3 June
In terms of Munro count, this was a satisfying day! I'm up to 86 from 81. It was also a fairly big day, but now I have a solid fitness, that doesn't seem to matter much. Glen Ey is an area of little lumpy Munros, a bit of a contrast to the immense Cairngorms directly to the north. I'd done three of the five Munros in the past, but the other two hadn't been done and it gave me two completely fresh ones to add to my count (the first time this had happened on the Round since Ben More on Mull over a month ago).
I planned an early start but I had the inevitable lie-in and got going around 8am. Only a couple hours later than planned... A bike ride brought me up Glen Ey to Alltanour Lodge at the end of the track. From there I was on foot in an anti-clockwise direction, so Carn Bhac first. (which it turned out was #82 - 200 to go, although I only realised later)
For the first time in a while I was very edgy all day, half-expecting not to climb all the planned summits. The reason was that the weather forecast had suggested possible thunder, and the thought of thunder on the hills scares the willies out of me. So although that part of the forecast didn't transpire, it sure as hell kept me on my toes.
The hills were a great moorland romp. These hills seem to get a bit of a panning, but I really like them, especially the cluster around Loch nan Eun.
On the way to Beinn Iutharn Mhor, I nearly (accidentally) speared a ptarmigan (maybe a grouse?) with one of my trekking poles. I got a hell of a fright when it exploded into action to reveal a cluster of eggs in the heather. I hope it returned to them afterward...
Carn an Righ was #3 and thankfully a short climb from the bealach. On the way up, I met Anne and her friend (forgive me, I forgot your name) and we had a short craic, and then again on the way down.
The day followed a pattern: I'd speed up to the summit of a Munro, look around at the skies to see if there were any thunder-bearing showers coming. On each one, I'd think "phew, at least one more hill then". It was an exhausting game to play, but retrospectively it was also fun: the adrenaline gave me one hell of a boost! It was only as I made my way from #4, Glas Tulaichean, to #5, An Socach, that I thought I'd definitely make it. I get too worried about thunder for my own good....
I did An Socach fairly fast, then headed off the hill and back to the bike at Alltanour Lodge. A freewheel down the glen brought me back to the car, and I drove back to Braemar to meet Hazel McDonnell who had some food waiting for me.
All in all, it was a good day - thankfully successful and also a bit nervy for quite pathetic reasons! It clears out a big area of the Grampians and leaves me with a large swathe of summits now climbed in this region. The Glas Maol 6 tomorrow will only strengthen that. Carn an Fhidhleir and An Sgarsoch are outstanding, but everything is going well and I feel really good. Things should just keep on progressing. In a couple of weeks I'll be well on my way to finishing every Munro south of the Great Glen. What a thought!
Monday, 3 June 2013
Day 32 - Cairnwell 3
I started the day planning to go back and do the Munros I hadn't done north of the Tarf Hotel - An Sgarsoch and Carn an Fhidhleir. After Steve's birthday, I was in 'normal' mode (as opposed to 'hill mode') and the hills seemed pretty far away.
I'd got up early, but I packed reluctantly and swallowed mugs of tea to perk up. It was a slow morning. I didn't really want to do anything with my day (not in the mood) but summits were needing climbed. It was almost tempting to believe I could pass a rest day, but I wasn't fooling myself. I knew I needed to get something done to stay on schedule!
Importantly, I needed to get back out on the mountains and be back in that mindset. So I packed my gear up and got it all in the back of the car. Mum had planned to drive me to Glen Shee but in the end I decided to drive myself and save her the long journey up and back. It would also give me the benefit of the car with the drawback of longer approaches.
I only left for Glen Shee mid-afternoon, and my focused my sights on the Cairnwell trio. The Cairnwell and Carn Aosda are unquestionably the easiest Munros, since they're an easy 1000 feet (or less...) above the car park, which itself is above 2000 feet. The Cairnwell and Carn Aosda are also very affected by the Glen Shee ski centre, probably the most damaged hills by any ski development.
But their convenience suited me, and I only started up them around 6pm. The Cairnwell was first. I climbed the summit mast on my first visit years ago, but left that out this time. The weather was perfect and the most amazing change happened - the minute I set foot back on a hill I was right back 'in it', in the whole mindset of hill bagging. After so much lethargy throughout the day, I was refreshingly back in the mood.
In the distance I could see the previous months hills. Unclimbed hills surrounded me, all high plateaux and humps. If they were all done in this weather, I'd be glad - the high tablelands around Glen Shee are harder to navigate than sharp west coast ridges.
The second Munro of the Cairnwell trio is called Carn a' Gheoidh and it lies well behind the two that have been given over to ski development. It's much more in the spirit of the mountains in this region. I had a good walk out to it - I chatted on the phone to James Steele to let him know plans. I could see that the Cairngorms to the north were still thick with snow. Everything was silent in the evening sun, very settling, very calm.
On the way back from Carn a' Gheoidh, I chatted to Jac Johnson about the upcoming days plans. Carn Aosda was quickly dispatched and I was quite happy to be heading back to the car. If this day wasn't a rest day, I came very close. I was back at the car within about three hours of leaving, with three Munros done en route. What a cop out! What a satisfying cop out... :-)
The sun set over Glas Maol and Cairn of Claise, and it turned their slopes to fire. I drove to Braemar, had a quick internet update in the Fife Arms before camping out at Inverey where my next day's hills would begin.
