Reflections from a Winter Line
A yellow flash followed the click of the car doors locking; we turned to the trail, the cone of our headlamps shining bright. Heading northeast into the dark and damp we set off at pace, our minds glowed with electrical ions positively connecting excitement, doubt and wonder. Our trail, steadily rising up to the Coire Dudh Mor 390m a high valley pass between Beinn Eighe and Liathach. We were running through the ancient landscape of the mighty Torridon, a landscape that’s as old as creation itself.
We breathed deep, our lungs filled, our hearts pumped, our legs carried us. Eyes wide open we saw in awe, the rising sun as it begins its winter arc on the horizon. Glowing ridgelines on Liathach and the Horns of Allign, the dayglow had begun. The running was benign and effortless. We ran with joy and pace, fast and flowing, the trail a perfect match for our every step. Only stopping to absorb the views; a timeless distance hundreds of millions of years in the making. Banished from our minds the foolishness of our lives, the eternal stench of the city. We left behind relative figments of our imagination as we stepped through the boundary between creation and reality.
Photographer John Proctor, Photo: Tia Gibson by Loch Coire Mhic Fearchair
We turned to the southeast, heading to Loch Coire Mhic Fhearchair situated below the iconic triple buttress of Beinn Eighe. Mind-blowing reflections blurred our boundaries between reality and vision, eyes wide open we stood in awe. Created at the dawn of time, such wonder of a distorted, super-heated and metamorphosed mass. If the world has only one super sweet moment set aside for us, a moment of pure reflection; Torridon may forever be that place.
Photographer John Proctor, Photo: Reflections of Triple Buttress Beinn Eighe
Engulfed in a snowstorm, we turned to the Far East wall heading up to the saddle between Ruach-stac Mor 1010m and the Beinn Eighe massive. Kicking in for the good stuff, spikes on running shoes, the deep snow numbed our toes. Axe in hand we left behind the valley views and headed for the summit, Coinneach Mhor 976m. Riding out the snowstorm as we climbed to point 956m, the swirling cloud opens as the panoramic across the whole of Torridon elates our senses. Pure white crisp snow crowns the massif mountain. We head west for the summit, the sun burning brightly, views of Liathch to the southeast, Slioch to the north.
Photographer John Proctor, Photo: Tia Gibson setting the map with Liathch in the backdrop
Views of everlasting beauty, our hearts lifted as we stood on the summit, we stopped and ate. The cheese and pickle sandwiches tasted good, we set the map and compass and headed west. Fresh steps through the pure winter cover, first a plateau then a fine mountaineering ridgeline led us to the summit of Spidean Coire nan Clach 993m. We turned to the descent at what felt like the edge of time, the sun low on its arc across the winter line. Staying focused on every step descending through the super steep crisp snow to a shoulder, 866m Stuc Coire an Laoigh. We approached the sublime viewpoint, our descent directly below.
Photographer John Proctor, Photo: Tia Gibson 866m Syuc Coire an Lauigh
We stood to take in the final view, a transcendently beautiful aura all around; we had felt the winds of time. A nip from a 15-year-old single malt whisky warmed us; it was our last day in the mountains. Yet we had to return to our lives. Fast and free, we descended once again, our lungs filled, our hearts pumped and our legs took the brunt as the joy of the run filled our minds.
Article written by John Proctor: Mountain Climbing Instructor; Author of ‘Mapping the Mind; the art of skyrunning UK’. Instagram big_friend_academy, Email: breakcliffe@googlemail.com
Runner Tia Gibson: Physical training coach & Skyrunner. Instagram tiatilly
