The Angry Corrie 9: Sep-Oct 1992
"There are no boring mountains, just boring people": Discuss
"The first 1.5k is over rough boggy ground."
"Two miles of dreadful bog and peat hag."
"The crossing of the Abhainn a'Gharbhrainn will entail wading to a greater or lesser degree."
"The walk is tedious in the extreme."
"...has few attractions."
"One of the most featureless and boring of Munros."
Variously: "The Book"; Butterfield, Gilbert, McNeish
Am Faochagach: the hill which, reading books on a winter's night, made you wonder what this bagging lark was all about. An unpleasant soggy boggy trog with no redeeming features. Still it was there to be ticked and after weeks of dry weather it might be less disgusting than otherwise. We had abandoned hope of there ever being enough snow to ski up it in our lifetime. Plan B involved wearing wellies for the initial onslaught, leaving them chained to a rock for the return journey, but daringly we put plan C into action, just packing old trainers to be donned for the crossing of The River.
Thus we set off prepared for the worst and found a slightly rough but almost flat patch of ground separating us from The River. We soon reached our crossing point, chosen after careful scrutiny of the map. The River divided round an island: the first arm was totally dry and the second had enough flow to fill a waterbottle if positioned carefully. So much for wading. (Munrobaggers could never do anything as unmacho as paddle.)
A good path then led up a babbling burn complete with pools, waterfalls and a resident dipper. All around were orchids galore, startling patches of moss campion, dwarf cornel with its striking contrast of black centre and white petals, delicate starry saxifrage (OK, OK, so there were lots of flowers - Ed). Larks sang, meadow pipits displayed and golden plovers "told the world of their woes" (quote: H.Brown, who seems to be the only one of the M-b-ing writers who walks with his eyes and ears open). And the view into Coire a'Ghranda between Beinn Dearg and Cona' Mheall was dramatic, nay stunning.
Higher up the ridge walking was fast and smooth with views now to the Fannichs, An Teallach and - from the summit - toward the great wilderness of the Freevater forests. Even the summit cairn itself was adorned with a piece of aluminium rod of possible interest to the aviation archaeologist (aka wreck bagger).
On the descent came the realisation that the breeze which had blown us up the hill was in fact a vicious gale, bringing us to a halt at times. We now realised why the guy in shorts on his way back from Seana Bhraigh had been reluctant to engage in leisurely conversation.
Our alternative route down took us along a broad flat terrace: an intriguing geological feature. The most unpleasant aspect of the day was climbing the barbed wire fence in overtrousers. If this is the most boring Munro, lead me to the rest.