All in all, a good and short day. I really should have done An Sgarsoch and Carn an Fhidhleir, but I'll catch up on them later. The most fascinating thing was to see myself click right back into action on The Cairnwell.
I'd got up early, but I packed reluctantly and swallowed mugs of tea to perk up. It was a slow morning. I didn't really want to do anything with my day (not in the mood) but summits were needing climbed. It was almost tempting to believe I could pass a rest day, but I wasn't fooling myself. I knew I needed to get something done to stay on schedule!
Importantly, I needed to get back out on the mountains and be back in that mindset. So I packed my gear up and got it all in the back of the car. Mum had planned to drive me to Glen Shee but in the end I decided to drive myself and save her the long journey up and back. It would also give me the benefit of the car with the drawback of longer approaches.
I only left for Glen Shee mid-afternoon, and my focused my sights on the Cairnwell trio. The Cairnwell and Carn Aosda are unquestionably the easiest Munros, since they're an easy 1000 feet (or less...) above the car park, which itself is above 2000 feet. The Cairnwell and Carn Aosda are also very affected by the Glen Shee ski centre, probably the most damaged hills by any ski development.
But their convenience suited me, and I only started up them around 6pm. The Cairnwell was first. I climbed the summit mast on my first visit years ago, but left that out this time. The weather was perfect and the most amazing change happened - the minute I set foot back on a hill I was right back 'in it', in the whole mindset of hill bagging. After so much lethargy throughout the day, I was refreshingly back in the mood.
In the distance I could see the previous months hills. Unclimbed hills surrounded me, all high plateaux and humps. If they were all done in this weather, I'd be glad - the high tablelands around Glen Shee are harder to navigate than sharp west coast ridges.
The second Munro of the Cairnwell trio is called Carn a' Gheoidh and it lies well behind the two that have been given over to ski development. It's much more in the spirit of the mountains in this region. I had a good walk out to it - I chatted on the phone to James Steele to let him know plans. I could see that the Cairngorms to the north were still thick with snow. Everything was silent in the evening sun, very settling, very calm.
On the way back from Carn a' Gheoidh, I chatted to Jac Johnson about the upcoming days plans. Carn Aosda was quickly dispatched and I was quite happy to be heading back to the car. If this day wasn't a rest day, I came very close. I was back at the car within about three hours of leaving, with three Munros done en route. What a cop out! What a satisfying cop out... :-)
The sun set over Glas Maol and Cairn of Claise, and it turned their slopes to fire. I drove to Braemar, had a quick internet update in the Fife Arms before camping out at Inverey where my next day's hills would begin.
All in all, a good and short day. I really should have done An Sgarsoch and Carn an Fhidhleir, but I'll catch up on them later. The most fascinating thing was to see myself click right back into action on The Cairnwell.
Day 30 & 31 - Beinn a' Ghlo to Beinn Dearg
I'm writing this a few days after the event - I've been a bit of out of contact recently. But I'm currently based in Braemar, working my way through the Grampians between Blair Atholl and Lochnagar.
After the insanity of the Rush gig, (some gig, whoa!), I got home late and didn't get to bed till early. The next morning, Neil arrived at 7am as planned and we left mine two hours later, which tells you everything! We headed to Blair Atholl where I had five Munros on the radar for the next two days, a plan chopped down a bit because Steve asked if I would be able to make his birthday on 1 June. Although I'd first thought it couldn't happen, altered plans made it a possibility at the expense of two Munros; An Sgarsoch and Carn an Fhidhlier. They'd have to be done later.
Neil dropped me at Loch Moraig, and I set off for Beinn a' Ghlo. I think if I'd stayed with my original plan (4 big days away from a road), I might have had a reluctance about setting off. But since it was cut down to two sets of two days, I was quite happy with the situation. Neil and I had arranged to meet at the Tarf Hotel later on - I'd get there over Beinn a' Ghlo, he'd cycle up Glen Tilt and walk in across the moors. (I should point out that the Tarf Hotel isn't actually a hotel, it's just a bothy.)
Beinn a' Ghlo gave me a brilliant crossing, even though the weather wasn't as good as it could be. I always thought it was about to rain, but I got just brief showers. Even with the extra weight of sleeping and cooking gear on my back, I made it to Munro #3, Carn nan Gabhar, in three and a half hours - a good time, all in. There were lots of people doing the round, although I left them when I headed north from Carn nan Gabhar, back down to the gentle slopes of Glen Tilt and across to the moors on the other side. The main feeling was one of being really fit.
From Glen Tilt at 300m, I headed up onto a big rounded hill called Braigh Coire na Conlaich, over 800m high. This area is all huge, rounded heathery hills with streams cutting into the peat. It is quite unique in that it's actually less effort to go over the summits rather than through the watercourses between them. The whole area has got an enormous emptiness and the Tarf Hotel sits square in the middle of it all. For some reason I really felt the isolation this time around. In more remote places, like Fisherfield say, there are towering mountains, lochs and cliffs to give character to the remote peaks. The mountains surrounding the Tarf Water have none of that, just sweeping miles of trackless empty moor, all heather and bog which makes walking those long miles even longer than they would otherwise be. It feels quite enclosed.
