Day 257: Paps of Jura

My dawn friend returns, trimming the grass to a perfect height for camping.

Still in my sleeping bag, leaning out of the tent, we stare at each other.

The weather is perfect for climbing the Paps, three cone-shaped scree-clad mountains, over 4,600 feet of ascent. I need hiking poles, so the tent comes down. The hotel staff let me stash my heaviest gear in a cupboard.

Stewart pulls up with his minibus to take me three miles down the road to the start of the walk. He watched me walk wearily past his house on Sunday night and, grinning, apologises for not running a seven-day service. He does allow me to travel for free today. What a fine man.

It’s 8 am as I climb over a stile and head across a boggy track toward the mountains. They look gorgeous, almost benign from a distance.

Things look different when Beinn Shiantaidh (“Holy Mountain”) looms over me. At 2,477ft, it’s the hardest of the three mountains as there’s no clear path. Is there a way up through all that scree?

Stepping stones cross the outflow from Loch an t-Siob, Beinn a’ Chaolais reflected on the surface.

After a tiring ascent over the tussocky ground, a steep scree slope blocks the way. Am I supposed to traverse this? I try to stand on the largest rocks and avoid putting my feet in a hollow where a slide could trap them. The rocks start to move beneath me. This is outside my comfort zone. Heart pounding, I’m relieved to step onto a patch of heather which binds the rocks more tightly.

I try to follow the ribbons of heather up the hillside, avoiding the scree, stopping every few minutes to admire the expanding view.

Nearing the summit, the heather vanishes into rocks. The gradient is shallower now, so there’s no risk of the scree moving, which is a relief.

For once, I reach a peak free of clouds. It’s taken me three hours to get here, longer than the guide said. Will I manage all three peaks?

This seems a good spot to try my new tiny iPhone stand for the first time. I somehow manage to get in the frame without tumbling backwards over the rocks and down the mountain in the 10 seconds the camera allows. I need a longer timer.

Beinn an Oir (“Mountain of Gold”) is the highest of the Paps at 2,575ft. There’s a clear path running left to right and along the ridge.

The descent from Beinn Shiantaidh and the walk up Beinn an Oir is relatively straightforward. I pass two other pairs of hikers, descending from Beinn an Oir. They are on a single mountain walk. I reach the second summit at 1:30 pm with a fine view back to Beinn Shiantaidh.

A trig point sits in a rock-walled enclosure, a perfect spot for lunch. I can almost see my tent from up here. Well, if it was still pitched and not in a cupboard that is. All is peaceful until a few huge insects descend. What are they doing up here?

A spectacular narrow ridge leads down toward the final mountain.

Another chap is picking his way up the ridge towards me. We look about the same age. He’s also hiking all three mountains and I wish him luck given that he will finish with the horrendous descent down the scree of Beinn Shiantaidh. I’d rather do that going up and first thing, when I’m fresh, not at the end of a tiring day.

I make another mistake on the descent, sliding down a steep scree slope instead of walking on firmer ground near the edge of the ridge. I develop a sideways technique where the lead foot slides down through the rocks until it’s stabilised by my poles and then I bring the second foot down and repeat the process. I’m using unfamiliar muscles. Something is going to hurt tomorrow.

There are spectacular views of Beinn a’ Chaolais (“Mountain of the Kyle”), the lowest of the Paps at 2,408ft.

The cooling water is tempting.

A path loops round the back of the mountain rather than heading up the sheer scree slope, although it’s brutal at the end, straight up and up and up. I stop frequently, tiring. Finally, I slump down on the summit. I’ve made it! What a great feeling.

There are superb views of the first two peaks.

It’s 4 pm. All I need now is someone to carry me down the mountain, out the valley and back down the road to the hotel bar.

Retracing my steps from the summit, the scree seems a lot steeper than I remember. That’s because I’m a bear of little brain, on the wrong track, descending straight down the scree path that I avoided coming up (highlighted in red below). It’s a nightmare, but I manage to get to the bottom, adding extra distance to my exit walk.

There’s no path from the base of the mountain to the loch, just bog, tussocks and gullies. It’s hard going. Nearing the loch, I forget to test a patch of ground covered in brown grass. One leg plunges into a bog. I fall forward and twist to one side, thankfully finding myself chest down on firmer ground. Why do I keep losing concentration at the end of a tough walk? I know this is what happens.

I head down to the loch to wash away the stinking mud and water.

The beautiful view quickly makes me forget my irritation.

It’s an easy walk out now, arriving back at the road at 7 pm. One car is still parked, presumably owned by the chap I passed earlier in the day.

I consider hitching a lift back to the village, but it’s a lovely evening, with rabbits on the sandy beach and four baby mallards hugging the shore.

Back at Craighouse, it’s time to reflect in the bar over a couple of cold beers and a good meal. What a fantastic day. As tough as any I’ve done. I’ve pushed myself again. Of course, there’s always something to put your achievement in perspective. The Isle of Jura Fell Race takes place this coming weekend. The 28km course includes the Paps and the record time is under three hours — unbelievable!

Date of walk: Tuesday 21st May 2024.

Walk distance: 14 miles.

Total distance: 4,294 miles.