Beinn Luibhean dash

Had the day off and fancied a wee dash north to tick off this hill. It would mean I had grabbed all the Arrochar alps at both Munro and Corbett height - needless to say I do love this area and it's only an hour from the door. There are some good things to life in Glasgow. I had a leisurely brekkie and was off out at 0915, with a start at 1015. It was 0C but it didn't feel it and there was sna in the air. I saw two punters heading on to Beinn an Lochain and hoped the cloud would lift for them. I decided to skirt the forestry and head initially for the bealach between my target and Beinn Ime but I headed further South and on to hill proper, once past the 'no-go' forestry area. It really made for a quick ascent but a biting wind was blowing from the West. I didn't hang about today and really pinged it up to the summit, where I took a couple of self-portraits (one with the 10 second timer, which wasn't as I planned) and one to show the hoar sticking to my beard (enough!). Beinn an Lochain looked quite bleak. Chilly. I stuck on my crampons as it would be a little slippy heading back down and was back at the car in quick time. The hardest bit was the path back to the mobile mast as the recent thaw and freeze had made the path into a dodgy escalator. No matter, it had been a good wee stretch of the legs and I was on my way home for lunch by 1300. Q a grey day weather/photo wise but good to be out all the same.

Beinn an Lochain

My original plan was to head North and grab a couple of Munros but at 0445 I was wakened by a rather worried woman - she would prefer I did something more local and as SWMBO, I accepted and went back to sleep. At 0800, I rolled out of a surprisingly snowy Glasgow and made for Beinn an Lochain. I had heard much about this hill and it always looked very dramatic from the Rest and be Thankful. In fact, I had climbed Stob Coire Creagach a few weeks back to see what it looked like from the North - very dramatic. Rather than parking right opposite the starting point, I parked about 400m further South in a layby and began the walk. It was cold but beautiful. My sense of anticipation for this trip was strong and I was really looking forward to one of THOSE days where I knew conditions were perfect. The great thing about this hill is that the views all round are fantastic, it's quite steep and offers a quick ascent. Furthermore, I love craggy peaks and this one was superb. It's all very benign up to about 600m but you can make out the summit peak at the end of the hill. Coupled with views over to the Cobbler, Beinn Ime and tranquil Loch Restil down below, could there be a better peak in Arrochar? I love the Cobbler but I love Beinn an Lochain, so which is better? Only one way....At 600m, you begin to make acquaintance with the North face and it is possible to pick out some lines, if you're into rock-climbing. As the sun blasted the Eastern slopes, the oppressively dark cliffs on the North face loomed and as I got higher, the track got narrower and more exposed. Nothing too serious but care was needed especially as much of the path was frozen in places. From below, it looks horrific but a good path wends its way higher and higher. The final push was fantastic and not that exposed but it still offered an exciting end to a great wee mountain. For such a super hill, I was slightly surprised at how small the cairn was but the views from the top were breath-taking. As I sat and drank in my water and the vistas, I felt at peace. Until this old codger scared the living shecht out of me by shouting "morning!" He had come up the other side of the face and was double ice-axed up. He must have been near 70 and rather than offer an apology to my sweary exclamation, he just laughed. Aye, I would have done the same, I thought! I proffered my good wishes and began my descent off the South summit, down through the crags. It wasn't long before I hit the road and began the trek back to the car. This fantastic mountain deserves a great day of weather and having done it in Winter, I would wholeheartedly recommend this. Brilliant.