When I finally got to the bothy, I had a moment of panic. Neil hadn't arrived, I wondered if anything had happened and I had no signal to find out. I fully expected him to arrive before me by a good margin. But our timing was almost spot on because ten minutes after my arrival, I looked out the front door to see him coming around a bend in the river. Phew!
The bothy was a good night, we got the fire working (for a while...) and I put on a much-needed curry. It was the first bothy of the trip and first of many more.
The following day would take me over two Munros: Carn a' Chalamain and Beinn Dearg. The former was Neil's second Munro. After a reasonably early start, we wandered up the bogs on Chalmain's northern slopes to the summit. The sun was out and it was a good day to be high, which was just as well. I wouldn't enjoy these hills in the damp grey that was so common on the first days of the Munro Round. We chatted to a guy on the summit, and then Neil headed back down to Glen Tilt for his car. I headed off to Beinn Dearg, under time pressure because Steve was having a birthday party back in Glasgow at 5pm.
For the following two hours, I steamed across heather moors and bog of every variety. I was familiar with the route, having done it a couple of winters ago, and I enjoyed seeing the place in summer condition when it had been so inhospitable before.
Beinn Dearg is a big granite hump-back, and it's typical of this area: the hills all rise so gradually that it seems to take aeons to actually get anywhere. At least I was walking on stone this time as opposed to the normal heather, which is nothing but frustrating. Once on it's summit, I got a great view, took 5 minutes breather and a 360 panorama. (I beat my two-hour time limit from Chalamain to Dearg by a few minutes)
Now for the long march back to Blair Atholl...
It's long, at least without a bike. I'd been here before, again in winter and I just forgot how long it took to get Beinn Dearg to Blair Atholl. Even the bothy at the foot of the hill seemed to take time. As showers approached over the horizon, I scooted as fast as I could and put on some Iron Maiden which helped keep the feet spinning at a rate.
All in all, it wasn't too bad. Neil was waiting for me in the car back at Old Blair and I collapsed into the passenger seat very glad to stop walking at a million miles an hour. We got on the road south, and I got to Steve's birthday dinner half an hour late - not too bad, they'd just ordered drinks anyway.
When I got home afterwards, I was gently shocked to see I'd gone 26km, a good notch higher than I'd expected. That's some solid mileage for 6 or 7 hours work.
After much hilarity at Steve's party, I got to sleep. Admittedly I'm sure much of the fun probably happened after I turned in, but I was really glad to have made it. The next day, I was back up the road to continue the great bagging campaign at Glen Shee.
After the insanity of the Rush gig, (some gig, whoa!), I got home late and didn't get to bed till early. The next morning, Neil arrived at 7am as planned and we left mine two hours later, which tells you everything! We headed to Blair Atholl where I had five Munros on the radar for the next two days, a plan chopped down a bit because Steve asked if I would be able to make his birthday on 1 June. Although I'd first thought it couldn't happen, altered plans made it a possibility at the expense of two Munros; An Sgarsoch and Carn an Fhidhlier. They'd have to be done later.
Neil dropped me at Loch Moraig, and I set off for Beinn a' Ghlo. I think if I'd stayed with my original plan (4 big days away from a road), I might have had a reluctance about setting off. But since it was cut down to two sets of two days, I was quite happy with the situation. Neil and I had arranged to meet at the Tarf Hotel later on - I'd get there over Beinn a' Ghlo, he'd cycle up Glen Tilt and walk in across the moors. (I should point out that the Tarf Hotel isn't actually a hotel, it's just a bothy.)
Beinn a' Ghlo gave me a brilliant crossing, even though the weather wasn't as good as it could be. I always thought it was about to rain, but I got just brief showers. Even with the extra weight of sleeping and cooking gear on my back, I made it to Munro #3, Carn nan Gabhar, in three and a half hours - a good time, all in. There were lots of people doing the round, although I left them when I headed north from Carn nan Gabhar, back down to the gentle slopes of Glen Tilt and across to the moors on the other side. The main feeling was one of being really fit.
From Glen Tilt at 300m, I headed up onto a big rounded hill called Braigh Coire na Conlaich, over 800m high. This area is all huge, rounded heathery hills with streams cutting into the peat. It is quite unique in that it's actually less effort to go over the summits rather than through the watercourses between them. The whole area has got an enormous emptiness and the Tarf Hotel sits square in the middle of it all. For some reason I really felt the isolation this time around. In more remote places, like Fisherfield say, there are towering mountains, lochs and cliffs to give character to the remote peaks. The mountains surrounding the Tarf Water have none of that, just sweeping miles of trackless empty moor, all heather and bog which makes walking those long miles even longer than they would otherwise be. It feels quite enclosed.
When I finally got to the bothy, I had a moment of panic. Neil hadn't arrived, I wondered if anything had happened and I had no signal to find out. I fully expected him to arrive before me by a good margin. But our timing was almost spot on because ten minutes after my arrival, I looked out the front door to see him coming around a bend in the river. Phew!
The bothy was a good night, we got the fire working (for a while...) and I put on a much-needed curry. It was the first bothy of the trip and first of many more.
