Day 353: Ladhar Bheinn

Ladhar Bheinn is the highest mountain in Knoydart. This is not the weather for scrambling round a ridge circuit, so the plan is a there-and-back hike, made more arduous by the long walk inland through a now-familiar glen.

A track runs all the way to Allt-Coire Torr an Asgaill, fed by burns tumbling down the surrounding mountains. The rain, hail and snow make for difficult photography.

Navigating the stark landscape, alive with the river and the elements, I feel that familiar rush.

A helpful bridge over the river leads to a rough, boggy path that passes the open doorway of a ruined house before ascending the mountain, water flowing down the trail.

I put on microspikes at the snowline, easing the climb.

The path vanishes beneath the snow, the gradient increases, and a boulder field lies ahead. I’m only halfway up despite walking for four hours.

Progress is slow, testing the snow with my poles to find a solid placement for my feet between the rocks. This is hard and tiring. I’m learning a lot about winter hiking. The summit lies hidden in the clouds, so views may be limited, even if I have enough time to get up there. The descent will be more difficult and slower. I turn back, once again. The mountain can wait until the snow clears.

Dropping below the snowline, I find a flat rock, sit and enjoy the magnificent view with hot coffee and a Kit Kat, my sugar-fix-of-choice since I was a young research student.

The benefit of abandoning the summit is having more time to explore the river, which is appropriate since I’ve brought Robert Macfarlane’s latest book, Is a River Alive? with me. My favourite author, it’s beautifully written as always, despite forcing me to reach for a dictionary every other page. Continuing the trend set with Underland, it’s his most serious work yet, addressing the global destruction of our rivers, the bringers of life, and yet finding hope in the efforts of passionate conservationists. Although I’m only halfway through, it already has me thinking about what I can do: the power of storytelling.

The roar of a waterfall. Where is it? I push through a thicket of birch trees and find a delightful mossy spot overlooking a gorge where I sit, cradle hot coffee in my hands, close my eyes and let the sound engulf me.

The weather forecast is accurate, as the foul morning gives way to a sunny afternoon. In Scotland, you can’t wait for fine weather to step outside your door, by then it’s too late to reach remote places.

The glen is glorious in the new light, dominated by Ladhar Bheinn. I’ll be back. I’m not sure I’ll ever finish my coastal walk at this rate, reluctant to press further north until I’ve explored every mountain and glen that calls to me. That’s comforting.

Date of walk: Saturday 14 March 2026.

Walk distance: 11 miles.

Total distance: 5,640 miles.