EXPLORE A WILD ISLAND
MAY Askival Rum
From the spring Equinox in March, the length of the days in the north of the country stretch out ahead of those in the south until, come the summer solstice in June, there’s just over 18 hours between sunrise and sunset in Inverness compared to a little over 16.5 hours in London. Of course, summer in Scotland brings with it more than just an extra hour-and-a-half of day; it also brings midges, which means any extra time could be spent sheltering in a tent or running for cover from the black swarms of bloodsuckers. But in May, before the wee biting blighters have reached maximum density in the Highlands, you can still have 15.5-17.5 hours of daytime to play with in Mallaig. Why Mallaig particularly? Because this quaint harbour town on Scotland’s west coast is the departure point for ferries to the Small Isles, including the most adventurous island of them all, Rùm.
I’m sitting on the summit of Askival nibbling on a Jelly Baby. My companions are similarly occupied, although none of us are really paying attention to the task in hand. Instead, we are entirely focused on the spectacle around us. In the west, the sun is moving lazily across the sky towards the ocean – in no great rush to tuck itself up beyond the horizon. Between the
glowing orb and us is the vast sparkling expanse of the Atlantic Ocean, the Hebridean Sea dotted with islands, and the majority of the Rùm Cuillin hills – a mix of glowing rock and warm shadows.
Like its Skye namesake, the Rùm Cuillin is a snaking mountain chain of gabbro rock and volcanic origin. Although lacking the height, severity and inhospitality of the Skye peaks, Rùm’s hills are nonetheless an exemplary ridgewalking experience. From the remote coastal bothy above the cliffs and caves at Dibidil, a thigh-burning ascent tops out on Sgùrr nan Gillian (another name shared with a Skye peak) from where the Cuillin bagging commences. Remote bealachs, narrow ridges, rocky scrambles and steep corries lead onwards over mountains named by Norse settlers centuries ago.
Looking south and west, I let my eyes trace the route of our journey. The sweep of Sgùrr nan Gillean above the Nameless Corrie. The bealach linking it to Ainshval, scooped and shaped by more sheer-walled corries. The stubborn rocky top of Trollabhal, the lowest yet most characterful and thrilling of the Cuillin hills. And the deep Bealach an Oir, from which Askival’s western spur climbs to the summit – the highest on Rùm.
Beyond the rickety trig pillar the summit area is patchy grass and earth and boulders. Further down from the summit, small, dark burrows lead into the shallow earth. These are the work of the Manx Shearwaters, a black and white bird that is master of the seas, but vulnerable on land, hence the burrows high in the mountains. It’s estimated that around a third of the world’s ‘Manxies’ make their home here every summer. The droppings from these birds fertilize the hills, allowing the Cuillin to sustain rich grasslands (‘shearwater greens’) that could otherwise not exist.
To the north, a narrow, grass-covered promenade leads towards Hallival, the next peak on the Rùm Cuillin tour. Beyond Hallival just Barkeval remains, although this outlying summit is often bypassed on the way back to Kinloch
– the small harbour village on the edge of Loch Scresort which is home to all of Rùm’s 30 or so permanent inhabitants. Still, with daylight in hand there seems little need to miss it out. Before this green and pleasant land is reached, Askival has a sting in its tail. Its northern ridge, which leads down to the jade green bealach, is narrow, spiked and vicious. It might be climbable with a rope, and probably better in ascent. But it’s also not the only way off the mountain. It’s possible to pick a route way around the boulders and Shearwater burrows parallel to and just below the ridge, joining it lower down where it’s less steep and threatening.
I swallow the Jelly Baby and turn back to the trig pillar. Out east the sparkling sea is matched by the glistening water of Loch Coire nan Grunnd. As I approach, my companions stand. One extends an arm, a yellow shiny bag in an upturned hand. I reach in and take another Jelly Baby, toss it into my mouth, then head for Hallival.