Gleouraich and Spidean Mialach

After the Walkhighlands meet, I was feeling slightly fragile. 5 pints of Red Cuillin had gone down well 12 hours previously but I had a wee, sore heid. I popped a Co-codamol and began the walk up Gleouraich. The stalker's path is supreme and the initial steepness isn't too bad because of that. Fantastic views across to Sgurr Mor and beyond help. Things plateau'd out at 840m but I still had a last plod of 200m up to the beautifully perched cairn. The North face of this hill and its neighbour plunge away into the glen below and no doubt will hold snow for quite some period to come. It is a fair descent to the bealach and you really earn the 2 Munros here. A lovely sheltered cairn allows for lunch to had with views across the South Glen Shiel Ridge. I heard a dog barking at this point and could not for the life of me work out where it was coming from - until i remembered that I had changed my ringtone on my phone. Mum. Ko'd from work, puir sowel. I bounded down off the hill and found a great path back to the day's starting point. No doubting the effect of medication but the hills help too. Couple of great days in the Munros again. The 200-mark approacheth. The 12 in Skye in May will add to this considerably. Fingers crossed for good weather and next time take the Sun cream, Kev.

Creag Meagaidh - majestic and apt medication

Was invigorated after a 4 day trip to Iceland (not with the mums though) and had taken in some of the most wonderful scenery ever. I was quite sad coming back to Scotland after the spectacular beach at Vik in the South. I needed a great Scottish mountain to cheer me up and as the day was warm and sunny, Creag Meagaidh was the medication. I set off quite late in the day but the sun followed (and roasted) me through Coire Ardair. The cliffs, lochan and remarkable nature of that glacial cleft never fails to amaze me. It is one of the best coires in Scotland. My plan was to grab the summit then return over the South side of the cliffs and take in a couple of airy shots. I wasn't to be disappointed. Taking Meagaidh in from this angle, really does it justice and I sat out on a couple of the airy tops beside some small cairns, erected by the more courageous (or daft). At this point, a partner in crime would be useful but I wasn't going to try a 10-second shot and run for the vertiginous perch just in case I flew off the end - what a photo that would be. The trek back to the car felt like a bit of an anti-climax after the grandeur of what had gone before but I still had the Walkhighlands meet to look forward to. Furthermore, the Vik inhaler was no longer needed - Scotland isn't a bad place after all, is it?

The hare and me on Carn an Righ

This had been mooted as a potential date for myself, Graeme D and Curlywurly to meet up but I took the executive decision to stay East and grab this Munro, which had been a troublesome M-point for quite a while. Graeme texted me to say that he had been 'grounded' - quelle horreur! Daz was heading South to see Donalds. I parked at the Dalmunzie and paid my dues but it had a lovely look to it. I would return for afternoon tea. Got to be good to yourself. I decided to head via Glen Taitneach for the solitude. I really needed it. It had been a difficult few weeks but there may be sunshine ahead. Carn Bhinnein and it's shapely nipple were prominent as were the crags just below it - there even looked to be a decent rock climb on one of the towers. After a while, the land rover track petered out and I crossed the burn, which began its life in Loch nan Eun. The walk up to Glas Coire Bheag was steeper but to have walked to this point felt like it had required little effort. This boded well and I was really relaxed as I walked over towards the Mam nan Carn. A couple of walkers were descending off Tulaichean but I kept ahead - my competitive instinct cannot be quelled. The walk along to Carn an Righ was made even more pleasant by the morning clag being burned off and the profile becoming more apparent. The final hike up to the summit was much steeper but once at the cairn, I was alone and settled down to enjoy lunch in peace. Honey tea, melton mowbray pork pies, some Quality Street chocolates - wind diverted via the excellent shelter - bliss. I sat for 15 minutes and supped it all in. I decided to head back via the Tulaichean path but wanted to just head straight down off Carn an Righ before the steep re-ascent up towards the land rover track - while toughish, it offered the quickest way back to the best carrot cake I have ever had. Before I got there, I saw a mountain hare sitting happily, while the clouds broke behind him. Sometimes a day on the hill is made my such a fleeting moment and I cherished that experience. Great day out.

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....

Beinn Sgulaird - illegitimacy proven

The Bastard. According to local farmers but why? At only 937m, this is one of the smallest Munros. However, there are as many up and downs on this hill as there are to Tiger Woods non-golfing history. I started at 0930 and noted Ian Watson's car - he too was up there somewhere. It was a cold, clear day and the track from Loch Creran was steep. I spotted the cairn and started heading up the SW shoulder to point 488. The view back down Loch Creran was pretty and I figured I'd have this one in the bag in quick-time. Alas, there was a drop of about 50m from point 488, so I had this to re-ascend before entering the snow-line. it was quite a plod up to the 863m mark and from here, I could see I had quite a bit of distance to go but this was no ordinary ridge. Soft snow interspersed with boulders made for a tricky walk and what with more descent and re-ascent, it was beginning to feel like a bloody hard walk. A couple of walkers had come straight up the coire and once i finally reached the top, I really didn't hang about. 3 hours to this point. It was indeed a tough, little bastard. Rather than go back down the way I came, I continued N and then W down the steep slopes. I followed a chap in the distance down to the fence but traversed back to my destination rather than follow his descent. It wasn't until I got an old steading structure that I realised it was Ian and we chatted on the way back to the car. I arrived back in 5 hours, which I thought was decent going - only a 10 minute break for banana bread and tea. A cracking wee hill, which has to commend it even if the farmers don't agree.

