock. My turn soon came to climb and I was delighted to find small but ample hand and foot holds though the exposure was considerable.

We passed over the summit of Sgurr Mhic Coinnich and down its long back to the Bealach Coire Lagan where we were faced with the steep buttress of An Stac. Having climbed this peak in heavy mist only a few days ago we decided that the easiest way of approach to its summit was from the foot of the Inaccessible Pinnacle, so we traversed round the buttress on the Coire Lagan side and soon reached the foot of the east ridge of the Pinnacle, no doubt spurred on by the thought of the food we had cached there. We ascended An Stac by the short west ridge and then retraced our steps for a well earned rest and a meal. The time was now 12.45 p.m. which meant that we had been going for 6 hours.

We had laid in 8 pints of water, tins of beans, sausages, corned beef, rice and fruit. With the gas stove and cooking utensils our meal was ready in no time, washed down by a welcome cup of tea. Due to the hot sun our thirst was insatiable but we had to ration ourselves to one pint of water each and save the rest for later in the day, there was no doubt that we would need it badly if the fine weather held.

From the many possible combinations of ascending and descending the Inaccessible Pinnacle we chose to tackle it from west to east, hoping that this would prove to be the quickest way. We climbed up the short side and down the long, with its precipitous drops on either side. This excursion took one hour, we thought the time might have been reduced if we had taken one of the other combinations for dealing with this obstacle. It was now 2.45 p.m.; from Sgurr Dearg we followed the long easy ridge round on to Sgurr na Banach-dich. There were one or two people about, the first we had seen all day. From the summit we could look back to Gars Bheinn far in the distance and forward we could see Sgurr nan Gillean, also looking a long way away.

We had now come to what we regarded as our most difficult part of the Ridge as none of us had previously covered the traverse between Sgurr na Banachdich and Bidein Druim nan Ramh. We set off down the shattered blocks of Sgurr na Banachdich to the bealach, up the steep crest of Sgurr Thormaid and over the top until we could see the long curving ridge ofSgurr a’Ghreadaidh scything into the azure sky. We climbed therough gabbro until we stood on the south top. From here we could see the knife-edged ridge stretching before us; with precipitous drops on either side we made our way, somewhat like tightrope walkers, to the north summit. There was not a breath of wind in the air, the sun was unrelenting and with our heavy packs the going was very hot. Our water supplies were quickly exhausted, here and there we found snow patches in the gullies with which we were able to quench our thirst.

The ridge broadened out and we dropped into the narrow gap, An Dorus (The Door). Before us was a steep wall which seemed to have no easy way up; going down into the corries on either side did not make us any happier as we could not see any way of getting back to the ridge. We returned to the col, inspected the wall more closely and then found a route bearing right and leading easily out of this difficult looking situation. Soon we were on Sgurr a’Mhadaidh and could look down on Coire Uisg to the dark waters of Coruisk and beyond to Loch Scavaig. We traversed the four tops of this peak, the climbing over the last two dispelling some of the tiredness in our legs. On to Bidein Druim nan Ramh and again more climbing, the friendly gabbro of the morning was no more and the sharp rock caught our raw finger tips.

Over An Caisteal and Sgurr Bhairnich and the long expanse of ridge leading to Bruach na Frithe lay before us. With leaden feet we plodded mechanically upwards to the summit where we rested and could take in the wonderful panorama that is Skye; across the Inner Sound we could see the hills of the mainland. Soon after leaving Bruach na Frithe we were at the foot of the Bhasteir Tooth roping up to climb Naismith’s Route. We had reached the large ledge halfway up when we suddenly realised it was quite dark; not surprising as a look at our watches showed us that it was 10.30 p.m. but the speed with which the light had faded had caught us unawares. Several abortive attempts were made to climb the final pitch but with very little energy so we decided to go down and bivouac by the spring in Fionn Coire. Here we drank the cool water and ate a little of the food we had left before retiring to spend another cold, but more comfortable, night than the previous one.
 
By 7 a.m. we were once more at the foot of the Bhasteir Tooth under a clear blue sky. The crack which had taken on severe qualities the night before was soon behind and we came up against the ramparts of Am Bhasteir. A 10 ft. overhang succumbed to combined tactics and we were on our way down from the summit to the col below the west ridge of Sgurr nan Gillean. Here we finished our remaining food before setting off up this pinnacle strewn ridge. In and out we wended our way upwards, past the well-worn gendarme, to reach the summit of the most shapely peak in the Cuillins. We now set our course for the Bloody Stone in Harta Corrie, where we had our second food cache. We followed the tourist route for a while, skirted Sgurr Beag and could soon see our goal far below. A way was found down the steep-sided valley and in a short time we were lazing by the river preparing a gargantuan feast under the cloudless sky.

At this stage of the proceedings I was to have left the party to collect a car at Cuillin Cottage and be at the Sligachan Hotel in time to meet the rest of the party after they had completed the Greater Traverse, but as the sun was so hot we all agreed that there would be no pleasure in humping the heavy rucksacks over the Blaven Group and that we should all return together to Cuillin Cottage. We arrived back at the Cottage early in the evening to a welcome bath and an excellent dinner before retiring to comfortable beds to sleep off the effects of the unforgettable last few days.