There it stood languishing in mist like a 'still life' painting hanging up in some 19th century Manor house drawing room. This was Quinag, an odd shaped mountain in north west Sutherland, plenty of exposure and fantastic moments, sweeping ridges and unforgetable views - I've done it several times but my pals, Dave 'Colleague' Shaw and Luke 'George' George, hadn't, so Quinag was in our sights again.
Funny how the mountains of Wester Ross are all bunched up like a heaving mass of unfathomable geometry yet when you step over into Sutherland they are all spaced out like island sentinels over an empty kingdom. Well here we are at 8.00am practicing our cloudbursting skills to no effect. We all concurred, what was the point spending a day in the hills with visibility reduced to about 10 feet when we could climb a little known but iconic hill just down the road and give a visual handshake to virtually everything in sight. A wee hill, an arms length short of 500 metres but what it lacks in height it makes up in stature. We had just driven past it and it was clearly out of the mist. This was the Stack of Glencoul. Game on! Albeit it was a long and hilly walk in.
So off we trotted into the gold of Assynt. Civilisation had tapered right down, this was wilderness of the highest order even a linguistic ozmosis can take place as you consult the map - Loch na Gainmhich (Loch of the Sand or Sandy Loch), Loch na Caorach (Loch of the Sheep) and Eas a Chuil Àlainn (Beautiful Waterfall) are just some of the names in a long chain of Gaelic whispers that you leave behind. In a rather special way though windows like this give you the opportunity to really connect with the land, feel its pulse and discern its heartbeat. Strontian moments indeed.
It wasn't until we were crossing this rock strewn cataract that we realised we were on the top of Britains highest waterfall, Eas a Chuil Alainn, perhaps we're not the most intelligent of hill walkers! This may not look impressive on a photograph but therein lies the Highlands stroke of genius - it is well off the radar of most tourists and unappreciative crowds. This waterfall has a drop larger than Niagara Falls! How can a waterfall like this seethe awesome power yet at the same time be impossibly serene? Maybe you just had to be there - well we were, but only the three of us.
It soon became apparent this walk was becoming a little Ingramic, that is fairly odd with unforeseen things manifesting themselves in a large manner. I didnt think it could be possible to be higher on the approach path than on the hill you intend to climb but we found ourselves actually looking down on the summit dome of Stack of Glencoul! From the bealach it was a long stravaig along and down into the glen eating well into our time and energy supplies but the rewards were commensurate. Rainbows came and went as we experienced a whole host of weathers in the same view. We were somewhere exceedingly special - and we knew it!
So after our well earned repast we turned tail and were heading back. But what about the Stack of Glencoul I hear you scream out loud!!! Well it turned out that by the time we had walked up and down the strath to find a way up to the summit dome we had fallen victim to the unforgiving rigidity of the clock. You see this wee hill is guarded like the ancient walls of Babylon the Great, a lot more craggier than what the map would seem to indicate. I did say it was Ingramic, in truth it would be better to approach the hill from the other side on the long cycle track. Never mind it often takes more than one attempt to bag your quarry in the Highlands. You have to earn your bragging rights here!
I did wonder though if the word Ingramic could work its way into the Oxford dictionary of current English. It's certainly in our vernacular... Ingo, Ingo, Ingo.
shine on you crazy diamonds, Marky.
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