Glen Roy and the Corrieyairaik Pass

Thursday 28th and Friday 29th May 2026

On the day before this walk my self-made trail across the West Highlands of Scotland had taken me to Roy Bridge where I now headed into a valley that I had heard a lot about but never walked through myself. Glen Roy has a fascinating natural phenomenon in it known as parallel roads where terraces on the side of the valley have been caused by a succession of lakes after the last ice age. It is a national nature reserve so I was hopeful for an impressive sight and therefore I decided I would take my trail through the valley. On the previous two days I had taken advantage of good weather to climb over two mountain ranges, over the Mamores and the twin mountains of Aonach Beag and Aonach Mòr, but, compared with those days this was going to be a much easier day with less climbing as I kept to the bottom of the valley, which I appreciated as those days had been very tiring. Although there was still not a cloud in the sky, the winds had picked up, which indicated that the weather was about to change, and rain was forecast for the next day, so I was keen to walk as far as possible on this day to take advantage of the lingering sunshine and leave as little of the trail as possible in the rain on the last day of my trail. Initially I was just walking along a quiet road with the views blocked by trees and even when I had a view all I could see was more trees covering the valley. 

When I eventually emerged from the trees my view down the valley was initially dominated by the eastern crags of Aonach Mòr, with Aonach Beag behind, but later it was their neighbours, the Grey Corries that dominated the views behind me. Later, the parallel roads of Glen Roy began to appear, like green lines through the heather around the side of the valley, but they were so faint from where I was standing it was difficult for me to see anything interesting, though it is still amazing that something like that could be a natural phenomenon. Slowly, I made my way along the single track, unenclosed road through the valley gradually getting fed up with walking along a road, and although the scenery was fantastic I felt disconnected from it at the bottom of the valley. There is something very monotonous about walking along a road, every step the same, whereas on a trail there is constant variety, moving up and down, left and right, but on a road it is extremely tedious. I took loads of pictures of the valley but none of the pictures look particularly special. They seem to be just of a valley. Eventually the landscape at the bottom of Glen Roy became wilder, with less farmland and therefore more appealing, distracting me from the tedious road walking. 

Finally, I passed the end of the road, slowly leaving civilisation behind, although the track I was still walking on was a clear indication of its lingering remains. It was now getting rather hot, which on my previous couple of days I had countered by being at the top of a mountain where it is a lot cooler, but by staying at the bottom of a valley, sheltered from the wind, the heat was immense. Even though I appreciate the views, part of me preferred the cooler temperatures I had in the first week of my holiday. As I approached the top of the pass, I came near a bothy while my track left me by fording the river, so I had to find my way pathless until I reached a faint path that starts from the bothy, and took me over the pass to the source of the River Spey in Loch Spey. Although this is a very bleak, isolated area, there are mountains to the south that are well known, rising to Creag Meagaidh, which I climbed in 2008. I would have loved to have climbed it again as the weather had been poor on that occasion and I had considered including it on this trail, but it is not easy to get to from Glen Roy. The path widened after passing Loch Spey and became easier to walk upon, but then after crossing Shesgnan Burn I lost all trace of the path with a faint etching in the grass being all I could find, so I turned north and made my own way to a building marked on maps as Shesgnan over tussocky grass and across narrow water channels until I reached a clear track which led me between a conifer plantation and the River Spey to Melgarve.

After passing these buildings I turned left along a track that led me towards the infamous Corrieyairack Pass, which ranks alongside other legendary passes in Scotland such as the Lairig Ghru and the Devil’s Staircase. It has its origins in the military roads constructed in the eighteenth century to keep the lawless Highlanders under control and I had never walked across it before so I was keen to include it in my trail across the West Highlands and to finish in Fort Augustus on the other side. When I reached Corrie Yairack itself I put up my tent beside the stream in a delightful spot and enjoyed a lovely, sunny evening there, but the following morning the promised bad weather brought low clouds and drizzly rain. I hastily set off along the track that soon zigzags up the steep side of the corrie and over the pass alongside electricity pylons that also make use of this pass while I fought against the wind and rain. Occasional gaps in the rain were brief and welcome, especially when accompanied by the marvellous appearance of a rainbow, but eventually the weather did begin to improve. The descent took several hours and then just when the gradient steepened I realised that I had missed a turning so I had to climb back up to find the faint, missing path. With hindsight, I could have stayed on the track I was on because that was formally the military road from the Corrieyairack Pass. However, I was following a route determined for me by the O.S. Maps app, which had dictated that the military road doesn’t take the most direct route so I had to branch off towards Glen Tarff on a rough path that brought me to banks of bluebells that were poignant for me to see, because I knew I would not see any more this year.

