Seana Bhraigh - The Northern Corries of the the north?

With the weather having descended in to the kind of crap that only the north of Scotland knows how, Friday (30th) looked like the only potential day for getting out for some winter climbing.  A fair frost was forecast and so somewhere that had received, and retained snow had to be the target.  With a thirst for adventure the obvious choice was some climbs on what is often considered the most remote Munro in Scotland, Seana Bhraigh.  A mere 1/2 hour from my highland retreat belies the 15 km approach for which a bike was going to be essential, even if that available to me was far too small for my 6'5" frame.  After the painful approach and the skillful employment of a pair of ice axes in the repair of a bike chain we topped the moraine bound lip of the coire through which a torrent had cut down from the loch above.  A promisingly wild wintry scene greeted us with the pillar of An Sgurr thrusting up to our left and the snow wreathed crags and gullies filling the panorama round to our right. 

The first glimpses on the long approach, An Sgurr on the left

Although ice was beginning to form it  was only present as thin smears and trickles; concern was also in mind over the somewhat damp turf.  Certainly not a day to be trying anything new but rather go with a safe choice which the classic Sunday Post would hopefully provide.  Sunday Post is the left of two prominent gullies that cut straight up the central buttress of the coire.

The buttresses on Seana Bhraigh through which Sunday Post takes the the left of the two prominent gullies on the left hand side of the photo

 Making our way up to the base of the twin gullies we were confronted with some significant and thankfully old avalanche debris with boulders of hard neve containing turf and rocks scattered across the scoured gully floor.  The neve made for good early progress on which we soloed up to the first step.  Setting up a belay, I let Dave lead on up the first pitch which instantly told of what we were in for with crusty snow, behind which water was often running, hollow ice and the occasional but always crucial patch of neve, rock and usable ice which allowed progress.  This was a day for learning and one which the grade was of little meaning.  Four 50 m pitches took us to a scramble through the cornice and a confrontation with the incoming stormy front and the impending darkness.  Each pitch offered something of interest and little meaningful gear but the situation and solitude were breathtaking.  The sustained nature of the climb can rightly be seen as making it a classic, when in condition but in the condition we found it it had to be considered as an adventure rather than a classic.

Soil and rock filled neve from previous avalanches, Sunday Post

 Some slow progress saw us summit at around 3 and a real feeling of distance and isolation descended as did we, trying to make the most of the fading light.  Eventually the head torches became essential and we plodded on through the snow line and in to the darkness.  Rising temperatures and the snow which had fallen throughout the day provided a remarkable landscape, seething with water, intensified in the light of a headtorch.  Approaching lights gave hope of a lift down the glen and out of the now driving rain but it was just a party heading for the Coiremor Bothy.  After the shouting of pleasantries across the raging torrent of the Corriemulzie River (pronounced - corrymoylie) we stumbled uppon our bikes and all that remained was the prolonged soaking which passed for the cycle back down the glen, past the lodge and to the car.


Probably not the classic climbing experience but a fantastic adventure into one of the most remote winter climbing locations in the Scotland and certainly enough to fuel a return trip under better conditions.  A swift drive south to Torridon and continued rain seems the perfect setting to retreat in to a few beers and a couple of whiskys to see in the new year.