The following day would take me over two Munros: Carn a' Chalamain and Beinn Dearg. The former was Neil's second Munro. After a reasonably early start, we wandered up the bogs on Chalmain's northern slopes to the summit. The sun was out and it was a good day to be high, which was just as well. I wouldn't enjoy these hills in the damp grey that was so common on the first days of the Munro Round. We chatted to a guy on the summit, and then Neil headed back down to Glen Tilt for his car. I headed off to Beinn Dearg, under time pressure because Steve was having a birthday party back in Glasgow at 5pm.
For the following two hours, I steamed across heather moors and bog of every variety. I was familiar with the route, having done it a couple of winters ago, and I enjoyed seeing the place in summer condition when it had been so inhospitable before.
Beinn Dearg is a big granite hump-back, and it's typical of this area: the hills all rise so gradually that it seems to take aeons to actually get anywhere. At least I was walking on stone this time as opposed to the normal heather, which is nothing but frustrating. Once on it's summit, I got a great view, took 5 minutes breather and a 360 panorama. (I beat my two-hour time limit from Chalamain to Dearg by a few minutes)
Now for the long march back to Blair Atholl...
It's long, at least without a bike. I'd been here before, again in winter and I just forgot how long it took to get Beinn Dearg to Blair Atholl. Even the bothy at the foot of the hill seemed to take time. As showers approached over the horizon, I scooted as fast as I could and put on some Iron Maiden which helped keep the feet spinning at a rate.
All in all, it wasn't too bad. Neil was waiting for me in the car back at Old Blair and I collapsed into the passenger seat very glad to stop walking at a million miles an hour. We got on the road south, and I got to Steve's birthday dinner half an hour late - not too bad, they'd just ordered drinks anyway.
When I got home afterwards, I was gently shocked to see I'd gone 26km, a good notch higher than I'd expected. That's some solid mileage for 6 or 7 hours work.
After much hilarity at Steve's party, I got to sleep. Admittedly I'm sure much of the fun probably happened after I turned in, but I was really glad to have made it. The next day, I was back up the road to continue the great bagging campaign at Glen Shee.
Thursday, 30 May 2013
Day 29 - Rest Day, and Rush!
After the crazy last few days on the hills, I was really looking forward to this rest day. A couple of years ago, I got into Rush in a big way, and they finally came to play Glasgow in the middle of my Munro Round. I sat on it a while, and when I saw Manny Gorman had gone to see AC/DC at the end of of his Corbett Round, I didn't feel so guilty about breaking up a continuous journey! But then the logistics of getting back would all have to be arranged, and it wasn't a cheap gig, either. But when it came to the time, my plans had all been turned around by the crazy May conditions, and I worked it so that I was coming back from Arrochar instead. I'm very glad I went.
The gig was amazing, one of those ones that was worth every penny. It was a full-on experience by the end and an interesting break from climbing mountains every day. It was good to have the rest too, although I felt that one more day's rest might have topped the tank up those extra few percent to 100%. Having had a succession of big mountain days, I finally felt back on form.
But moving on: for now I'll likely fall off the radar for a few days. I'm heading into the wilderness north of Blair Atholl, first over Beinn a' Ghlo today (31st), then around the Ring of Tarf and east to Glen Shee. Although it's not the most remote area by Scottish standards, it is the one that repays staying high and linking up the tops, so I'll be staying in the Tarf Hotel (that's a bothy!) for two nights and a camp by Loch nan Eun for another. I'll be away from the road for four days, and then things will be a little less remote as I do the Angus summits. All going well I'll be in Braemar on the 7th, ready for the Cairngorms. (Hope enough snow melts!)
I should also point out that I'm slipping back into the schedule that is posted on my website: http://kevinwoods.co.uk/images/MunroScheduleSpreadsheet.jpg I now plan to keep closely to that, although depending on circumstances I might swap a couple of days. I better go now; I've got stuff to pack and I'll be on my way soon.
Cy'all later.
Day 28 - Arrochar 4
So, 28 days in and I finally finished my first big section of the walk.
I had the company of Andy Brown for the past few days, over the four Tyndrum Munros, then over the two Blackmount Munros on subsequent days. To finish off the first month of my walk, I needed to get the Arrochar Munros done, of which there are four. I'd already had two big days behind me, and the Arrochar Munros aren't a pushover: they're steep, craggy and demand a lot of effort.
The night before the Arrochar's, I'd planned on camping at Tyndrum. My usual tent space at the Dalrigh car park was waterlogged, so I drove in the direction of Loch Lomond in search of a space. Time was ticking, and I needed to get the tent up, a meal down me, and get enough sleep to see me right through the next day.
I tried the Falls of Falloch car park: no luck. And so my next call was Inveruglas itself, where my next days walk would begin. There was no room here for a campsite, either. It was all forests and water down Loch Lomond side, and almost no patches of grass suitable for camping on with a big tent. I was back to sleeping in the car, even though I'd previously promised myself that I wouldn't make that mistake again.
I was sitting on the benches at Inveruglas after 10pm in calm dusk, cooking up an enormous curry and feeling at peace. All was green and grey, the water almost completely still and the silence cutting. A midge bit me in the left knee; first of the season. I only saw one, but it broke my hope I wouldn't see a midge for the first section of the walk (just a silly game I was playing). I slept in the car and it turned out to be pretty good.
