Monday 13 February 2012

Spanked on A'Chralaig



Sitting in work listening to people at lunch-time say "You should pop out, Kevin, it's lovely out there...." I just knew that with a week off and my first day up North, the weather would be keech. And so I was proved right. However, as I drove past Loch Laggan, I was lucky enough to have a cracking view over to Binnein Shuas (or is it the other ene?). As I sat and took a couple of snaps, the ice at the edge of the loch crackled and snapped with the tidal sway. It was wonderful. BUT I had some hills to climb. My target for today was A'Chralaig and its partner in Kintail. Weather pending. I knew the forecast was pretty mince but as I left my car, it wasn't drastic and I could see the top of Am Bathach. Surely it couldn't get that bad before the next high pressure moved in? The ascent from the road is unrelenting but is great for higher aspirations and within 90 mins, I was at about 800m and things levelled off - should be fine from here. I strode past a small cairn and quite simply was hit with a body punch out of nowhere. A Westerly wind sprang forth and I was doing my best not to be forced over towards the large cornices. Jings - it was goggles and extra bunnet time. I checked the map and I still had a fair bit to go. I'd carry on and appraise further up. I was never so glad to see the monstrous cairn and it provided some shelter, albeit my goggles had totally frozen and were now useless. My face was stinging and it was only after I had photo'd masel, did I realise that a nice ice beard was building up. I peered out into the Wintry blast and the snow was getting in behind my goggles - it felt like it was getting in behind my cerebrum - how was that possible? Rather than return via my route, I checked the map to see if there was a quick way off this hill. I headed SW and found myself at the top of a large coire - I kept S of the crags - it was steep but looked do-able. Then I was on my arse and sliding nicely for about 30 feet before I could get that ice axe to bite. F*** me, this was desperate. Never have I been so glad to get feet on a path and walk back to the car. By the time I hit the 300m mark, my jacket which had been frozen was now sodden and I could feel the first trickle of bum damp. Back at the car relieved, I changed only to cast my eye on a rather intact adult magazine at the side of the parking area - Men Only - looked like an old one - indeed, 85p on the front cover. A voluptuous lady was clad in the lingerie and I shot off towards the Cnoc Inn, my destination for the evening, leaving her behind. Two pints of Red Kite and a venison casserole later and one can relax and say it was a great day on the hill once again. A dram of the Tamnavoulin please....

No comments: