Woke up this morning to find Beinn na Caillich wearing a white hat. It had snowed at a level of 500 metres (1700 ft) and above. Not just here, but everywhere within sight. Fantastic.
So I decided to jump on the bus to Sligachan and view the majestic Cuillins from close up. On the way there, I snapped Glamaig (the saddle-backed mountain above Sconser) and a few other white-capped beauties. Arrived at Sligachan at 10.15, and took myself off on the path towards Camasunary. Camus Fhionairigh actually means the Beach of Fiona's Summer Meadow. And it is a meadow. However, first I had to negotiate the path. Had a spot of bother keeping my eyes on it, because I couldn't take my eyes of Sgurr nan Gillean, my all-time Cuillin favourite. Completely out of bounds to someone like me suffering from vertigo on a pinnacle like that, but I can gawp. Glamaig slipped behind me and the bulk of Marsco slowly became clearer against the low sun. A large river had to be forded, but managed it with two ladies who were going in the same direction. The piece de resistance came at 12.30, when it took me a mere 40 minutes to cross the one bloody river. Had to take my boots off and wade across. Excruciatingly cold. Danced on the grass with the pain of the cold. AAAAAAAGH!!!!! By then, the view had changed to Harta and Lota Corry and a side-on view of Pinnacle Ridge on Sgurr nan Gillean. The middle section of the Cuillin Ridge also hove into view. Was overtaken at lunch by a couple heading down towards Elgol. Then the journey went around Ruadh Stac and Sgurr Hain, and the Cuillins were lost from sight for me, for a little while. Bla Bheinn towered high above me, also covered with a layer of snow. The fun stopped when my route had to go up a waterlogged hillside to An t-Sron and around the base of Bla Bheinn. Threading a route took me a little while, but finally reached the Camas unary path at 3pm. Spent about an hour gazing at the view, then toddled across to Kilmarie. Spoke to a group of Australians who were down for the day and had walked to the viewpoint. The path is quite rough and wet, but the managed surprisingly well. After they left in their own minibus, I walked down the road towards Torrin again, and once again came across that lame sheep. Decided to report it, because it had been out for at least 4 days like that, and that's cruelty. Back in Broadford at 6pm.
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