The 29th dawned bright. Outside, there was a huge blue sky and a morning sun which turned the trees bright green. Today was the big Arrochar day. An inner focus cut through the outer serenity. My only worry was (as ever) that I was getting run down, but in general I felt quite good. My body felt a bit wasted, and I guzzled back the muesli, fruit, milk and anything else I could find.
At last, I started off for Ben Vorlich. I felt pretty beat, climbing in the heat of the sun with legs that wouldn't go very fast. I was drained. I needed a rest day, and it crossed my mind I might not finish all the Munros today.
But for now I headed upwards into sunny skies, the heat was a bit much. The summit arrived in patient time, but generally I was frustrated at my poor physical form. The answer as ever was to pace myself, keep eating, and eating, and eating...
With the summit (and north top!) claimed, I was heading down the long slopes from Ben Vorlich when a fell runner passed me. I watched him cross the Loch Sloy dam and then he disappeared up the slopes of Ben Vane. Something kicked into action in my head. I thought, "stop being so melodramatic".
Ben Vorlich and Ben Vane are both above 3000 feet, but the gap between them drops to about 1000 feet. Still, I just flew up Ben Vane, over the top, and then across Beinn Ime. It was as if in that moment, the thrusters fired up and I went full steam ahead. I felt so good climbing Ben Vane and knew with some degree of certainty that the Arrochar round would go today. It was like the Orchy 5 all over again: after an initial weariness, the focus cut through and sent me off in the direction of the summits.
I often find, that in between feeling tired in the morning and tired in the evening, is a period where I feel like I'm just moving without effort. I forget I'm going so far and mountains pass beneath my feet hardly noticed. The Arrochar Alps were like this today, and I'm very grateful for that because they otherwise would have been an complete drag.
I also checked out crags en route, since the slopes of Ben Vane and Beinn Ime can be very rough. There is a lot of undeveloped climbing on the north flank of Ben Vane, with some huge boulders littering the landscape. Perhaps something for a return visit.
Beinn Narnain was left for last, and again I made it's summit in good time. I was beginning to feel tired, it would be good to get down. Narnain is a real craggy hill on it's eastern aspects. It's like an entire slope has been cleaved away and filled with enormous boulders. If you fell between some of them, you may go some distance! I found a tiny pine tree sheltering among the rocks, looking thin and scraggly. I should mention that this is at 3000 feet - I'd be hard-pressed to think of a living, growing tree as high up anywhere else in Scotland.
But Arrochar was waiting. Dad was at the bottom and had spent his day filming and doing photography. I descended back to the Arrochar car park, which was tiring and tedious. But it was good to walk in an area so familiar. I started my mountain climbing on these hills six years ago, and I haven't really been back on them since. It's also interesting to see how my attitude to these peaks have changed: once they were huge, wild and rugged peaks. Now they seem somehow diminished, maybe I've since seen wilds greater than this.
I got down to Arrochar just as a rain shower came on. Dad and I headed home after picking the other car up from Inveruglas.
Finally, after 28 days work, I've finished the 73 Munros of Mull and the Southern Highlands. In terms of time, this means I've finished a third of the entire Munro Round. I feel like I've really settled down within the last week. Perhaps it's just the euphoria of completion (of the Southern Highlands) but I've found a tranquility and I don't have the questioning nerves as I did for the first few weeks of the Round.
On 31 May, I'm off to Blair Atholl to start the next section of the walk: very different in character to what I've experienced so far. I hope the contentedness continues! Give it a couple of weeks on the eastern hills and then I'll be heading west toward Lochaber and the big ridges of the west. Finally, I feel like I'm progressing on this journey.
I had the company of Andy Brown for the past few days, over the four Tyndrum Munros, then over the two Blackmount Munros on subsequent days. To finish off the first month of my walk, I needed to get the Arrochar Munros done, of which there are four. I'd already had two big days behind me, and the Arrochar Munros aren't a pushover: they're steep, craggy and demand a lot of effort.
The night before the Arrochar's, I'd planned on camping at Tyndrum. My usual tent space at the Dalrigh car park was waterlogged, so I drove in the direction of Loch Lomond in search of a space. Time was ticking, and I needed to get the tent up, a meal down me, and get enough sleep to see me right through the next day.
I tried the Falls of Falloch car park: no luck. And so my next call was Inveruglas itself, where my next days walk would begin. There was no room here for a campsite, either. It was all forests and water down Loch Lomond side, and almost no patches of grass suitable for camping on with a big tent. I was back to sleeping in the car, even though I'd previously promised myself that I wouldn't make that mistake again.
I was sitting on the benches at Inveruglas after 10pm in calm dusk, cooking up an enormous curry and feeling at peace. All was green and grey, the water almost completely still and the silence cutting. A midge bit me in the left knee; first of the season. I only saw one, but it broke my hope I wouldn't see a midge for the first section of the walk (just a silly game I was playing). I slept in the car and it turned out to be pretty good.
The 29th dawned bright. Outside, there was a huge blue sky and a morning sun which turned the trees bright green. Today was the big Arrochar day. An inner focus cut through the outer serenity. My only worry was (as ever) that I was getting run down, but in general I felt quite good. My body felt a bit wasted, and I guzzled back the muesli, fruit, milk and anything else I could find.
