Great balls of fire and a big chopper on Derry Cairngorm and Ben Macdui

After a fantastic night's sleep and cooked breakfast at Gordon's B&B in Braemar, I was tooled and fuelled up for a big day out in the Cairngorms. I drove along the lovely road to Linn of Dee and parked up. I was travelling relatively light though I did have the waterproofs just in case. Conditions were excellent being cool, slightly overcast and just enough visibility to suggest some good photaes later on. I pegged it down to Derry Lodge and began the ascent up Derry Cairngorm. I had noticed a helicopter circling around the area and while it wasn't long before I was up at the 900m mark, neither was it long before the big chopper emitted a flare not 50 yards from me. What was going on? I continued on before out of nowhere the bloody thing came down to land not 100 feet from me. Were they going to take my camera from me? Was this someone's sick idea of a joke in trying to prevent me from bagging some more hills? No matter, I took off and proceeded up the final slopes of Derry Cairngorm and it's large boulder cairn. There wasn't time to waste and I ran down towards Carn Echtachan. By this time, I had began to experience some mild irritation in the scrotal area and as I pushed on past Coire Sputan Dearg, it became worse and worse. I had never experienced baw-chafe before but it was becoming very sore. I tried everything to alleviate things. I opened my trouser zip and ran thinking the cold air would help. I stopped and exposed all for at least 5 minutes but while that cooled the affected area, God also made woman in man's image. As the weather turned much colder, I began the last climb up towards the huge cairn and OS trigpoint, keeping a look out for the Old Grey Man. Fortunately, I arrived just as a fellow bagger was leaving and he managed to take a shot of me looking all happy at the top. I managed some lunch in a great wee shelter and then took off down the Sron Riach ridge. As I walked like John Wayne down the glen, I wondered how much damage had been done to my future weans. The walkout was long and relatively uneventful apart from a couple of Bambi experiences but once I got back to Chris Bruce's B&B I partook of a fine Cairngorm ale with a hearty meal. An excellent day out although singe-ing in the shower was not a pleasant experience.

Who let the dog out on Glas Tulaichean?

Not a thinly veiled reference to the classic pop song of 2005 but having parked at the Spittal of Glenshee, I began my walk up towards Glas Tulaichean and as I began to relax and enjoy the great outdoors, a barking voice shouted "Wherever you're going, it's the wrong way." A large woman approached and continued on "I don't understand why walkers with maps get mixed up with the wrong glen." At first, I thought it was Colin Montgomerie in drag and so I didn't respond as convincingly as I should have. Who did this woman think she was? Hadn't she heard of Pud and his Munro efforts, maps or nae maps? I thanked her for re-directing me towards the right glen and spent the next hour trying to calm down. As I meandered along the old rail-track which leads to the old and crumbling Glenlochsie lodge, I spotted the terrible path behind the lodge. It was a complete eyesore and clearly had been used to good effect in carrying the higher echelons in society to do a spot of shooting, in their Lend Rovas. Indeed, what was a proletarian like myself doing out here? I was not worthy. I sped up the A6 in quick time and spotted my target in the distance and had the pleasure of seeing 3 deer running across the path in front of me. Beinn a Ghlo was off in the distance and I could see Carn an Righ. As I summitted, I chilled out and had some lunch - a rather poor effort of Mother's Pride sandwiches, with jam and peanut butter (organic!). Within minutes, the clag moved in and I could see bugger all. It was 1500 and I had said i'd be at my B&B for 1700 so decided to leave the 2nd peak for another time as I had a big hillday planned the next day. The descent was uneventful and a relaxing walk out was only marred by a golden lab running up to me and barking in a non-friendly manner. Deja-ju....

Hot and cold on Bidean Nam Bian

The forecast was superb; so good in fact that I left any sheep-like material in the car. Andrew, my future brother-in-law was joining me and was keen to tackle one of the 'wee hills' in Scotland. He had thrown down the gauntlet and I was keen for him to enjoy a typical Scottish hill. We hit the car park at 0830 in order to beat the hordes and began our walk up to Coire nan Lochan. It was a pleasant meander but I still felt the legacy of the Ben Lomond race and was probably not walking to my partner's comfort. Andrew revelled in the shites for shore eyesh and was snap-happy with new camera. We eventually got onto the ridge up to Stob Coire Nan Lochan and once we topped out, the view was utterly amazing. The steep buttress of Bidean ahead, a sweep round to Loch Linnhe and beyond and Sgreamhach in the distance. We decided to have lunch here and I brought out 2 cans of root beer - how good was that. Andrew had sandwiches but he obviously wasn't aware of the 'lunch du jour' competition. My pasta, cajun chicken-rice concoction won hands down. We got going and began the last steep climb towards Bidean. We took our glory shots, headed down the ridge towards Sgreamhach, then the slippery descent to the Hidden Valley. We both 'glissaded' down the snow slope, which was much fun and then once at the foot of the Hidden Valley, Andrew decided to take a dip in a wee pool. I knew he was daft but allowed him to proceed. As he submerged himself, he shouted "Aaaah, this is just.....freaking freezing!" He departed the lochan tout de suite with no lack of haste and no crotch. After I had tested the watter (fecking baltic), we dried off and headed back to the car. It truly was a majestic day and one to remember.