Bidean nam Bian is the highest mountain in Argyll. It’s a tough seven-mile circular hike, including a second Munro, Stob Coire Sgreamhach. To add to the challenge, I must walk six miles down Glen Coe to the start and return the same way. There are several unknowns, depending on the conditions at the top. Will I manage the steep descent into the Hidden Valley or be forced by snow to retrace my steps? Failure on Buachaille Etive Mor lurks in my mind.
In anticipation, I enjoyed a rest yesterday, celebrating England’s win over Wales in the Six Nations and watching a stag roaming the grounds.
The dawn road is eerily quiet apart from occasional headlights piercing the gloom.
There are no good Samaritans for the lonely hitchhiker. Perhaps the ice axe in my other hand does not help.
My path lies between The Three Sisters. Bidean nam Bian, veined with snow, hides in the clouds.
There are three groups of hikers ahead of me. I pass two and don’t see them again. The last group carry ropes — a mountain guide leading a young couple.
The long ascent, including a little scrambling, opens onto a broad plateau beneath formidable buttresses.
The climbers drop their gear at the foot of the intimidating Stob Coire nan Lochan. I’m glad my path runs round the right and up the ridge.
The path is hard to follow, vanishing into a steep boulder field, saw-toothed with plummeting gullies echoing the chatter of the climbers far below.
Looking back along the ridge, the cloud rolls in. A large bird of prey soars high above — an eagle?
Reaching the cairn at the top of Stob Coire nan Lochan, Bidean nam Bian waits at the end of a narrow ridge. The low cloud is claustrophobic, and the snow makes me hesitate. This is new territory for me. Do I go on? Two voices appear to the left. Neil and Andrew, a couple of Scots from Edinburgh, are hiking the same circuit. Confidence restored, I tag along.
The path leads along the top of the arête. Andrew takes the lead, with me in the middle and Neil, an experienced climber, behind. Unfortunately, Andrew and I are chatting too much and find ourselves to the right of the ridge on a steep slope with patches of snow and an awful drop to our right. We stop and consider our options. Looking down behind me, the thought of retracing our steps fills me with dread. After a discussion, we traverse the slope to our left and up onto the top of the ridge and into relative safety. That’s not something I want to do again.
The final ascent to the summit of Bidean nam Bian is much easier on the correct path.
A tall, gaunt figure strides out of the mist. It’s not a phantom but an old chap who has walked these mountains all his life. He tells us the steep descent from Bealach Dearg into the Hidden Valley is possible, despite the snow, having scrambled up that way.
The ridge walk to our second summit at Stob Coire Sgreamhach is straightforward.
The Hidden Valley lies far below — a rockslide hides it from the road — where the MacDonalds of Glencoe hid their rustled cattle.
The moment of truth. Do we descend the snow gully or retrace our steps? I explain that I’ve never used my crampons or ice axe, although I’ve watched videos. Neil says this is not the best moment to practice, but I’m happy to give it a go and put on my crampons.
“You’ve got them on back to front.”
Not a good start.
He leaves me to it, and I don’t ask him to check again, not realising that I have them on the wrong feet and my bindings are incorrect.
Neil goes first and kicks steps in the snow. I follow and then Andrew. The top of the chute is easy, pushing my ice axe into the snow and walking forward.
The gully steepens, causing Neil to turn round and face the snow. I follow suit, finding his steps or digging my own when my legs are too short. It’s hard work, using muscles in a way I’ve not used before, and the sweat is soon dripping.
I need a break, so Neil cuts out a ledge where I can get both feet in. At this point, one of my crampons comes off, so I finish the descent with one boot and one crampon. My hiking trousers are torn where I’ve caught them in my crampons. So much for videos and theory.
There’s still a long walk out down the valley, at the end of which the guys kindly give me a lift back to the hotel, saving six miles of hiking. I offer a round of beers, but they have children to put to bed and jobs to get back to on Monday morning. I remember that life. Perhaps we will meet again out in the mountains.
Date of walk: Sunday 16 March 2025.
Walk distance: 7 miles + 6 miles to start.
Total distance: 4,891 miles.
Blimey…..and wow…. well done mate
Cheers, Mike.
Well that was an exciting introduction into the use of ice axe and crampons, Tony! What an adventure.
Yup. Cal was going to give me a lesson a couple of months ago on the lower slopes, but no snow. I did get one on Ben Nevis, but not in time for this hike. I learnt a lot …. about what not to do! 😂
How lucky are you meeting those two – somebody’s looking after you. Beautiful photos as always – loved the nonchalance of the stag in the car park.
Thanks, Tricia. What struck me was how thin and graceful the stag’s legs are.
Wow, exciting stuff! Glad you had company for that climb and that you managed to reach the summits.
Having company makes such a difference if you have doubts. In theory, now I know what I can do, it should make it easier next time. In theory. 🙂
What a great day out and an exciting report. You manage to convey the jeopardy with a light heart but the reader will still have his heart in his mouth at a couple of moments!
I’ve walked a little bit of that route some years ago when I was a bit younger. Indeed starting from the same hotel back in the days when it was a good bit cheaper and scruffier!
Hi Damian. It’s hard to imagine that hotel being scruffy. I’m swapping the luxury of the bunkhouse for a tent next week, as spring is here.