Attack of the Blisterons on Beinn Mholach & Meall na Leitreach

A bothy meet had been planned for a wee while and Daz, Graeme and I met up at Perth to be whisked North in Daz's new Honda. Talk about spaceship interiors, it wasn't long before he had has verging on warp speed up the A9. As it happened, I had just purchased a Fukifilm camera for some 10 Megapixel shots. Anything to perhaps win a £40 voucher on walkhighlands! We left the Enterprise at Dalnaspidal galaxy and began the long walk along Loch Garry with heavy packs but light hearts. Although the cloud was not lifting, our spirits were and we were just getting into the walk when Darren announced that the Blisterons were attacking in full-force on ankles. A curious species threatened to force Daz to turn round and abandon all bothy and peak ticks. Fortunately, he managed to hobble to Duinish and once he saw the rather lovely bothy and we deposited our future carbon footprints, the non-lady was not for turning. Wounds attended to and several kilos and skin layers lighter, we made for Beinn Mholach. An initially boggy/bunny ascent became much more interesting as we hit the snow and craggy asteroid belt. Then began the walk along the plateau before we eventually made out the huge cairn that resembled a dun. Unfortunately, cloud level was down so visibility was limited to only a few glimpses of Loch Rannoch and beyond. I would imagine this would be quite a good, wee hill in visibility but any day that it doesn't rain, does for me. Before we left to return to space-docking station for the night, I did take a photo of a cracking mini-species which had colonised one of the cairn rocks. Like a fanfare of trumpets sounding out its tune. The return to the bothy was fine and once the fire was on, we sat and relished the heat of the fire, the hot chilli beef jerky and some fine ale and uisge bheath. The jokes were terrible. At 0500, we awoke and breakfasted before heading out with headtorches to seek out the Graham, Creag a Mhadaidh before finally heading back over Meall na Leitreach to the awaiting Enterprise. I thought these two hills were quite uneventful or maybe it was a lack of caffeine which was turning me into a monosyllabic zombie - not even pain au chocolate could wake me from my dwam. CaM must be one of the most unfrequented hills in Scotland but it's large cairn and view down to Loch Errochty make up for its apparent ignominy. There was some discussion about whether we were at the cairn on the latter but we did a recon mission and found no other cairn, this had to be it! A swift return down the hill and the A9 had us back to Planet Pearth in no-time. Another fine hill expo with Dazulan and Graeme the vulcan. We made it so.

Birthday on Beinn Each

Ah, 36. Can you believe it? I was planning to tick this little baby with Shaz and Daz and we all met up at the large layby beside Loch Lubnaig - Scotland's most beautiful loch, a mon avis. Daz had brought MIlo - fit a size o mutt! The path takes the right of way in to Glen Ample and it was large enough. Before long, we had reached the tree line and the views back to snow-clad Ben Ledi were heady. In fact, as we got higher on Beinn Each, we could see as far as the impressive Stob Binnein, head and shoulders covered in the dandruff but looking great. It was steep in places but the wonderful thing about this little beauty was the variability in gradient and the views. The stags were roaring and poor Milo was a little bewildered by it all. As we entered the snow-line the last 300m up to the summit took a very impregnable appearance but once on to the top, great views were had to the Wallace monument, Stuc a Chroin more immediately and the Lawers range. Apart from some miserable muppet at the top ("would you like your photo taken?" "No thanks" - well, watch you don't slip.) it was a very pleasant walk and our descent was most enjoyable. A pint of the Waylade back at the Lade Inn with Shaz rounded off a lovely start to my birthday. It doesn't get any better.

Stob Coire Creagach or Binnein an Fhidhleir

Either way, I did them both. Stunning day for visibility across to Beinn an Lochain, Beinn Ime, the Paps of Jura (get them oot) and Ben Nevis. The stags were roaring, Hamish was on good form and we were up and down in 3.5 hours. Fantastic little hill, very rarely frequented and much under-rated. A rather fine day out on the hill.

Up and o'er the back o' The Brack

I had long admired the North face of this hill while driving down the A83. So, with prospect of fine weather I motored along to Ardgartan car park and began my trek - sans beets. I had left the boots at home and all I had on me were my North Face loafers. I couldn't believe it - never done that in all my puff. I made the decision to carry on and accept that I'd most likely get wet feet and soil a good pair of comfy sheen - fortunately, I had bought the exact same pair a week before in the halfprice sale. I would just need to be weary of steep slopes. As a good part of this walk would be on land rover tracks, I thought it was a justified decision. The magnificent N face came into view about 1.5km along the land rover track and before long, I had passed the sign for The Brack and disappeared up into the narrow, steep path beside the stream. Feet wet but heart happy. Views across to the Cobbler were good and I hit the bivi boulder in good time - had a wee look around - plenty of space to park in bad weather or even overnight but a terrible amount of litter - so damned irresponsible. Cretins, the lot of them. I cracked on and of course walked into clag about 50m below the trig point. So much for views. I waited for 30mins and had some grub before heading off the back of the Brack and made for the Coilessan glen. It was quite slippery but I largely made it down upright. Once past the knoll at 586m, I crossed the burn and joined the Cowal way. I had considered also adding Cnoc Choinnich but it remained hidden in cloud. No matter, the walk back around The Brack was fab and of course, the sun was out by the time I got back to Ardgartan car park. Feet sodden but my soul had had its life energy restored once again. I'll definitely be back to The Brack.

