Ranked by dignity retained, which is the only metric that has ever mattered to me at a river. Each one carries a Squelch Index in brackets: hours from the far bank until my socks stopped making a noise. All nine are in the north west, all nine are real, and two of them are bridges, because a bridge is a river crossing and I refuse to be shamed about it.
9. The River Oykel, at Oykel Bridge. (Squelch: 0.0) There is a bridge. It is a lovely bridge. Cross it slowly and look pleased with yourself. Worth saying that Mountaineering Scotland make the point that a bridge drawn on a map is not a promise that a bridge exists, so when one does exist you should be openly grateful.
8. The River Shiel, at Shiel Bridge. (Squelch: 0.0) Also a bridge, and there is a shop. Two crossings in and I have not been wet once. This is the high point of the list and everything after here is downhill.
7. The Kyle of Durness. (Squelch: 0.0, seated) You do not wade this. You take the boat, which runs roughly May to September and only when the weather and the tide agree. It is a tidal estuary, the water goes both directions, and the sand is not on your side. People have looked at it at low water and thought about it. Do not be that person.
6. The River Dionard, Strath Dionard. (Squelch: 1.5) Knee deep on a flat sandy bed and honestly pleasant. This is the one place the standard advice flips: Mountaineering Scotland say to keep boots on for protection and stability, except on a flat sandy bed, where you can reasonably go barefoot. Sand is the only riverbed in Scotland that will not bite you.
5. The Ling, at Maol Bhuidhe. (Squelch: 3.0) The bothy sits in a bowl with three rivers around it and every one of them can become impassable in spate. Which means the crossing you should be worrying about is not the one that gets you in, it is the one that gets you out the next morning after it has rained all night. I have sat in that bothy watching the level and eating my emergency oatcakes and it is a very slow way to learn planning.
4. The River Carnach, below Sourlies. (Squelch: 4.0) Time it against the tide and against the rain, in that order. The flats at the head of Loch Nevis are beautiful and completely uninterested in your schedule. Pick your line from higher up before you drop down, because from the bank you cannot see what is downstream of you, and what is downstream of you is the entire question.
3. The Abhainn Gleann na Muice, below Shenavall. (Squelch: 5.5) Second of the pair, and the one where I crossed with three strangers in line astern, all facing upstream, strongest at the front, each of us gripping the rucksack of the person ahead. It works absurdly well. It also means you are now committed to four people's judgement, so agree the turnaround point before anyone steps in.
2. The Abhainn Strath na Sealga, below Shenavall. (Squelch: 7.0) Thigh deep, brown, moving faster than it looked from the door of the bothy. Undo the hipbelt and the sternum strap first. A pack fills with water and then it holds you down, and the whole point of a rucksack is that it does not come off, which is exactly the wrong feature at that moment. Walking pole planted upstream, two feet and one pole make a tripod, move one leg of the tripod at a time. Wren (@lowtide) wades for a living and reckons the trick is to accept the cold inside the first three seconds instead of negotiating with it, and Wren is right, and I still negotiate with it every time.
1. The burn above the Falls of Glomach. (Squelch: 0.0) Dignity: none, and I did not get wet. I stood at the edge in hail on day five, looked at the water, looked at where it went, and turned round to walk back up 300 m of ascent I had just given away to find a line further upstream. It took ninety minutes and I was in a foul temper the entire time. It is also the only entry on this list I am actually proud of.
Never cross upstream of a waterfall, a gorge, or anything you cannot see the bottom of. Mountaineering Scotland's guidance on river crossings is that avoidance is the whole game, and they give three options when a crossing worries you: change your route, walk to a bridge, or sit down and wait for the level to drop. All three of those are slower than crossing. All three of them work. A river in spate on the west coast can drop by a useful amount in a few hours, and you almost always have a few hours.
The Squelch Index is a joke. The technique is not. Every part of it above comes from people who cross water for a living. My own contribution to the field is that I once let go of a boot in the Carnach and walked into Barrisdale wearing one boot, one sock and a great deal of silence, so learn the tripod and hold onto your gear like it costs money, because it does.