Mountain in the spotlight: Goatfell

Lucy: Last weekend, Wally and I rode our bikes along the dusty forest road that leads to the tiny hill fort at Dun Fionn. We took the last bit of path on foot: down, and then up to the tumulus that sits at the eastern end of the ridge. From here there are incredible views south to Holy Isle, and a ringside seat looking north over Brodick Bay to the magnificent Goatfell Range in the North of Arran. These rocky peaks are closed to us for now, as we must stay home and safe to protect the NHS. However, from our little perch, I could easily imagine myself there, back among the summits on such a beautiful, sunny day.

From this direction, Goatfell itself dominates the skyline. It’s the highest point on Arran at 874m above sea level. Gazing wistfully at Goatfell and its siblings, I was inspired to write, and so here is the first of a series of posts on the website, where we will put the spotlight on our favourite Arran mountains. It seems fitting to begin with the greatest, and most well loved of all.

Goatfell from Dun Fionn

Goatfell is clearly visible from the towns on the Ayrshire coast, and draws crowds on sunny weekends. Most will take the path from Brodick that commences with a steep climb up from the Brewery and through the NTS Brodick Castle grounds. The mountain itself is also cared for by the National Trust for Scotland, who manage the natural conservation of the area and maintain the paths. Despite their hard work, the route to the top is rough and steep, and frequently underestimated by the throngs.

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Goatfell is beset by stories and legends. In 1889, a young Edwin Rose met his end on the rocky flanks, and his companion John Laurie, stood trial for and was convicted of grisly murder. It seems more likely that Rose fell, and poor Laurie fled, thus incriminating himself in a crime that didn’t take place. Rose is interred under a heavy boulder in the churchyard in Glen Sannox, and his boots were buried below the high tide mark, to prevent his ghost from straying far and bothering the villagers.

In another legend, a golden eagle stole a baby goat from a small herd resting near the summit, causing the others to panic and tumble one after the other down the steep slabs in to Glen Rosa, giving the mountain its name. Disappointingly, there’s no strong evidence that goats were ever on the mountain and this quirky tale was probably made up to entertain children.

It is much more probable, that the name “Goatfell” is a lovely mishmash of languages, giving away the chequered history of Arran. Fell is a common Norse or Viking word, meaning mountain. Arran was the property of the Norwegian Crown until the 13th Century, when the Vikings ceded the island to the Scottish Crown, and there are plenty of Norse names on Arran that are testament to this period. It is thought that the “Goat” bit comes from the Gaelic gaoth, meaning windy. If this is the case then Goatfell is well named, as the summit frequently endures the full force of gales from the Irish Sea.

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Despite being small, and crowded by a trig point and a viewpoint, the summit is quite a confusing place in poor visibility. It is easy to lose the safe route off after pausing on the summit, and sadly the mountain has been the scene of a number of fatal accidents. The route from Brodick is seen by some as being straightforward, but in poor weather this mountain is as dangerous as any.

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The Brodick path is not the only route up, but it is the easiest. Personally I prefer to begin my ascent in the village of Corrie to the north. From here a steep trail pushes upwards in to the concealed bowl of Coire Lan. It is possible to strike out across the Corrie Burn and join the main ridge from here, or to continue on to the head of the coire, and a bealach to the north of North Goatfell. The Stacach ridge that hangs between Goatfell and it’s northerly brother is one of the finest scrambles on lean, clean granite that I know. The terrain here is quite serious, and route finding on and off the blocky tors along the ridge is complicated. In places a slip would be devastating. There are named rock climbs here, and a grade 1 winter gully called Stacach Gully on the eastern flank. A tiny traverse path that is hidden from view sneaks under the buttresses on the east side and is often the more sensible option.

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Either way, you will be getting hands on with Arran’s gorgeous, rugged granite. Formed at the heart of a monster volcano 65 million years ago, Arran granite is coarse, pocketed and split by deep parallel cracks. Rough under foot or hand, when dry it is delightfully trustworthy, but if wet, it is a slippery customer. Weather is always a game changer in these mountains, and change it frequently does.

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Winter snows add another dimension, and although often fleeting and transient, this is a rewarding season if you have time and patience. Goatfell holds the snow best of all the peaks, and the northern approaches most of all. Even on the southeast flank, a huge pillow of snow often builds up over the main path, with a steep, worrying runout when firm- ice axe and crampons essential. If soft and slabby, this spot is undoubtedly a potential avalanche location.

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In winter as in summer, the top is often swaddled in cloud. If you are lucky enough to get a view from the ridge or summit, it is hard not to be moved by the maginificent views across Glen Rosa, to the three Beinns, Cir Mhor and Caisteal Abhail. If you look further, you’ll see Kintyre, and then beyond that the switchback humps of the Paps of Jura. It is not unusual to spy the hills of the Antrim coast to the southwest. I have seen Goatfell from Ben Ledi in the Trossachs, and from the Ballachulish Horseshoe in Glencoe so am sure that these mountains are visible from the summit too, if only they could be picked out.

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In these days of Lockdown my mind wanders often to all these places, but most of all to the summit of Goatfell. I know it so well, it is like a home to me, but at the moment a home that I cannot visit.