The Rough Road to Ben Hope

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24/11/2024

We had a brief weather window. A dry and windless day between rainy weather systems that we needed to make use of. We chose to use this day to climb Ben Hope.

Ben Hope is the most northerly of the Munros, a 927m solitary peak that marks the end of the flow country and the beginning of the mountainous west. To get there we had to drive west of Bettyhill along the A386, over the Kyle of Tongue. It felt like we were missing out lots of potentially interesting places but weather and the short time we had left were dictating our journey now.

Once we reached Hope we turned south down a narrow single track road. There is lots of work going on at this junction. A bit of investigation found that it is all part of a set of projects being delivered by Wildland, a conservation company that is now managing three Scottish estates. As well as their ecological work they are financing business ventures, restoring old buildings and creating hotels and tourist facilities. It all seems very high-end, I wonder what space there will be for campers, hikers and motorhomes?

The drive down Glen Hope was an interesting one for a large vehicle, the uneven surface and occasional collapsed edge took careful negotiation. At least it was mostly flat, no hairpins or sharp corners, just a lot of potholes and grass growing along the centre of the road.. A couple of times we went through patches of woodland, but mostly we had views of the loch beside us. We wondered what we would do if we encountered someone coming the other way but then realised that the short scrubby patches of vegetation on the side of the road were hiding passing places, the signposts looking sad and rusty, the panels smaller than we’re used to and lacking any paint. Luckily we didn’t have to use them as we saw no other vehicles or people.

We got to the parking spot for Ben Hope and prepared ourselves for a sunny but snowy walk. We were going to need sun glasses, but also thermals, woolly hats and warm gloves. Crampons were packed, just in case, and gaiters worn to stop deep snow from getting into the ankles of our boots. We could see a lot of white on the hills but we could also see that it was rapidly melting. The rushing waters of the Allt a’Mhuiseil were testament to that.

At least the route is obvious

We started the walk following the well marked path up beside the tumbling water. It was a stiff steep start, no gentle walk in, and there was no let up. After leaving the waterfalls behind we skirted around a rocky outcrop, encountering occasional unavoidable patches of slippery melting snow which we carefully navigated by kicking and treading down the snow into firm steps. We could see amazing views south down the valley.

Finally we were on the ridge that lead us up towards the summit, a straightforward walk over a bleak hillside where the thin layer of soil was often swept away exposing eroded rocks of various shapes; a dolphin, a sheep, a shark’s fin.

The summit was reached in short order, it was a really short ascent for all it’s steepness. A summit trig point with views across the desolate lochan strewn wilderness to the cold sea of the north.

The view north to the sea

We re-traced our steps back again, quite literally when we got to the snowy patches. They had become significantly depleted by this time but we could still see the steps we’d created on the way up. The waterfalls on the final stretch were overflowing with melt water so that it felt as though we were walking down the river itself.

Yes, it was the path

All that remained was to shuck off the outer layers of clothing and get Bertie ready to drive back out of the lonely valley and onto the NC500.

 

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