Fisherfield: the land of far beyond
Hope for the best, prepare for the worst - that's usually the mantra, especially on a journey into the remotest mountain country in Scotland. But here I was, preparing for the best, sunscreen, shorts and sun hat packed, two bottles of water in the side pocket. The weather forecast was unequivocal. After many, many years of anticipation, this long walk over the mountains of Letterewe and Fisherfield was about to be seared in my memory in green, gold and blue. I had 36 hours to play with. Two long, rough days of walking, six mountains and one camp. I walked in from the north. As I left Corrie Hallie, the hills were sloughing off the last of the previous day's rainclouds. The road was still slick with water and droplets glittered on birch leaves as I toiled up the track - the start of long trails through to Kinlochewe and Poolewe to the south. An Teallach under cloud Past three tired-looking German lads heading north on the Cape Wrath trail, past brooding An Teallach and its cloud