‘Mhòr And More’

More Than A Trail Guide

By Nancy K. Crevier

South Uist lies to the west of mainland Scotland, one in a chain of that country’s outermost islands, the lower Outer Hebrides. Just 22 miles long by eight miles wide, it is bisected in the middle by three major hills, Beinn Mhor, at 2,034 feet; Corrodale, 1,729 feet; and Hecla, 1,988 feet. They are a trio of several that makes up the rugged terrain. Nearly all of the habitation and cultivation are found to the west of these hills, with only two narrow tracks extending to the east, 6½ miles apart from each other. From the hills east to the Atlantic, barely a trace of civilization is to be found.

It is an island rich with the legend of Bonnie Prince Charlie, who fled to South Uist following his upset at the last of the Jacobite uprisings in 1745, and rich in natural beauty. Lochs (lakes) hidden from the few roads that cross the island come into view from hilltops, and soft lavender heather spreads across the vistas. It is an island remote, yet inviting, and Newtown resident Martin Margulies has answered that invitation, building a holiday home there, and familiarizing himself with the culture of South Uist and the hills — small mountains of nearly 2,000 feet, in actuality — that beckon the adventurer.

Mr Margulies is a law professor, a civil rights lawyer, a member of the Connecticut Citizens’ Ethics Advisory Board, and tennis coach for Newtown High School. He is also the author of two books, The Early Life of Sean O’Casey, published in 1971, and The Battle of Prestonpans 1745, in 2007, and is currently looking forward to the March release of his newest book, Mhòr and More.

Mhòr and More is a collection of the columns Mr Margulies has written over the past four years for the monthly newspaper of lower outer Hebrides, Am Paipear, concerning his experiences “hill walking” South Uist. “Mhòr” is Scottish Gaelic for “great” or “big,” an apt description of the “Beinns” or “Bens” (mountains) about which the book is written.

The essays are a kinder, gentler trail guide for those who seek a challenging hike, with Mr Margulies frequently poking fun at himself for the lessons the hills have taught him since he first began his explorations. It is a book filled with historical and topographical facts, and tips for best routes to summits, as well as a guide to the interesting nooks and crannies along the way, for hikers who venture to the rather isolated island. It is also an entertaining read for the armchair hiker.

Mr Margulies’s attraction to South Uist began over 20 years ago, in 1987.

“I had been to Scotland and had read about the islands. The remoteness attracted me. They are almost the last largely Gaelic speaking communities left, as far as I know, although they are completely bilingual,” he said. There was a curiosity factor that drew him to South Uist, he said, and to a smaller extent, his interest in Scottish history.

He began to return to South Uist more often following his first trip in 1987 — and first attempt at hiking in the hills of South Uist, chronicled in one of the early essays — “and eventually I let it be known to friends there that I was interested in buying and building there,” he said.

He was fortunate enough to have a friend sell him a piece of land “overlooking a loch [lake] and sheltered on two sides by large hills,” said Mr Margulies. It is from here that he sets out nearly every day, walking the hills. Occasionally he is joined on less strenuous walks by his wife, Beth, or on the more vigorous expeditions by his sons Max and Adam, or a friend. But largely his hill walking is a solo experience.

“I’ve always enjoyed hiking. If I saw a high hill, I wanted to climb it. But I was never a serious hiker and that’s why I made a number of mistakes along the way,” Mr Margulies admitted.

Among them was his first foray on Ben Mhòr, in October 1987.

“I wore sneakers and a light sports jacket, and carried neither an ordnance map nor a compass,” writes Mr Margulies. It was only dumb luck, he now admits, that the outing did not end in disaster. He finally learned to respect the hills, though, with his greatest misadventure, as described in Mhòr and More.

“My luck ran out a decade later, when a Coast Guard helicopter winched me from the base of Mheall Mhòr at 3 am. The ‘copter circled for an hour before descending. One of the crew explained that its heat sensors could not distinguish me from the sheep that were roaming the moor at the same hour — until the crew figured out that a sheep’s brains would give off more heat than mine, because a sheep had more sense. Point taken.”

He now knows to walk the hills in lined Wellington boots, and warm clothing, including gloves and a woolen cap, except in summer months. The inexperienced hill walker on South Uist would do well to carry an ordnance map, and Mr Margulies carries a compass “in case I lose visibility in a sudden mist. I use a walking stick to help me ford streams and feel out what — if anything — is under the heather in front of me,” he writes.

