Here is the shipping forecast for Whisky, Egg and Muck on Wednesday 24th September. Strong winds on Dubhs ridge, increasing to gale force. Visibility poor, improving later. Likelihood of hazards to shipping.

Undeterred our intrepid party of 9 hardy souls took the Misty Isles ferry from Elgol to Coruisk with the intention to stay at the JMCS Coruisk hut for 3 days to enable John to tackle his last Munro – Sgurr Dubh Mor. We were laden down with provisions as Rich – as Head of Catering – aimed to add a (food) mountain to the Cuillin range. Last minute attempts to winnow this down (in case there was a need to walk out with everything) only resulted in there being more whisky than milk in the supplies.

Our overladen boat struggled into the sheltered cove and landing point near the outflow of Loch Coruisk, passing the lazing seals on the rocks opposite. They seemed to set the tone for such a beautiful and remote area.

But we were here with business to attend to, so after unloading and opening up our accommodation nearby – alun key lock protector, metal window shutters, lighting sources, establishing water supply (manual by hand as it turned out), – we reconnoitred the route for the morrow.

The plan had been to tackle the Dubhs Ridge which leads – ultimately – to Sgurr Dubh Mor, the key objective. This is allegedly (at 920 metres over 2.5km) the longest rock climb in Britain, albeit a modest Moderate standard, so relatively undemanding in the right conditions, notwithstanding descending mountain bikes (See Danny MacAskill’s video on YouTube).

A scramble at the base up a grassy gully led to a rocky ledge from which to survey the lower portion (possibly as much as a fifth) of the route. Quality gabbro rock forming an exposed and broad easy angled – for the most part – ridge with minimal protection. A delight on a sunny day, padding up dry rock with the friction of coarse emery cloth. The wind, however, was announcing its presence.

Back to the hut and our first pitch was taken into Rich’s food supplies – chicken in a pesto sauce – making a small indentation into what seemed was going to be a multi-pitch, multi-day journey. Evening entertainment was provided by an impromptu trial of whether John had actually done all the Munros claimed, there being a smidgeon of doubt over some Fannaichs in 1994. Witnesses for both prosecution and defence were called – there being only one – Pete Mayhew, John’s potential companion on the day in question. It turned out he couldn’t remember either way. With 2 (non-Scottish) lawyers in the room a verdict of ‘Not Proven’ was returned whilst it was still feasible to do so, leaving an intriguing sense of doubt to the discussion.

That night the wind shutters and roof were rattled from the wind without, and the snoring from within allowing plenty of waking time to reflect on the day ahead.

In the morning, given the wind conditions some opted for alternatives – sorting the water supply, or an ascent of Scurr na Stri nearby – whilst a party of 5 recovered the ground travelled the day before to better assess the conditions. With a strong gusty wind and cloud masking the upper 200m or so the route was changed to the coires to the north side of the ridge as a more feasible option.

The going underfoot was hard work and as we entered the upper coire – Coire an Lochain – Andy M and Malcolm turned back to recover the climbing gear we had stored at the base of the Dubhs ridge, saving time for the summit party of 3 – John, Martin and Pete.

Still rougher going ensued to get through to the col and the ridge proper where there was a hypothermia inducing wind force. Once through this and on the final summit scramble, however, all was perversely calm. The top was reached and the final Munro tick for John dutifully achieved.

With no view to linger for and summit photos taken, we beat the retreat whence we came. The descent involved less effort but no less difficulty and sure enough – the cloud cleared as we reached the coire floor. The descent across Coire a Chaoruinn was more easily found from above than below but it was still a 10 hr + day by the time we reached the hut. Pitch 2 of Rich’s food extravanza – sausages and potatoes – awaited.

The following day – Friday – was largely spent on local excursions exploring the area, including investigating the Bad Step in the event of having to walk out. Valiant efforts to get the water supply flowing were unsuccessful. We learnt later that it has been an ongoing 70 year project. The wind stayed high but the views all round were spectacular. News filtered through that – with Saturday’s forecast storm – the boat company had finally determined it couldn’t pick us up. This gave us 2 challenges. Could we eat enough of Rich’s food mountain to be able to walk out with light enough loads, and what would we eat thereafter should we be stuck for longer? Nervous glances were being made around the room. In the absence of proverbial straws the game of dominoes was reserved in case of the ultimate eventuality. Pitch 3 of the food route was a curry.

A very wet and blowy Saturday resulted in the hut jigsaw finally coming together and the hut looking cleaner than it had since the last storm (presumably before the long dry summer). Bella Jane Boat trips – less God fearing than their rivals Misty Isle – confirmed they could pick us up on Sunday. In celebration we tucked into the fry up (with assorted embellishments) that had been planned for the morning. Rash perhaps, should the weather have changed, but what’s life without an element of risk? We still had the dominoes.

Morning saw the sea as a millpond and the arrival on a rib of the party (of wild swimmers) succeeding us at the hut, a day late on their schedule neatly meshing with our delayed departure as the hut was full. The high speed skip across Loch Scavaig to Elgol was a great way to conclude the trip and we were rewarded with a rainbow over the Cuillin. 

Present: John Buckle, Martin Astley, Andy Muir, Malcolm Barr, Rich Fahy, Jon Clarke, Nev Croston, Andy Lafferty, Pete Mayhew.