The first time I saw Suilven, I was 9 years old. A photograph in a children’s atlas, given by my grandfather. The outline struck me and stayed with me. One day, I thought, I’ll go and see that.
Four decades on. October 2017 and there I was, striding along a rough track towards the mountain of my childhood. My wife and I were in Assynt, and I had a ‘day pass’ to do a hill. But which one? Should I bag Ben More Assynt and Conival? Take on the alien shape of Quinag? No contest; it could only be Suilven.
It was dark when I parked. As the day dawned, Suilven’s dome and tail emerged from the gloom. The walk in was good, and soon enough I left the track for the path towards Suilven. The first half of the path was new and solid, the second half was boggy; nothing tricky. Walking between the small lochs at the foot of the climb, I surprised some basking trout as I crossed the streams. First person on the hill that day, and still early. Don’t know which of us jumped the most!
The climb was easy enough. Steep, but the path is good. What I didn’t expect was the view at the bealach. Yes, I knew the poem:
I claw that tall horizon down to this;
And suddenly
My shadow jumps huge miles away from me.
But nothing prepares you for the suddenness. Of land and loch, of coast and hill, stretching far away. Stac Pollaidh standing proud, dwarfed by her big sister.
A confession. I dropped back and stepped up again, just because.
And then, the Destitution Wall. I knew of it, but nothing prepares you for its folly, or its beauty. Dressed stone at 2000’. Victorian madness at its best.
And so, the ascent to the dome. It was windy, but the cairn gave shelter. Time to rest. Time to eat. Time to contemplate ages past, in a landscape of incomprehensible time and depth.
My past, brought present. A dream fulfilled. You don’t conquer mountains. You cooperate. You show them respect, and they let you in.
Later on, drinking coffee at Suileag Bothy, I look back at ancient and mighty Suilven. I am quiet. I could stay all day and all night. Suilven, I’ll be back. Hasta la vista.
Just About Leading 
Its the most fantastic little hill, when we climbed from the moor to the bealach, at one point we stopped & looked down, & there was a roe deer following us up!
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