At last, I started off for Ben Vorlich. I felt pretty beat, climbing in the heat of the sun with legs that wouldn't go very fast. I was drained. I needed a rest day, and it crossed my mind I might not finish all the Munros today.
But for now I headed upwards into sunny skies, the heat was a bit much. The summit arrived in patient time, but generally I was frustrated at my poor physical form. The answer as ever was to pace myself, keep eating, and eating, and eating...
With the summit (and north top!) claimed, I was heading down the long slopes from Ben Vorlich when a fell runner passed me. I watched him cross the Loch Sloy dam and then he disappeared up the slopes of Ben Vane. Something kicked into action in my head. I thought, "stop being so melodramatic".
Ben Vorlich and Ben Vane are both above 3000 feet, but the gap between them drops to about 1000 feet. Still, I just flew up Ben Vane, over the top, and then across Beinn Ime. It was as if in that moment, the thrusters fired up and I went full steam ahead. I felt so good climbing Ben Vane and knew with some degree of certainty that the Arrochar round would go today. It was like the Orchy 5 all over again: after an initial weariness, the focus cut through and sent me off in the direction of the summits.
I often find, that in between feeling tired in the morning and tired in the evening, is a period where I feel like I'm just moving without effort. I forget I'm going so far and mountains pass beneath my feet hardly noticed. The Arrochar Alps were like this today, and I'm very grateful for that because they otherwise would have been an complete drag.
I also checked out crags en route, since the slopes of Ben Vane and Beinn Ime can be very rough. There is a lot of undeveloped climbing on the north flank of Ben Vane, with some huge boulders littering the landscape. Perhaps something for a return visit.
Beinn Narnain was left for last, and again I made it's summit in good time. I was beginning to feel tired, it would be good to get down. Narnain is a real craggy hill on it's eastern aspects. It's like an entire slope has been cleaved away and filled with enormous boulders. If you fell between some of them, you may go some distance! I found a tiny pine tree sheltering among the rocks, looking thin and scraggly. I should mention that this is at 3000 feet - I'd be hard-pressed to think of a living, growing tree as high up anywhere else in Scotland.
But Arrochar was waiting. Dad was at the bottom and had spent his day filming and doing photography. I descended back to the Arrochar car park, which was tiring and tedious. But it was good to walk in an area so familiar. I started my mountain climbing on these hills six years ago, and I haven't really been back on them since. It's also interesting to see how my attitude to these peaks have changed: once they were huge, wild and rugged peaks. Now they seem somehow diminished, maybe I've since seen wilds greater than this.
I got down to Arrochar just as a rain shower came on. Dad and I headed home after picking the other car up from Inveruglas.
Finally, after 28 days work, I've finished the 73 Munros of Mull and the Southern Highlands. In terms of time, this means I've finished a third of the entire Munro Round. I feel like I've really settled down within the last week. Perhaps it's just the euphoria of completion (of the Southern Highlands) but I've found a tranquility and I don't have the questioning nerves as I did for the first few weeks of the Round.
On 31 May, I'm off to Blair Atholl to start the next section of the walk: very different in character to what I've experienced so far. I hope the contentedness continues! Give it a couple of weeks on the eastern hills and then I'll be heading west toward Lochaber and the big ridges of the west. Finally, I feel like I'm progressing on this journey.
Tuesday, 28 May 2013
Day 27 - Blackmount 4
Today, Andy and I did the Blackmount.
It was very similar to the Lui 4 the previous day, except we had good weather all day. The Blackmount are a little more committing, so I made sure to keep them for a good day.
We dropped a car off at Inveroran, and headed up to the Glen Coe ski centre. I've been these hills once before, in 2010, and did them across two days. Most people do them like this, in two groups of two, but I wanted to do the full traverse in a day. Having been on them just once, I feel like I've forgotten how it feels to be on top of them. The Blackmount Munros were a fascinating one for me, because although I've ticked them off the Munros list in the past, I've never really felt like I knew them.
Andy and I polished off Mealla' Bhuiridh (#1) in good time, 1h 20m. This hill is known mainly for it's ski centre, and was the subject of an inspiring music and photography collaboration in the past few years. Have a look and a listen: http://www.spad.org.uk/music/meall-a-bhuiridh/
Andy and I sped over to Creise (#2) and over to Clach Leathad. We were making good time, now we had to get to Stob Ghabhar. I've been to the summit of Stob Ghabhar, but it's a multi-faceted peak: it's got multiple ridges casting off in every direction, encolsing steep and empty glens. Although not especially high by Scottish standards, it is one of the more enigmatic mountains, sprawling and wild, and it would take a lot of exploration to see every aspect of this peak. I don't really feel like I 'know' this one.
There's a lot of small twists and turns on the way to the top, so I was glad that we got clear conditions all the way up. I got my summit panorama on top. Perhaps one day I'll come back and explore it more.
For now, we had one summit left; Stob a' Choire Odhair, a relatively simple peak. We descended down Stob Ghabhar, over the wee Aonach Eagach, and climbed the west ridge of Stob a' Choire Odhair by a steady plod. The summit was in mist.