Simple food packed in a small rucksack and potable water is also essential.

“I tell people where I’m going, and for good measure leave a note next to the windshield of my car. Finally, I bring a flashlight or a cell phone,” he said. The latter two items are not because he expects to be out after dark, but rather should he ever be in need of helicopter service again, they would make the Coast Guard’s search easier. The embarrassment of that one experience, as well as recollection of a rather uncomfortable winching upward into the helicopter, serves as motivation whenever energy flags toward the end of the day, he said.

Never The Same Walk Twice

Hill walking South Uist is not a walk in the park, he stressed, and not for those who are less than quite fit. The walks begin, he pointed out, before the base of a hill is even reached. Heather tangles about the feet; tussocks, clumps of earth and weeds that accumulate in ditches, act as impediments; and boggy ground can quickly suck one in waist deep or worse. His own son learned that lesson the hard way.

“There are no real trails, there are no real paths even to the base, or to the summit of a hill. Getting there,” he said, “is half the fun.”

As he walks the hills, he takes notes that will be shaped into the essays, or jots down his impressions immediately following a hike. Most of the columns are actually crafted from his Newtown office, later in the year.

The beauty of hill walking on South Uist, and what he shares in his book, is that the walks are never the same twice. He has visited the island in nearly every month, and tries to hike every day, weather permitting, while visiting.

Hill walking, he said, uses all of the senses in a different way than the sport he plays and coaches in the warmer months in Newtown.

“With tennis, you are always focused ahead. Hill walking, I always have my head down when I am moving, and I’m watching where my feet are,” said Mr Margulies. Both require, though, a sharp eye, sure footing, and the ability to respond quickly to the unexpected.

Along with the terrain, the weather on South Uist demands respect. The weather is not the extremes a New Englander experiences, said Mr Margulies, but there are other real dangers, like the sudden mist.

Mr Margulies writes in Mhòr and More of an experience in 2006, when he and his sons found themselves suddenly encompassed by a thick cloud of mist, o a hill called Stulaval, 1,216 feet above sea level.

“We scrambled up Stulaval’s eastern slope, pausing every so often to turn and enjoy stunning views of Stuley Island and the Minch. As we neared the top, one of the boys said to me, ‘Don’t look, but that cloud has gotten bigger.’ It certainly had. Within moments, it had enveloped Stuley Island, and moments later it enveloped us, so that we could scarcely see one another, let alone our surroundings. Staying close together, we struggled through rain and mist to the summit, and reviewed our options.”

A cautious detour down Stulaval’s western slope added two hours to the late afternoon trip, bringing them home after dark, much to the grave concern of his wife and guests waiting there.

Gales are another consideration, when winds can swoop about the hills at speeds of between 50 and 70 miles per hour. “You end up crawling,” said Mr Margulies, who then added that being caught in a gale wind can be a nerve wracking experience.

In cooler months, timing of the hill walks is important so as not to get stuck outside overnight, when hypothermia can be an issue.

Gentle Corrections

And Suggestions

Reworking the collection of essays into book form gave him time to savor the experiences again, said Mr Margulies, and a chance to correct any errors.

“Sometimes in the shops on South Uist, people come up to me to share their experiences, or to correct a mistake I have made — in a very kind-spirited manner, or they make suggestions,” he said. He has been able to incorporate the corrections and suggestions into the book.

The hills of South Uist give him continuous pleasure, said Mr Margulies, and his hope is that the readers of Mhòr and More experience that pleasure, whether actually using the guides or enjoying the hill walking vicariously.

“Every time I think there aren’t new walks, I find there is something new, or some new direction to come from,” he said. A loch he has not seen before, a vista that leaves him breathless, or reaching a challenging summit provides delight year after year.

“Just getting up 2,000 feet and looking around is absolutely the best part. I don’t get bored or jaded,” he said, nor, he believes, will readers of Mhòr and More.

Mhòr and More is published by Islands Book Trust, a company devoted to “further understanding of the history of Scottish islands in their wider Celtic and Nordic context,” and publisher of books to “generate economic, social, and cultural benefits for local communities in the islands.”

“I feel very fortunate to have my book published by Islands Book Trust,” said Mr Margulies.

Mhòr and More will be available as of March 8 at www.amazon.co.uk and also at www.TheIslandsBookTrust.com.

Mr Margulies will host a book signing later this spring — but only for the truly adventurous, as he will found at a South Uist site.