The High Atlas. Hamish Brown

volcanic in origin. Jbel Toubkal, at 4167m, is the highest summit in all North Africa – hence, I suppose, its Ben Nevis, Snowdon, Mont Blanc, Kilimanjaro allure. And of course, just as there is more to Scotland than Ben Nevis, there is more to Morocco than Toubkal.

      Jbel Toubkal, highest summit in North Africa (4167m), from Imlil

      The mountains vary enormously, and a rolling plateau bump can entail as much of a challenge as some obviously rocky spire (like Cairngorms and Cuillin). There is a stark, barren look to the summer Atlas and it can be ferociously hot then, with periodic severe storms and water not always easy to find. I’ve always finished any year’s ploys by the end of June and often earlier. It is perfectly possible to trek in winter if one has winter climbing skills. The weather can often be sparklingly cold and clear, with periodic three-day depressions blasting through. We trekked every February for seven years with not a drop of precipitation. In the following year we were notably washed out again and again and, believe me, when it decides to be wet you will enjoy tropical thoroughness. The hard ground can’t absorb this assault, so the result is spate and flood and a thorough testing of survival skills. (A few examples are given in the subsequent chapters.) Memorable, of course! The sunny normal is so accepted that when old Atlas hands get together the reminiscences tend to be about flash flood and other encounters of a wetting kind. One friend made five annual visits of 2–3 weeks before he had rain.

      I know of people who have refused to visit the Atlas ‘because it is all so barren’. The summits indeed can be, but trekking, camping, village life and cultivation takes place or exists in the valleys, and they are intensely green or ablaze with blossom in spring – and it is that we happily recall. At the end of our big 96-day trek, against the list of our camps I put a symbol to mark the more memorable spots. I found I’d marked nearly all the sites. Being there and travelling through was every bit as important as success on any mountain. You can, of course, trek happily through the Atlas without going up any mountain – you may prefer this after reading some of the escapades described in this book!

      The Tichka Plateau, with Imaradene top right (Route 44)

      If you can cope with snow climbs, winter into spring is a good time to visit. I’d much rather plod up Toubkal on skis or using crampons than fight its summer waste of scree. Spring is the perfection, with blossom and life awakening, and as late as June alpine flowers will still be colouring high ground. By July the temperature is soaring and tends to stay so until the autumn equinox. Autumn has its attractions too – it is harvest time, and storms are less likely, but you’ll find a burnt-up landscape. November, December and January are the least good months, yet Christmas–Hogmanay in the Anti-Atlas or Jbel Sarho can be attractive. All the same, I’ve sat at a table in the Todra gorge with disconsolate climbers, looking out at the snow piling up on the palm trees. The weather seems to have become as erratic in Morocco as everywhere else. For years, early on, we did things on snow slopes (afoot or on skis) which we would never have done in the Alps. There were never any avalanches – until one year there was nothing else. Likewise, we never saw a flash flood – then, in the last years of the past century, they occurred again and again. Sensitivity to risk is vital, and is another reason for having locals along. Meld with the mountains and they mostly bless us.

Trekking routine

      Our routine for trekking is worth describing. We tend to rise early. This always pays off. Uphills are done in the cool, in winter the snow is firm, and there’s always time to change or retreat. As the mules travel at a faster pace than walkers, we set off first. The mule team usually passes at some stage, perhaps shares a noon grub stop, then goes on and has a big tent pitched in which they cook and sleep and which acts as mess tent as well. The rest of us bring our own tents for sleeping in. Early to bed is not difficult – well fed, logs written up, the morrow planned, eyes begin to droop.

      Welcome tea on reaching the next camp spot (Route 36)

      In some circumstances a peak may be done from a bivouac, in which case we backpack and so cut down on all the weight possible. We take no tent, but possibly a breathable bivvy bag, or just sleep under the stars. Accommodation in village houses (gîtes), especially when the heavens open, is also a growing possibility as tourism increases. My fondest memories, however, are of the great hospitality offered in villages so remote that no European has ever been there. Again, it is a matter of bending to circumstances and staying safe and happy even in the event of the shocks that mountains can land on puny humans.

      That this is a peopled landscape is astonishing. Centuries of terracing and a web of communicating mule tracks testify to the dedication of generations who have made a life in such a challenging environment. Not that this world is without sin; in the same way that much of the Scottish Highlands is wet desert and sterile from overgrazing and forest destruction, so the High Atlas has seen the same misuse with the same results. Make sure any party treats the landscape gently. Leave no litter, and burn and bury human waste well away from water – and see that muleteers are also clearly instructed.

Planning your trip

      It is difficult to select the ‘best peaks’ or the ‘highlights’ to recommend for a trip to the High Atlas. At some stage I made a list of the highest summits of the Atlas, taking ‘over 3500m’ as the mark. There proved to be nearly 40 of these, and I was astonished to find that I’d been on all of them at some time or other. Why not describe them? But just as Scotland’s Stac Polly falls way below Munro level, yet is every bit a superior hill, so there are endless good summits in Morocco below the 3500m or 3000m level.

      Making a selection of ‘the biggest and best’ seemed appropriate for this book (Appendix D lists the highest). But imagine the task if trying to pick out and detail 50 peaks in the Alps. As detail deadens rather than inspires, it was decided to describe the peaks from a personal perspective – to give first-hand accounts of their challenges – and to present them not as a tick-list but within the context of rewarding treks. I want to tell it as it was, to beguile others into emulation, and I have something of a moral obligation to do so, because nobody else can. Some peaks are most easily described in pairs or groups, so I’ve sneaked past the original concept of a neat 50.

      The escape climb out of the Wandras gorge (Route 16)

      My own wanderings have never been systematic. Time and again we would finish one trek/peak with most of the group demanding a return for some attractive continuation, while, at the same time, there was the lure of exploring completely new places. But isn’t this just what happens on the hills of home? Whoever did the Munros systematically?

      The mountains are described in this book from north-east to south-west, as the general line of the mountains run, with a brief note on the southern ranges and Rif at the end. The southern ranges (the Anti Atlas, Jbel Sarho and Sirwa) do have adequate guidebook descriptions elsewhere.

      I don’t know how often people ask me to give them ideas for a two-week Morocco visit. Of course they want to trek a bit, climb Toubkal, see the desert, ski, swim in warm seas and visit the cities of Fes and Marrakech. It is equivalent, I suppose, to someone wanting to visit the UK and see English cathedral cities, climb Ben Nevis, and see St Kilda, London, Shetland and the Irish islands, all in two weeks. Relax! And don’t even consider heading off for Toubkal the day after you fly in to Marrakech. Morocco can be such a tonic because, besides the exotic and the excitement, there is also a gentle timeless quality to life still. Westerners don’t realise how much of a pressure-cooker existence they endure. By operating as described, I watch group after group slowly relax and get in touch with reality again.

      Two weeks? Then do one of the peaks or trips described in this book, then fit in Toubkal quickly (you’ll be fit by then) and end with two days at Essaouira. You’ll be back for more. Starting with Toubkal and ending up lying at