Trolls

An epic day of hiking. I don’t think I’ve knowingly summited a Corbett before, so today was a first. The Corbett in question is Askival, the highest peak on Rùm. As Rùm is the smallest Scottish island to have a summit over 2,500 feet, this explains the island’s dramatic foreboding appearance as you approach.

The start of the ascent to the first peak in the Rùm Cuillin, Hallival, follows a mountain stream out of Kinloch, and this gave off alpine vibes as we filled up our bottles with delicious fresh water. There is a memorial here to a former warden named Wilf Nelson who died in a fall on the island in 1989. Up close to the top of Hallival we passed a dead bird amongst some feather carnage, likely to be the work of a sea eagle. It was misty, with stags bleating out of sight, and a lone shaggy mountain goat that shared the summit. The cloud could clear and reappear within minutes and when it was open there were commanding views over Eigg.

After Hallival we crossed a narrow ridge to summit Askival, which involved some exhilarating scrambling. Then a very tiring descent over rocks and scree to a pass from where we ascended Trollaval. The top of this third peak was the trickiest of all, although not the highest. Getting down was arduous, and in order not to take too many risks near ledges we opted for some very steep ‘side walking’ down grassy slopes. This is very energy-sapping on clumpy Scottish hillsides and we understood why the hiking guides describe this route as ‘sustained’. Hallival and Trollaval (or Trallval or Trollabhal; mountain of the trolls) are both Grahams. Askival is also a Marilyn. This trip has significantly enhanced my knowledge of hill-bagging terminology.

Some hikers summit three more peaks to complete the traverse of the Rùm Cuillin but instead we dipped down into the long valley that meets the sea at Dibidil, an old village long since abandoned (or forcibly cleared). There is a mountain bothy at Dibidil, which was a good place to boil up water for noodles, amongst a pair of old walking socks hung over the fire, and drained whisky bottles lining the mantelpiece.

The final five mile walk from Dibidil to Kinloch, which we started at 5pm, was arduous and was more akin to plodding through a stream as it had started raining by then. The initial part that rounds cliffs on the eastern side of Rùm was stunning even in the rain, about the strength of which we couldn’t agree (Michelle terming it as light; me as medium). Whatever the rain classification, the walk became a slog after 11+ hours since we’d set out. We were happy to shuffle back into Kinloch for hot showers, dry clothes and stretching of our limbs out of troll-like positions.