I mentioned in my Ben Lui blog post that I'd spent the whole day in a comfortable state of calm. I was very glad that this mood persisted today, too. The Blackmount traverse is a meaty day, but I felt calm once more, and importantly, inspired by the place I was in. There hasn't been so much of that going on recently, but I've had a happy few days and I'm so hopeful that it continues.
Tomorrow, I head down to Arrochar to climb the four Munros there. They'll be the end of the Southern Highlands section, a chunk of the walk I'll be glad and sorry to leave in equal measure. I need to move on now, I've been in the one region for so long. But I've also enjoyed darting around isolated peaks, stopping by Tyndrum, Glen Coe and Killin.
Tomorrow, I'll put in a big effort in on the hard hills of Arrochar, and then all going well, I'll take a rest day on the 30th - just as well, as Rush are playing Glasgow in the evening!
But I must go for now. I've got a tent to set up and meal to prepare - and others would like on this single computer in the Bridge of Orchy hotel! Hopefully I'll be able to report back a success trip tomorrow.
It was very similar to the Lui 4 the previous day, except we had good weather all day. The Blackmount are a little more committing, so I made sure to keep them for a good day.
We dropped a car off at Inveroran, and headed up to the Glen Coe ski centre. I've been these hills once before, in 2010, and did them across two days. Most people do them like this, in two groups of two, but I wanted to do the full traverse in a day. Having been on them just once, I feel like I've forgotten how it feels to be on top of them. The Blackmount Munros were a fascinating one for me, because although I've ticked them off the Munros list in the past, I've never really felt like I knew them.
Andy and I polished off Mealla' Bhuiridh (#1) in good time, 1h 20m. This hill is known mainly for it's ski centre, and was the subject of an inspiring music and photography collaboration in the past few years. Have a look and a listen: http://www.spad.org.uk/music/meall-a-bhuiridh/
Andy and I sped over to Creise (#2) and over to Clach Leathad. We were making good time, now we had to get to Stob Ghabhar. I've been to the summit of Stob Ghabhar, but it's a multi-faceted peak: it's got multiple ridges casting off in every direction, encolsing steep and empty glens. Although not especially high by Scottish standards, it is one of the more enigmatic mountains, sprawling and wild, and it would take a lot of exploration to see every aspect of this peak. I don't really feel like I 'know' this one.
There's a lot of small twists and turns on the way to the top, so I was glad that we got clear conditions all the way up. I got my summit panorama on top. Perhaps one day I'll come back and explore it more.
For now, we had one summit left; Stob a' Choire Odhair, a relatively simple peak. We descended down Stob Ghabhar, over the wee Aonach Eagach, and climbed the west ridge of Stob a' Choire Odhair by a steady plod. The summit was in mist.
I mentioned in my Ben Lui blog post that I'd spent the whole day in a comfortable state of calm. I was very glad that this mood persisted today, too. The Blackmount traverse is a meaty day, but I felt calm once more, and importantly, inspired by the place I was in. There hasn't been so much of that going on recently, but I've had a happy few days and I'm so hopeful that it continues.
Tomorrow, I head down to Arrochar to climb the four Munros there. They'll be the end of the Southern Highlands section, a chunk of the walk I'll be glad and sorry to leave in equal measure. I need to move on now, I've been in the one region for so long. But I've also enjoyed darting around isolated peaks, stopping by Tyndrum, Glen Coe and Killin.
Tomorrow, I'll put in a big effort in on the hard hills of Arrochar, and then all going well, I'll take a rest day on the 30th - just as well, as Rush are playing Glasgow in the evening!
But I must go for now. I've got a tent to set up and meal to prepare - and others would like on this single computer in the Bridge of Orchy hotel! Hopefully I'll be able to report back a success trip tomorrow.
Day 26 - Ben Lui 4
Anyone in Scotland will have noticed waking up to torrential rain on the 25th May. I woke up in a tent outside Tyndrum, at Dalrigh, and it pretty much torrential there, non-stop,all night. There wasn't a whole load of hope of escaping the rain, and my day's plan was four big Munros centred around Ben Lui.
Andy Brown was joining me again, allowing us to tackle these hills with two cars. By walking linearly instead of in a loop, we could cut out a lot of distance. But for now, the rain was battering down and I just couldn't be bothered. The one thing working for us was that it appeared that the cloud would break up around about 5pm. If we wanted to take advantage of dry conditions, a late start would be needed!
Originally, we'd talked about meeting at 8:30am, but when the weather's intention became clear, this was pushed back to 1pm. I got a lie-in, listened to the rain from the dry comfort of a tent, and in the end Andy was running late, which worked out perfect for me.
After a stop by the Real Food Cafe in Tyndrum, we got started on the hill somewhere around 3pm. (!) We planned a west-east traverse, with Beinn a' Chleibh first. When you're looking out the car window at rain and mist, Chleibh couldn't seem more depresing.
Things started off shaky to start with: after about 15 hours of endless rain. the River Lochy was dark, deep and wild with running water. There's no bridge at the crossing point: I tried to cross, trousers rolled up and trekking poles at the ready for balance. But I got a couple of steps into the torrent and retreated out of pain. That water was cold!
The only other option? Cross a bridge 1km downstream, which turned into a long road walk with wet feet. All this and we weren't even on the hill yet!