Soon after passing the bluebells I was confronted by a locked gate and a private property notice, so I had to take a narrow path beside the fence that led me around Culachy House, and eventually brought me to a road not far from Fort Augustus. When I started planning this holiday I had tried to devise a walk across the West Highlands that compares with the Cambrian Way, which crosses Wales. It was an impossible task, if only because the Highlands of Scotland is completely different to Wales, with fewer settlements, less footpaths and more mountains. I came up with a trail that starts on Loch Fyne and ends at the southern tip of Loch Ness incorporating the Loch Lomond and Cowal Way and parts of the West Highland Way before crossing some of the mountains around Glen Nevis, and then along Glen Roy and over the Corrieyairack Pass. Despite the poor weather in the first week, it was quite successful, but does it compare with the Cambrian Way? No, partly because it is shorter, but ultimately I think it had failed before I even started because there was no anticipation. Unlike on the Cambrian Way, I wasn’t excited about the challenge ahead of me or the prospect of spending two weeks walking in the Highlands of Scotland, and that is a shame.

Aonach Beag and Mòr

Wednesday 27th May 2026

For this holiday I had devised a trail across the West Highlands of Scotland, which in the second week I had started from Glen Coe and I could have followed the valleys all the way, but after suffering with low cloud and rain in the first week of my holiday I was fortunate to now have good weather so I wanted to take advantage of it. Therefore, after camping beside the ruins of Steall in Glen Nevis, I looked up at the mountain that towered over me to the north and declared that I was going to climb it. I had previously headed up these slopes in 2016, but since I had not started until the afternoon, once the weather had cleared, I had only got as far as the Munro Top, Sgùrr a’ Bhuic, so now I wanted to go all the way. I followed the narrow path heading upstream beside the Allt Coire nan Laogh intending on following the burn all the way up, however, I veered off at a junction and ended up crossing the southern slopes on a sheep trod without making any progress uphill. Eventually I turned up the mountain and toiled up the steep slopes that were covered in heather and bilberry, sprinkled with pale violet flowers. This was very tiring, though a cold wind prevented me from getting too hot and eventually, after a lot of effort, I reached the top of the ridge that stretches west from the top of Sgùrr a’ Bhuic. Rather than turning right onto the ridge, I crossed over and followed the contour around to pick up the young burn that heads into the corrie. I had decided that some of my problems the day before had been because I was dehydrated, so at this point I made a point of replenishing my water bottles to ensure I didn’t run out of water and that my rucksack was particularly heavy.

When I reached the top of the corrie the view east across the awesome ridge of the Grey Corries was revealed to me, which repeatedly drew my eye as I slowly headed north up the ridge, following the edge of a precipitous cliff that had me feeling a little nervous as I continued to climb. When I reached the top of Stob Coire Bhealaich the steep, eastern crags of Aonach Beag and Aonach Mòr, still decorated with snow, could now be seen as I made my way along the narrow summit ridge. After chatting with a guy at the top for a while, I continued along the ridge and then turned up the slopes to reach the top of Aonach Beag, which was covered with snow and with no obvious summit marked with a cairn I was wary about getting too close to the cornices on the sheer cliff face. I could see some partially melted footsteps in the snow so I followed these to somewhere near where the summit might be and then hastily retreated towards safety, following the indentations out again. I had previously visited the top of Aonach Beag twenty years ago, out and back from Aonach Mòr, so I had been keen to climb it this time from the valley so I could more properly say I have climbed the mountain. Once off the snow I followed the clear path that zigzags down the steep, rock-filled slope to the col with Aonach Mòr, relishing every step that reminded of many mountain walks from my past and sadly not recently. These days I am reluctant to go up a mountain unless the weather is perfect, like on this day, because I know how much better it is when the weather is good. The comparison is enormous. Why would you want to go to the top of a mountain when you can’t get views like this?

