Carn na Caim before the storm

The forecast was awful. A profound low was sweeping in from the Atlantic but Big Al, Gav, Shaz and myself all decided to head North and take in Carn na Caim and its neighbour. On the way up, Big Al impressed us all with his new iPhone, which had everything. An iPint, iTunes and even an iRight battery. When we parked up just South of Dalwhinnie, there was no sign of the inclement weather so we all strode up the land rover track with great purpose. It wasn't long before we were high above the A9, surveying all before us. Including a rather ominous storm. Within minutes, we were heading for the col in blizzard conditions and took a compass reading for Carn na Caim. A brief lull in the storm allowed us to double-check our bearings and we strode on towards the summit. However, once again the weather deteriorated - could this be the 'Thundersnow' Gav had promised us? In truth, we found the cairn by good compass work and no little luck and Big Al uttered his words of wisdom "Let's get the fuck off this hill." Photos of the situation are attached. Just look at that face of pain on our intrepid explorers. Furthermore, contrary to reports, Carn na Caim is no boring hill. Just look at that summit ridge in the background. Our descent was relatively quick although Shaz twisted her knee and it was only due to the Hellzapoppin handiwork of Gav, that she was able to resume. We got back to the car before the 'Thunderdrizzle' started and headed home in the knowledge that Big Al's iPhone was iFukt but his sense of humour still intact. Lunch of the day competition? I didn't see what Shaz had but my own concoction of mature cheese and dijon mustard deserved no better than 2nd place. Next up for this motley crew? The Aonach Eagach!

Ben Starav

I had decided to give the work night out a miss on the Friday in the hope that I could get up early on what promised to be a fine but cold day in the glens. As I drove through Rannoch Moor, I was rewarded with an almost magical vista, with snow-clad mountains and completely frozen lochs, as dawn broke. I eventually came to rest down the far end of Glen Etive and donned hat and fleece as it was -5C at this point. The track down to Coiletir was like an ice rink and i seriously contemplated putting crampons at this stage. However, once on to the actual hill, I began the ascent, described in books as 'brutal' and '1000m straight up'. It was a good and firm path and progress was rapid. Within an hour, I was more than halfway up and looking forward to bagging Glas Bhein Mhor too. What I hadn't reckoned on was that at 700m, the 4-5 inches of snow would become 2-3 feet of snow and instead of following the footsteps, I'd be striking out and up on my own, with no tracks to follow. I can honestly say that the next 2 hours of slog were the most arduous on a hill I have so far endured. Several times I would plunge through snow up to my thigh and have to extract myself in a desperate fashion. As I began to near the summit, I was aware of the narrowing precipice, with several cornices not far away. At 1230 (4 hours after setting off!!), I topped out and took this rather knackered shot of myself. No way was I going to do GBM. I descended almost immediately as there really isn't much room at the top of Ben Starav - it is beautifully exposed and rewards great views but my body was telling me to get down as I was buggered. The descent back down was a test of concentration and I was glad when I eventually got back to the car. Brutal is the correct word for it. In summer I imagine it's much easier but when she's fully clad with snow, it becomes a real test of fitness. Two days later, I can reflect and think it was a fab day but the muscles ache big-time.

Meall Glas

And so another fine Winter's day saw Eva Van Velzen, a recent addition to HPS, and myself heading North to take in a typical Munro sojourn. We parked up on the A85 and began the walk up the boggy path to the Allt Rioban. Meall Glas looked fab although the snow had melted quite substantially since I had been up last time. However, it 'looked' cold at the top. We began the climb up the shoulder of the hill and came across two ptarmigan, which made the pants fill quickly as per. Before we headed on to the to ridge proper, we sat and enjoyed a spot of lunch. We both had variations on cheese sandwiches (typically Dutch apparently) and enjoyed the peace and the impressive Ben More, with the sun glinting off the small lochans/bogs. We then got the heavy kleider on as the wind bit, lowering the temperature substantially. It was a great wee walk along to the summit and a fellow walker was sitting, with a wee cuppa. We had a good spraff about hills, stock cars (as you do) and the far off Ben Nevis before he turned to allow us some time at the top for the glory shots. A party approached and so we began the descent though not before Eva complained of a sore knee - 'bursitis' was her medical diagnosis - 'sair' was mine. Would this curtail her Munro career, which stood at 1, I asked? Not on her Nelly. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to glissade down a patch of snow. Much fun. Dr vV wasn't convinced. The descent across the bogs was less fun. In fact, I had some terrible news about an ex-girlfriend on the hill who had died (see 1st photo). However, once past the Hielan coos, we looked back on a fine day in the hill. I hope Eva enjoyed Scotland in all its glory. I'm so proud of my wee country. Slainge mhtath.

