Beinn Alligan

Beinn Alligen is the rounded mountain on the left. Liathach is the mountain on the far right, shrouded in cloud. This picture was taken from the other side of Loch Torridon.

Spirit of place

There seem to be many different types of spirits, from hauntings caused by violent death and those who do not realise that they have died to nature spirits that Shamanistic religions revere. One such spirit I came across in my wanderings helped me.

I was on holiday with my family and my brother-in-law's family in the Highlands of Scotland. We had rented a croft in Shieldaig, on Loch Torridon so that the men in the family could prove their manhood by climbing the mountains. I too had wished to climb, but at my own speed rather than the frenetic pace they travel at. I had already tried to climb one of the local peaks with the other women in the group and had been deeply frustrated when they had insisted in aborting the ascent due to the midges. So I decided to go off on my own to climb Beinn Alligan. It is considered one of the gentler slopes and one least likely to cause trouble for a lone walker.

I left early on a summers morning, with food, water, map and suitable clothing. I arrived at the car park at the foot of the mountain early enough for there to be only a few cars visible. I had decided to go up the mountain in the opposite direction to the general way as it meant I could climb to the top, and then descend by a less used route which avoided the difficult bits of the climb - the horns of Alligan.

The climb was easy but fairly tiring. The ground was boggy but the path was visible. I reached the bowl of the Coire an Laoigh with the mountain still to myself. Suddenly I was aware that I was not alone. I had been joined by a very happy spirit. It swooped down to me from the top of the coire and was literally dancing around me beaming joy. I stopped walking to commune with it and was astonished to discover that it was a mountain spirit which I named Tom. The reason for the name was that the first peak I would come to at the top of the coire was Tom na Gruagaich, and I certainly could not pronounce the second part of that.

Tom told me that it was the mountain spirit and was happy that I had come to see its mountain, the most beautiful and gentle of the mountains of Scotland, not like Liathach next door. Liathach had a nasty cruel spirit that lived there, one that hated humans and was known to push them off the top. This information did not please me too much as that was where my husband and brother-in-law had gone to climb. Tom accompanied me as I made a push for the top of the coire, and then for the peak itself. There I stopped to gaze across the landscape and marvel at the view towards Skye. I could write much about that view, but it not the point of the story, Tom is. Together we left the first peak of the Munro and walked towards the second, Sgurr Mhor, past the scar Eag Dhuibh.

Once I reached the second Munro peak I was going to leave the well trodden path so as to avoid the horns of Alligen which would involve climbing, something I would not do alone, the earlier part of the climb had been hill walking rather than mountaineering. The back of Sgurr Mhor went down at a gentle slope to another path that went between Beinn Allingen, Laithach and another mountain that was just under Munro height and ultimately returned to the car park. This was the path I was going to follow. As I descended the gentle slope Tom started to flutter around me, trying to insist I go over the horns. I told it that I was too scared to go on to the horns alone. Tom said it would take care of me. When I insisted on going the other way Tom sighed and left me, saying that there were other climbers on its mountain now who need it.

I carried on down the gentle slope and on to the rock outcroppings. What I had not noticed on the map was the cliff edges (I am not the best of map readers), Actually, I had noticed them but thought that they looked easy. I was wrong. The path was no longer easy to find as a path does not show up on rock and there were no more cairns to mark it. Most people went over the horns so why mark it? I began to get worried as I found myself on giant steps of rock faces and no rope to use to get me down. I tried to climb down a few of the faces and found myself looking down a cliff too large for me to handle. I started to lose it, so I sat down and cried to myself. Then suddenly I noticed that Tom was back with me. Tom soothed and comforted me and encouraged me to go back the way I had come, then along the top of the cliff until I suddenly heard the waterfall I knew I had to find from the map. Tom literally took my hand and led me to the cairn by the waterfall where walkers had to cross it. It had brought me back to the path. Tom said that its beautiful mountain was there for pleasure, not to harm humans, and then left me to follow the path back to the car parked three miles away.

I always think of Tom when other 'ghost stories' seem to refer more to nature spirits rather than hauntings. Tom was not human and never had been. It was the spirit of the mountain made manifest. Those who had the sensitivity to feel Tom would, as I had. To me Tom was a spirit of place.

(c) Judy Farncombe 1999

Update on Spirit of Place story:

Martin and his brother Frank went to climb Beinn Eighe in April 2000. This Munro is very close to Beinn Alligan where I met Tom the nature spirit. Once they had reached the peak of Ruadh-stac Mor after climbing through the Coire Mhic Fhearchair Martin had his own encounter with a mountain spirit. He and his brother were planning to celebrate the assent of this Munro by urinating on the cairn marking the peak (unpleasant boyish habit but what can I do about males and their revolting domination games, having conquered the peak they wanted to pee on it!) As they were talking about doing the dirty deed Martin felt a very strong and disapproving presence just behind him saying he better not do it. So discretion being the name of the game - after all they had to climb down the mountain now they had reached the top - he did not. Martin always thought Tom was one of my wackier experiences, now he thinks there is a little more to these nature spirits after all!

My apologies for the impossible mountain names, they are Celtic and I had to check the spellings from one of our books on the Munro peaks of Scotland.

(c) Judy Farncombe 2000

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