After pausing for my lunch I headed up the broad slopes that led me all the way up to the summit of Aonach Mòr where I had stunning views all around, including west towards Càrn Mòr Dearg and Ben Nevis. Continuing along the broad ridge I veered towards the eastern edge following the route determined for me by the O.S. Maps app, but in 2006 I had kept to the western edge overlooking the deep valley of Allt Daim, which avoided the detritus of the ski slopes, but, of course, since there was no snow, no skiers. A very steep and long descent eventually brought me to the station at the top of the ski centre’s gondola ride, which I could have taken down, but instead I walked on a mountain bike track. When I realised this was a cycle track I came off it, until I realised that the track was in a poor state and no one was cycling down it, so I resumed my descent on the badly eroded track which eventually brought me into a wood where the hazards were even more evident. When I reached a forestry track I turned north east to get away from the ski centre and the mountain biking, and after that long, steep descent it was a relief to finally have easier walking. As I had descended I was struck by how hot it was becoming, since it is always much cooler at the top of a mountain, but it was also now much hotter than I had experienced at any point in my holiday as the heatwave that had afflicted England over the Bank Holiday weekend eventually reached the Highlands of Scotland. 

The forestry tracks took me past a quarry, whose access roads were tricky to cross, and still I kept heading north until finally my path veered right and I came alongside a railway. I had now joined the route of the East Highland Way, a little known trail that goes from Fort William to Speyside, largely following forestry tracks, such as this, but eventually the track veered south and a path continued my eastward progress until I reached a road where I turned left onto the busy A82. With no pavements I walked along the grass verge for a mile into Spean Bridge where I hoped to find something for dinner, but everywhere was closed, so I set off again along the main road taking the A86 which heads towards the Cairngorms. I didn’t go quite that far, and after at least an hour’s walking beside the road I reached Roy Bridge where I found something to eat and the campsite where I spent the night. This was a tiring day with sweltering heat once I came off the mountains, so despite trying to drink as much as possible I still felt dehydrated at the end of it. It was great to be walking at the top of mountains, especially as I don’t get to do that very often these days, and to be on mountains that I had previously visited twenty years ago, but the long walk out didn’t help.

The Mamores

Tuesday 26th May 2026

At the end of the previous day, before this walk, I had climbed up from Kinlochleven along a great path that passes through stunning wooded scenery to reach the Blackwater Reservoir where I put up my tent, even though I had actually intended on staying at the Loch Chiarain bothy, but I was too tired to keep going that far. It was still an enchanting spot with views across the reservoir, over the pass of the Devil’s Staircase and towards the mountain of Buachaille Etive Mòr. The following morning the views were even better because now there wasn’t a cloud in the sky for the first time on my holiday. When I set off I continued to head towards the bothy, before turning left at the burn, Allt Coire na Cruaidhe to follow a slender path that climbs beside the stream. This was very tiring on a path that, shall we say, was in its natural state, that is, rough and boggy. Eventually I came to a junction with the path that comes up from Loch Chiarain where I turned left to continue climbing over Meall na Cruaidhe to views over the epic range of mountains known as the Mamores while the mountains of Glen Coe continued to dominate the view whenever I looked back. My patience on this holiday after a week and a half of poor weather was finally being repaid and now I had excellent weather while heading towards one of the best mountain ranges in Scotland. The tiring path eventually led me to the mouth of Loch Eilde Mòr where a gravel track provided me much easier walking while heading back towards Kinlochleven.

