Ben Cruachan - Egg and Smoked Salmon Rolls
Dawn, Ice Axes, and egg sandwiches: A Winter Munro Adventure!
January slipped through my fingers like morning frost melting in the sun. Between jury service and fighting off winter ailments, the month seemed determined to keep me indoors. Sometimes though, the best stories come from those rare moments when everything aligns, the storm passes and you find yourself tip-toeing past creaky floorboards at 5 AM, heading toward a snow-capped Munro that's been patiently waiting and relying on an old and trusty sandwich filling:
Ben Cruachan
The alarm was set for 5:30 am. I’d been tossing and turning all night, watching the clock, then woke at 5. Nervous, apprehensive, and excited, all bundled into one.
I’d been invited on a Munro trip with my brother-in-law and his pal. The forecast promised blue skies, snow, and the quintessential winter views that you see on picture postcards. The ones that don’t mention a -10°C (14°F) wind chill factor, which was also in the forecast. I’d packed enough food for an Arctic expedition and still worried I hadn’t got the right clothing.
I rolled out of bed....gently....picked up my silent phone in the dark, then tiptoed around the creaky floorboards. The one just in the doorway nearly caught me, but I escaped under the sound of breathing that only occurs when someone is sleeping. I flicked off the alarm with a swipe or two and continued downstairs with the pile of clothing I’d left in the hall.
The fridge blazed with dazzling light as I took out the supplies, egg and smoked salmon rolls, a tub of grapes, and some orange juice. I wasn’t driving, so I packed my breakfast for later as well. Keen not to kick my metabolism off too early, I stuck to a cup of tea while writing this intro. The precious few mintues keeping a 10 minutes a day writing habit.
At 5:45, the lady of the house appeared. I hadn’t been as quiet as I thought, or maybe it was the hidden movement of the shadows as I nudged them to and fro. I made her a coffee and took it up. My ride promptly arrived just before 6, and I was ready.
The first hour was in darkness, the commuting traffic heavier on the other side of the road, streams of headlights eager to get to work while we headed for the hills. Past Stirling and a car swap at Callander, nice to be a passenger for a change.
From that point, the road twisted and turned into the southern Highlands. By 7:30, the light began to creep in behind us, caressing the snow-capped hills. Majestic Ben Lui stood ahead, cloaked head to toe in white. Another 20 minutes, and the usual debate about the best place to park began. We weren’t the first out....several cars already in the layby. We took the last space.
I’m no stranger to Munros, a hundred and nine under my belt now, though my last one was in August. A cycle in and a gradual, gentle walk by Munro standards before the height kicked in. This one, though, was practically from sea level and straight up from the word go. Like stepping out of the car and climbing the stairs from a basement in a multi-storey car park. I was already tired just from putting my boots on.
A fully loaded rucksack, four layers, and a pair of long johns. A loan of some crampons and an ice axe, just in case. Real mountaineering...for me, anyway. The big time of a Scottish January hill.
From the road, we couldn’t see Cruachan for the trees. A steep pull from the layby had us weaving through oak, birch, and hazel, the path slick with frost and leaf litter. The Allt Cruachan tumbled alongside, its voice growing louder as we climbed. We tried to keep a steady rhythm, bootsteps crunching, conversation flowing between the two pals, while I managed only heavy breathing and the occasional muttered curse. My brother-in-law’s ice axe, strapped to his rucksack, kept snagging on branches, sending them snapping back like a catapult.
Beyond the tree line, the landscape opened up. A deer fence and stile marked the transition to the colder, higher ground. The morning light caught the dam ahead, a vast, imposing wall of concrete set against the rising slopes. The path leading to the dam wall was boggy in places.
I’m reading Wool at the moment, the novel that inspired the 1 TV series. A deep bunker keeping 10,000 folk alive and then some with huge twists that keep you on the edge of your seat. I couldn’t help relate this section of concrete to that story, albeit this likely would be one floor of the silo. Today though a huge piece of concrete keeping the elements at bay. In this case, the water supply for a huge hydroelectric plant under the mountain2. We climbed the steps and were met with a stunning horseshoe view.
We then joined a man-made track, a welcome change. Wide, solid, and a chance to catch our breath. The force-feeding of Haribo Zingfests began (rude not to). Puddles sat in frozen sheets, cracking and splintering at the touch of a pole, a sound that took me straight back to childhood, the same as jumping through autumn leaves in wellies.
Curving west around the reservoir, the going was fairly easy until we reached the turning point and the end of the reservoir.
We turned left and began the zig-zag climb. The higher we got, the more the wind found us. Layers zipped up, hoods pulled tight. Snow was patchy at first, gathered in dips and hollows, but ahead, the slopes were a different story, white, wind-scoured, and waiting.
After a solid three and a half hours, we made it to the top. Wow. A few minutes to admire the view, and my brother-in-law attempted a Burns poem he’d failed to recite on Burns Night. Then, we tucked into our individual bait boxes. For me...egg and smoked salmon rolls.
The hike is described as one of the finest Munros in the southern Highlands, with jagged peaks, rocky ridges, and spectacular views. It didn’t disappoint. At the same time, there was no mention of the knee pain on the descent and stiffness that would come from not being mountain-fit. Nor was there mention of the euphoria, my mind still buzzing from the high, moments of awe, and the exercise for both body and mind.
Egg and Smoked Salmon Rolls




This is one of our go to travel recipes, easy to make the night before and keeps the roll fairly fresh. We’ve been known to make a whole loaf of bread up for airport travel days, and the sandwhiches keep for the day after as well. Typically I’ll boil two eggs per person. So scale per preference. The photo above would be four eggs, two rolls each. The recipe below used two large rolls, and I knew I was going to be hungry so snuck in an extra egg!
Ingredients
2 large brown wholemeal rolls
3 eggs
25-50g smoked salmon, broken into pieces
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
black pepper (to taste)
Method
1. Boil the eggs
Place the eggs in a pan and pour boiling water over them until fully submerged
Bring to a gentle boil and simmer for 10 minutes
Once done, transfer the eggs to cold water until cool enough for peeling
2. Prepare the filling
Peel the cooled eggs and place them in a bowl
Add the smoked salmon and mayonnaise
Mash everything together with a fork until well combined
Season with a little black pepper to taste
3. Assemble the rolls
Slice the wholemeal rolls in half
Spoon the egg and smoked salmon mixture onto the bottom half of each roll
Place the top half on and press lightly
4. Climb to the top of the mountain and Enjoy!
Perfect fresh or wrapped up for later
SILO, the apple TV series inspired by the books from Hugh Howey.
The hollow mountain: The dam we circled sits like a giant's doorstep in hollow of this horseshoe of a mountain. Stretching over 300 meters across and as tall as a 15-story building, it holds back enough water to fill 4,000 Olympic swimming pools. This impressive piece of engineering isn't just a landmark for weary hikers - it's a crucial part of Scotland's power network, helping keep the lights on across the country.
Delicious and a delightful read. Now I am off to find that book!
Those salmon and egg rolls look delicious! I'm also a 10-minute egg boiler — even if now the chefs are saying we need to spend 32 minutes on an egg (!!): https://www.nytimes.com/2025/02/06/science/boiled-egg-science-recipe.html