|Spidean a Coire Leith|
|Cornices leading up to Mullach an Rathain|
Sgurr Mhor came and went and the sun resumed its ascendancy, banishing the clouds for another day. I kept to the path off the Horns until I'd descended the steeper part, then headed off across the moor to the impending bulk of Beinn Dearg. Fortified by a slab of Christmas cake, I laboured up the unrelenting slopes. This is a brute of a hill, with no easy means of ascent. I was glad of a sandwich behind the summit rocks, before scrambling down the broken ridge.
|Liathach from Beinn Dearg|
I think that I was so relieved to escape from the gully that I continued to amble slowly along in the moonlight, legs still floppy sticks of jelly. I was also dehydrated having consumed little more than 750ml of liquid all day, but I was now enjoying the day again, scrambling up the snow covered rocks to Coinneach Mor. I didn't see the point of heading over to Ruadh Stac Mor. It's a dull trog in the dark and there was little merit in an unnecessary out-and-back. I therefore set course for the long ridge toward Kinlochewe. The snow had by now mostly refrozen, even on the crest and a three quarter moon negated the need for a torch. There is little finer than a snowy crest under moonlight and with no schedule to meet I just went at a (slow) pace that my tormented legs could deal with.
|The Black Carls the next morning|