Once over the pass I had mesmerising views along the length of Loch Leven and if I stayed on this track it would have taken me into Lairig Mòr to join the West Highland Way, or alternatively, I could have gone past Loch Chiarain to head into Lairig Leacach to continue north, and these were my foul weather alternatives. However, I wanted to take full advantage of this good weather and I had left myself plenty of time to do so. Even though it would take a lot of effort, I wanted to climb onto the glorious Mamores ridge, and the sight of these high mountains towering over me made me question my intentions. When I turned into Coire na Bà I quaked at the enormity of the mountain Am Bodach and the scale of the effort before me as I slowly made my way up the path, eventually turning east to head across the long slopes of Na Gruagaichean before turning north again to pass below the crags of the north western top and eventually reach a broad, grassy saddle. I have descended by this path through Coire na Bà twice before, most recently in 2017, and I think I appreciated it better on those occasions because it is just too long and tiring for an ascent, so I was relieved when I finally reached the great Mamores ridge. Now, I slowly climbed the ridge towards Stob Coire a’ Chàirn with stunning views all around me, including north towards Glen Nevis and the fabulous mountains beyond, while Am Bodach continued to dominate the view. I fell in love with the Mamores range on my first visit in 2005, so I was overjoyed to be back and to be enjoying fabulous weather amongst the amazing scenery.

The broad ridge eventually led me up to the small, airy summit of Stob Coire a’ Chàirn, which lies on the route of the classic Ring of Steall mountain walk and in 2005 I did part of that walk, coming up over An Gearanach to reach this Munro. But now I turned my back on the view north to look upon Am Bodach, which I decided I didn’t fancy attempting to climb, especially with a heavy rucksack on my back. After making my way along the ridge to the col I then started to head across the screes bypassing the summit. The Ordnance Survey shows two paths crossing the slopes below the steep crags of Am Bodach, which I intended on taking, but I couldn’t find any trace and eventually I turned uphill, climbing a sheer grass rake that led me back onto the clear path which weaved around the crags leading me very steeply up the mountain. With my head down, taking one step at a time, repeatedly crossing the rocks, back and forth, eventually I reached the popular summit of Am Bodach where the views were sensational and worth the exceptional effort required to get there. I could see Loch Leven and the Blackwater Reservoir to the south, but I was more interested in the views across the Mamores from this central location. From the westernmost Munro of the range, Mullach nan Coirean, all the way to Binnein Mòr at the eastern end, every mountain, with the Grey Corries beyond, looked fabulous in the sunshine. 

I spent ages wandering around the summit, taking pictures and gazing at the awesome view, until eventually I headed west down the rocky path that led me down to the saddle and up to the summit of Sgùrr an Iubhair where I took many pictures, mesmerised by the view east, back towards Stob Coire a’ Chàirn with Binnein Mòr behind, displaying the Mamores in its glory. Sadly my photographs lack depth due to the bright sunshine, which is a shame as the view from my perspective was sensational. Eventually I began to descend veering south to avoid the cliffs of Coire nam Miseach until I reached the col where a path led me north descending into Coire a’ Mhusgain. This was an excellent path which I enjoyed coming down until eventually I began to think about dinner since it was now six o’clock. I didn’t want to camp at this point, but I did make my dinner and after eating I continued along the path through the increasingly wooded valley until eventually I reached the road in Glen Nevis. There I turned up the valley along a fabulous path through gloriously wild scenery with bluebells providing a lovely foreground display to the Nevis gorge in the distance. 

This was an exhausting climb because of the warm, sunny evening and it continued as I made my way along the road and through the fabulous Nevis gorge footpath, which has not lost any of its charm despite being very popular. The Steall waterfall at the top was lit by the setting sun, but with a large party preparing to camp there I kept going until I reached the ruins of Steall and camped there. This was a long, tiring day passing through amazing scenery with fabulous weather that you can often only dream about in the Highlands of Scotland, so I felt fortunate. I keep telling myself that I now prefer long distance trails instead of mountains, but when you are at the top of a mountain in good weather the old feelings about mountains come back. But going up a mountain is a lot easier when you are not carrying the heavy camping equipment required for a long distance trail and I could tell my body was more than twenty years older than when I was first in the Mamores with my knees especially causing me problems on this walk.