Creag Mhor and Beinn Heasgarnich

The forecast was superb. Frosty in the glens with a high pressure and the opportunity to head North and take in some fine views. I had decided to go back to my last failure and try again. I had forgotten how bad the road down to the end of Glen Lochay was and was thankful for the 4WD. At 0900, I took off back along the track Shaz and I had been on a fortnight before. I saw people had parked halfway up (lazy bastards) and were cycling along. I got the head down and padded along to the bottom of Sron nan Eun before starting the slog up on to the ridge of Creag Mhor. I was going at a good pace and was down to t-shirt before long with the sweat pouring off me. Once on to the ridge, the objective was in sight and some convivial chat with a couple of boys from the 'bra didn't stop me. I began the final ascent, happy in the knowledge that I was finally going to nail the 100th Munro and in perfect conditions too. Not only that but I'd have the summit to myself for a while. I walked over to the summit and added a wee stone before sitting on a comfy perch and devoured my lunch (I won the competition of course). It wasn't long before it began to get cold and I looked at the descent/ascent to Beinn Heasgarnich. It would be a fair old trudge but I didn't fancy coming back to the Glen and trying it for a third time. I pinged down off the North ridge and was at the bealach before long. However, it's a full 450m back up to the top of BH and so I began the lung-bursting climb once again. Eventually, I topped out on the same part as two weeks ago but strode on towards the summit of my 2nd objective. I arrived at the cairn and again had the place to myself. There is something quite wonderful when one contemplates the vista around you during a Winter's day out on the hill. Time to contemplate and be in awe of our beautiful country. I felt recharged and began the mad skite down towards the road. It took a while to traverse across the broad shoulder and eventually I hit the road (Jack) before running back down to the car. 1500 and a good time for both hills. I drove back home and had a fine Fray Bento's dinner courtesy of my lovely as well as a quenching, compulsory beer. I had now done 101 Munro's and had only 183 to go. A superb day out but there is no doubt that going 'tout seul' has it's downsides too with no-one to slag or laugh at. Hoping for company on the next trip!

Gone with the Wind

And so it was with great anticipation that I would be doing my 100th Munro with the Shazster otherwise known as the leading lady opposite Clark Gable. We travelled the long winding road down to the end of Glen Lochay and immediately donned the waterproofs as it was both cold and wet. Deep joy. Rather than walk along the land rover track, we ascended up to the 2nd track, at 350m and walked along the 5 km route to the bottom of our 'intended' target, Beinn Heasgarnich. The going was good, the chat convivial and we couldn't believe how easy things were. We only had 600m to climb before topping out on the peak before heading along the ridge. What could go wrong? The climb was steep and the weather was clear, which afforded us fine views to another peak, Creag Mhor; another target for another day. No point in doing an 'easy' peak like that for yer 100th. At about 1300, we topped out and were welcomed by the sight of our 'intended' target cairn in the distance (photo) but at the same time, we were almost blown off our feet as the wind was incredible. I tried to go on and see how things went as Shaz hunkered down and hugged a boulder (heart of stone?) but it became quite clear that I would become airborne if I persisted. There was nothing for it, we had to concede defeat after climbing most of the way up. The last time I had encountered wind like this was after Emma and I had dined in the Delhi Dhabba. We trudged down the hill, tails firmly between legs and our lunches were eaten disconsolately, especially as Shaz won the lunch du jour competition. Some cheese and pickle concoction. Once back at the car, we consoled ourselves with the fact it was a good day but once Shaz pulled the champagne out of the bag and said "Have this for another day", I really did feel like saying "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn." However, a lovely rainbow appeared and once the post-hill beer flooded into my veins, it prompted new hope that my 100th would be attained in due course. It's not about the numbers though, it's about the experience, camarederie and I enjoyed the day anyway. Cheers Shaz.

Sgurr nan Ceannaichean

So, on we trooped. Emma's first estimate of how long it would take us to get there was about half of mine but she acceded to my voice of experience and trusted me implicitly. Fool. However, rather than the traditional walk down to bealach and back up to the 2nd objective, there was at least a doubling of this. Yes, many ups and downs were had but for any successful marriage, one must go through such adversity. By the time, we reached the summit of SnC, Emma's mood had gone from foul to black and back to foul. No matter how many jokes I told, it didn't make any difference. Emma's knee was truly gubbed. I remember feeling sorry for her on the way down to the car, which was still a good 2.5 miles away and I suggested that I would run back to the car and pick her up. She accepted. By the time I left her at the side of the road, it was of course now pissing down and my Scarpa boots were not the ideal choice of shoe for the 2 mile run. 20 minutes later, I arrived at the car and drove back to pick up a relieved and tired Emma. I had finally managed to end her Munro career, it seemed. I enjoyed the day, even if Emma didn't but the anaesthetising effect of Black Isle Red Kite made sure we had a nice end to the day, once home. N.B. The 100's up next.

Moruisg

Sgurr nan Ceannaichean is the smallest Munro of all and linked to this is Moruisg, big water so a nice wee day out was planned with my lovely new wife-to-be, Emma. I had promised her that it would be relatively straightforward and she believed me. It bodes well for the years ahead. We parked just opposite the wee cottage at Loch Sgamhain and while we advanced up the grassy slopes we noticed another car park, much nearer of course to our objective. Anyhoo, it didn't take long for Emma to start complaining about the walk-in and steepness of the hill. Food was administered and this ablated the moaning somewhat. To be fair, Emma had complained of a sore knee prior to the trip North and so the loosening off wasn't having much of an effect except one that was detrimental. No matter, we were almost at the summit of Moruisg and happened across a lovely mountain hare which sat and watched us as we took photos of it, literally 4 feet from its position. While we took photos of our summit shot, Emma was not impressed at the next hill of choice, even though it was the smallest. Emma's knee was sore, my ear was sore but we continued on and began the trek across to the smallest Munro, Sg Nan C.