Carn Dearg from Corrour

Carn Dearg from Corrour

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Carn Dearg from Corrour Details

Carn Dearg from Corrour Station – originally posted on the Walk Eryri Blog a few years back.

Arriving on the sleeper at Corrour, i had managed to sleep much better this time thank you. An easy walk was all i wanted though, and the easiest walk left was that up Carn Dearg (and Sgorr Gailbhre). I was particularly keen for a straightforward walk as there was a sprinkling of snow at the station, which would be surely much deeper at Munro height. After the usual bimble to the Youth Hostel where i managed to offload most of my gear, the path sets off ominously across some boggy ground directly opposite.

After my previous experiences, this worried me. It needn’t have. This is as boggy as the track gets as you pull up past a couple of other muddy bits to the memorial stone known as Peter’s Rock. This is apparently a memorial to a local lad who tragically fell through the ice according to someone I met in the hostel last time.

Ahead, there’s a’n unimpressive grassy slope. It’s wet, but not so much that it’ll suck off your boots like the opposite side of Corrour Station. There’s no path, or at least, I didn’t see the path (definately not the same thing). Just head on a rough bearing to the wide ridge across rough ground that becomes a pleasant high walk once the ridge is attained.

Today there was knee deep snow on the ridge. This was heavy going, but infinately more pleasureable than the greasy slush lower down. There was even the need (barely) for the crampons to get some snow time, especially on the nicely packed summit snow. Feeling lazy, I decided that one Munro is enough in one day and headed on back in roughly the same direction i came from.

Newly armed with crampons I decided to follow the snow, most of which was grippy and ideal for crampons. Further down, the snow became deeper and softer. I kept losing lower limbs in deep drifts, which wasn’t bad in itself. It was the combination of knee deep snow with knee deep water/bog beneath that was worrying. Peat grikes were full of snow drift, so you never knew how deep you’d go and once you’d gone, if you’d stop or keep on sinking into a different substance. I regretted not plodding on over Sgorr Gailbhre.

After many a sinking, I arrived back at Peter’s Rock thankful of only one bootful of ice cold bog water. It was too early, but i was still welcomed at the hostel. Talking to the warden, Nick, and his dog (Tomrigg – named after a previous warder). I’d only been here six hours and I was already talking to dogs. There were only a few of us in the hostel that night. Including a snoring Frenchman who was pelted in the night with socks by those he kept awake. Some More pics of the day below.