First Corrie

By Jenny Mitchell

Standing here, I felt totally grounded.

It was in Glencoe that I had first ascended into glacial cut corries and hanging valleys, back in my first months in Scotland. It was probably this that had done for my calf length boots.

Put simply, the path that I had observed from the A82 near Loch Achtriochtan, winding its way up above the mountain rescue post and then disappearing, had been too inviting to resist. There was a considerable flow of water on the lower ground, so I stayed to the right. Once I gained height, any stones I dislodged went straight down. Arriving high at the lip of a waterfall, I soon found myself in a small basin. Rock everywhere. A vast scree slope led up to what might have been a saddle, and directly behind me were two massive overhanging buttresses. Then mist.

Standing here, I felt totally grounded. Two guys had followed me up. Filled with awe I asked, “What is this?” They gave me, my footwear, and my polka dot skirt one look, before moving on, lost for words. I was in Coire nam Beithach. I didn’t have a map so I wasn’t going any further. But I would be back.

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