Beinn Fionnlaidh (Glen Etive)

I have been looking to do this hill for years but I am loathe to do the hills so close to me as it leaves the other hills to do, a real distance. Despite this, the forecast was good and I would introduce Craig to remote Munros. We arrived at Invercharnan at 0940 and headed up the forest track, passing a makeshift Christmas tree. The temperate conditions of 11C belied the fact that the festive season is just round the corner. As we emerged from the forest, the Eastern crags of Beinn Fionnlaidh loomed above, with Sgor na-U-Laidh in the distance. We had discussed much including hydrocarbon breakdown, full farmer's breakfasts and le metro boulot dodo. We re-charged water from a stream and once on to the bealach at 589m, the views opened up to Glen Creran and some attractive valleys, with glittering lochans. The steep pull up to 859 allowed for a quick but sweaty ascent and from there, we were buffeted across the ridge up to Beinn Fionnlaidh summit. A couple of easy scrambles led to the cairn shelter and trig point where unfortunately, we were clagged in. Lunch was had with a fine brew and a rapid descent later, meant we were back at the car for 1510. An obligatory pint on the way back in Ardlui and a winning game of pool meant a fine day on the hill was had. The 190 M-point count was reached.

In Culra bothy with a 16-year old and impure thoughts

Sometimes you just wish you'd keep your mouth closed and stop yer tummy rumbling. A salient lesson from my Primary 7 teacher ignored. I had suggested to Graeme D that not only could we do the Ben Alder circuit from Culra bothy but we could add Carn Dearg on to this as well. As if it wasn't a long enough walk in and out. Why walk? Because we were purists and we didn't do mountain bikes. As we so proudly told the foursome on top of Ben Alder. How those words would come back to haunt me as we trudged back out past Culra on the way home 12 hours after starting out. It all started so well. I met Graeme at Dalwhinnie and we donned the head torches at 1800. The 10-mile walk in would afford a real stretch of the legs as well as time to catch up. A lot had happened in that space of time to both of us and 3 hours in the dark with a man was an unusual occurrence for me, and I presume Graeme. We covered everything from correct French statements, the accompanying 16-year old from Orkney, dire football teams (mine in particular) and babies (Graeme's in particular) - I know not the name of mine. Our pace was impressive until the 6th mile and we began to tail off round about Loch Pattack. However, we arrived at Culra and were the only ones there at 2100 - unusual on a Friday night. The fire got going, we opened our Loch affa Fyne beers and chilled out. Then, the Orcadian beauty was brought out and we savoured her. Hints of vanilla, smooth and mature for her age. My favourite Highland Park. Not long after we had fumigated ourselves with the fire, we put lights out in preparation for our big day. At 0530, we breakfasted and left the packs to tackle Carn Dearg. We hoped to see the hills as the sunrise came up and we were't disappointed. The higher we got, the more impressive Schiehallion in the distance became as did our 2nd and 3rd targets for the day. Ben Alder was a behemoth; massive; a brute; any Roget's definition you choose to make. We got to the summit at about 0730 and chilled out, looking over to Sgor Iutharn - Lancet Edge would be a destination for the future. Taste buds were truly whetted and we burned down back to the bothy to recharge food and water. At 0900, we set off for Ben Alder and the Long Leachas ridge. An excellent stalker's path took us up and over before we diverted over the burn - well Graeme went over, I went through - a faux pas of the highest order - bien fait. We began the climb up the Leachas and it was an absolute joy. We both felt strong, the exposure was stupendous and the views were fab. I really enjoyed this scramble ridge but at no point felt at risk. Once up on to the plateau, we walked along the corrie rim before setting off for the distant cairn. An off collection of 5 ringed cairns lay before us and as we took lunch in the shelter, Graeme spotted a fellow Walkhighlander, IainWatson who he had met at a WH meet. The man is a mountain goat. At this point, I boasted that as purists 'we don't do mountain bikes....bikes...bikes...bikes....' That phrase would circulate through my frazzled brain on the walk out. A steep descent off Ben Alder and up on to Beinn Bheoil with a couple of cracking rainbows and we knew we were on our way back. Still strong G? Yeah, still strong...ish. We didn't hang about much at Beinn Bheoil but marvelled in the majesty of Ben Alder across the loch. Our walk past Culra at 1540 in daylight meant at least a 2 hr 50 walk out. IW had already left us behind with his bike. I hoped he'd get a puncture. It would be fair to say that our conversation had dropped but what did come up was the lack of generosity of landowners driving past us with no thoughts of stopping for us - I mean, who are these people? Never mind, we were doing it the pure way. Pure mad mental min. The last time I checked my feet had worn down to stumps and Graeme stopped for a second - it was almost fatal as the regular gait was broken. So, were our spirits almost - oh, to be impure! Eventually, we reached the lovely, lovely level crossing at 1830 and departed after a supreme (retrospectively of course) day on the hill. Cheers Monsieur D.