But everything picked up once we got out the glen: the skies cleared while we climbed rough slopes to Beinn a' Chleibh. The mountains were rain-washed and drying in the sun. We went up Beinn a' Chleibh's west ridge and over the summit, then down to Ben Lui.
Finally, conditions had picked up. The air had an amazing clarity. Arrochar and Cowal hills were all in view, eastern peaks still sulked among the dark clouds.
A long plod took us to the summit, but the 350 vertical metres were shorter than I'd remembered. We found another misted summit, but things really were picking up.
Walking in the evening is a totally different vibe to the 9am start. The day is matured and ready to settle down. Normally, there is an urgency in movement, since sticking to the schedule is more important in coming darkness. But on this occasion, Andy and I picked off summit after summit, calm as anything.
I completed these four Munros with hardly an inkling of stress. These hills at the start of the walk would have done me in with stress and tiredness; now I was sailing over them.
Ben Oss (#3) was clear on the summit. I looked down Loch Lomond to Dumbarton Rock, which was tiny and nearly invisible, lost among the giant hills. I've spent a lot of time climbing here; I can't wait to get back to Dumbarton climbing in August.
Sunset exploded over Beinn Dubhchraig, and we picked off the final summit, achieved by a steady plod as was the normal. Hills were cast in intense colour, the sunset painted Southern Highland hills in amber. They were nearly all climbed, at last. We were at Cononish as the sunset colours died, and reached the car at Dalrigh after a mighty push back down the glen.
We drove back to Glen Lochy where we'd left the first car in the morning, and camped right there. Despite the tiredness, I put on a huge curry and turned over to sleep by midnight.
My impression of this day was of two things: of a great day stolen from bad weather, and one where my mood was primarily one of peace. Perhaps I'm beginning to feel the completers euphoria (this time of finishing the Southern Highlands), but I felt little stress or worries. More an appreciation just to be there. I knew with a good degree of certainty these hills would be climbed, so why worry? 4 Munros is a good daily haul, and I had a great time.
Andy Brown was joining me again, allowing us to tackle these hills with two cars. By walking linearly instead of in a loop, we could cut out a lot of distance. But for now, the rain was battering down and I just couldn't be bothered. The one thing working for us was that it appeared that the cloud would break up around about 5pm. If we wanted to take advantage of dry conditions, a late start would be needed!
Originally, we'd talked about meeting at 8:30am, but when the weather's intention became clear, this was pushed back to 1pm. I got a lie-in, listened to the rain from the dry comfort of a tent, and in the end Andy was running late, which worked out perfect for me.
After a stop by the Real Food Cafe in Tyndrum, we got started on the hill somewhere around 3pm. (!) We planned a west-east traverse, with Beinn a' Chleibh first. When you're looking out the car window at rain and mist, Chleibh couldn't seem more depresing.
Things started off shaky to start with: after about 15 hours of endless rain. the River Lochy was dark, deep and wild with running water. There's no bridge at the crossing point: I tried to cross, trousers rolled up and trekking poles at the ready for balance. But I got a couple of steps into the torrent and retreated out of pain. That water was cold!
The only other option? Cross a bridge 1km downstream, which turned into a long road walk with wet feet. All this and we weren't even on the hill yet!
But everything picked up once we got out the glen: the skies cleared while we climbed rough slopes to Beinn a' Chleibh. The mountains were rain-washed and drying in the sun. We went up Beinn a' Chleibh's west ridge and over the summit, then down to Ben Lui.
Finally, conditions had picked up. The air had an amazing clarity. Arrochar and Cowal hills were all in view, eastern peaks still sulked among the dark clouds.
A long plod took us to the summit, but the 350 vertical metres were shorter than I'd remembered. We found another misted summit, but things really were picking up.
Walking in the evening is a totally different vibe to the 9am start. The day is matured and ready to settle down. Normally, there is an urgency in movement, since sticking to the schedule is more important in coming darkness. But on this occasion, Andy and I picked off summit after summit, calm as anything.
I completed these four Munros with hardly an inkling of stress. These hills at the start of the walk would have done me in with stress and tiredness; now I was sailing over them.
Ben Oss (#3) was clear on the summit. I looked down Loch Lomond to Dumbarton Rock, which was tiny and nearly invisible, lost among the giant hills. I've spent a lot of time climbing here; I can't wait to get back to Dumbarton climbing in August.
Sunset exploded over Beinn Dubhchraig, and we picked off the final summit, achieved by a steady plod as was the normal. Hills were cast in intense colour, the sunset painted Southern Highland hills in amber. They were nearly all climbed, at last. We were at Cononish as the sunset colours died, and reached the car at Dalrigh after a mighty push back down the glen.
We drove back to Glen Lochy where we'd left the first car in the morning, and camped right there. Despite the tiredness, I put on a huge curry and turned over to sleep by midnight.
My impression of this day was of two things: of a great day stolen from bad weather, and one where my mood was primarily one of peace. Perhaps I'm beginning to feel the completers euphoria (this time of finishing the Southern Highlands), but I felt little stress or worries. More an appreciation just to be there. I knew with a good degree of certainty these hills would be climbed, so why worry? 4 Munros is a good daily haul, and I had a great time.
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