Author: Circuit City Danbury

TWO WALKS TO BEN CORODALE

Two of the walks involved Ben Corodale (527 metres), the centerpiece of the three hills that bisect South Uist north to south, the others being, in order, Hecla (606 metres) and Mor (620 metres).  Though Corodale is the smallest, it is also the most difficult, because it is the steepest and furthest from the roads.  

The first walk began when friends dropped us off by boat at the shingle beach in back of Hecla, just below the bothy, on the east coast of the island.  From there we passed through Glen Usinish, where we walked around Loch Corodale, famed for its heavy water (used in nuclear reactors), and picked up a sample to bring home to America for analysis.  We then crossed over Ben Corodale’s peak and made for the main road, the A865, via the improved footpath at Mill Croft.  Logically we should have circled the north shore of Loch Corodale, then climbed Corodale via a relatively gentle ridge at Glen Usinish’s western extremity.  But Adam wanted a challenge, so nothing would do but that we scramble up the almost sheer side of Cas fo Tuath – the daunting palisade that stands between Glens Usinish and Corodale.  

Feeling like the Persians seeking a path at Thermopylae, we clawed our way to the top.  From there we walked across level ground to Ben Corodale’s distinctive knob, where we paused to admire the soaring vistas, the most magnificent of which extended northeast past the shingle beach to Nicholson’s Leap.  After descending Corodale’s steep western slope, we struggled through undulating heather and bog toward the A865.

I made two mistakes.  First, I wore boots instead of hiking shoes, which was foolish, for the ground was mostly dry, and the boots weighed me down.  Second, I forgot that to reach the improved footpath one must keep Ben Corodale fully visible at one’s back.  Instead, we let ourselves drift to our left, till all but its peak had disappeared beneath the slope of Ben Mor.  In consequence, we emerged south of the path, and had to slog our way through a final mile of nasty (undulating, boggy) terrain.  

The walk covered five-and-a-half miles and took the same number of hours. 
The second Corodale walk followed a route I’d taken many times before, from the Mill Croft footpath to the Minch and back:  four miles, four hours each way; two to Corodale’s peak, two more to the shore, and the same in reverse.  When I last did it twelve years ago, I needed only seven hours, but the hill seems to have grown since then.  Profiting from my previous error, I wore hiking shoes instead of boots, but this time the ground was wet, so the shoes, saturated with water, weighed me down as badly as the boots had done, and my feet got soaked besides.  At least, though, I had sense enough to keep Corodale directly behind me when we returned.  This brought us back to the path, which made that final mile much easier.

How do summer walks compare to spring, fall and winter ones?  There are trade-offs.  Summer affords more daylight, but at a price:  heat and midges.  The ground is drier (that’s relative!), but it can nevertheless be spongy, and the grass and heather are taller.