The long road to Morrone

I had finally secured 2 consecutive days off work by putting in some overtime. As I drove to Macduff via the Braemar road, I began to relax into the drive and looked forward to heading along Glen Derry and getting a couple of Munros done. Until the ill-placed metal component on the road decided to puncture my front tyre. I limped into the Spittal of Glenshee and began the onerous task of replacing the tyre. The space-saver wheel was equipped to perhaps take the car up to speeds of 50mph and what with ailing granny looking forward to a visit from no.1 grandson, at 1200, I made the decision to head to Macduff and forego the hills until tomorrow. So, with new tyre replaced, I was driving back to Braemar and decided to grab a wee Corbett before getting home. At 1600, I parked beside the wee duck pond and a group of mallards came to see what the fuss was all about. Very talkative they were too. It didn't look much of an ascent and with my new wedding gift from my lovely, I was able to calibrate my height and move off. It is far too easy to get distracted by technology however and I had to stop looking at LCD progress and take in the views across to Lochnagar, Glen Derry (see you soon) and beyond. The path was well constructed and after I wandered by 5 cairns (purpose?), I could see the horrible summit apparatus. I was at the summit within the hour and took a seat beside the monstrosity - made for an interesting pic though. I had some fiery chilli nuts, a scoof of juice/ginger/pop (depends where you come from) and pegged it down to the car - a rather splendid wee stretch, summit keech aside.

Corserine and the Rhinns of Kells

I hummed and hawed about whether to make the drive down to Forrest Lodge, given that the forecast wasn't the best. However, Em was busy with her folks so I powered down the A77 and A713 to park up by 1045. Drizzle and low clag. Nae the best. However, by the time I had made the wander through the forest and emerged on to the open hillside, it had cleared quite a bit. The summit trig point of Corserine was situated not far from the sweeping North corrie and as the cloud lifted, I could make out the Merrick and some other cracking hills and lochs scattered to the West. The route over the Rhinns was obvious and I bounded down and up over Millfire, Milldown and Meikle Millyea. A quick descent off the latter led me back to the forest, just as the sun came out. Typical. A long track back to Professor Hans Hoiberg's road had me back at the car in 4.5 hours. The solitude in the forest was at times a little unnerving but enjoyable nonetheless.

Twa faeries and the spirit o Davie the ba' on Ben Rinnes

I wasn't sure whether to do this report but I'd like to write it in memory of Davie Leighton, my great uncle. I attended his funeral on Friday, in Keith and as I have done previously with both my grandpa and gran, I decided to head in to the hills to dedicate my peak to someone dear. As Ben Rinnes was only 12 miles from Keith, I chose this one. His funeral was sad but there were many amusing tales which made me smile - apologies for the doric. "One day, fan Davie was just a loon he wid whistle farever he went. One day, deeing his paper roond, an auld man spoke up and said "Davie, fit's that yer whistling?" Davie replied "The Northern lights of Old Aberdeen." The old man replied "Well, pit them oot!" Davie was a promising fitba player and one day a knock on the door came from none other than Alf Ramsay. However, when put to his father that he might head down for a trial with Man United, his father said "Get yersel a proper job!" What could have been. Davie the ba' was a kind man who never really grew up and he'll be sorely missed. A character like no other - "I feel a thoosand percent". As I parked up, it was a beautiful day and the path was very obvious. Before long, I had made significant progress and the views were opening up to Corriehabbie Hill and beyond. The dome of Ben Rinnes was not far away and I did feel that Davie was with me as I walked towards the summit. A lovely and uncomplicated wee hill and as I sat with my two fairy cakes for my snack, I felt at peace and felt a bit closer to the Man himself. I just hope he realises how good a player he has on his ain team now.

Broad Law

A fairly mundane hill but nice views around and the paraphernalia at the top is just so bizarre - like something out of a Spielberg film. Quite an eyesore actually.

Ruadh Stac Beag and Meall a Ghiubhais

Had arrived late at Kinlochewe - time enough to have some lunch and even a cheeky wee half of the Beinn Eighe - a beautiful beer. My plan was to leave the car park beside Loch Maree by 1400 and allow the hordes to get on and off the hill. While I would be following the magnificent mountain trails to the bealach, I knew once was up there it would be a fair old jaunt over to Ruadh Stac Beag - and so it proved. The slightly irritating thing was the number of cairns with various signs - "steep path"; "305m"; "450m". I'm sure they are meant to be helpful but I can imagine it only serves to infuriate the less fit on the hill. However, good progress was made and once on the bealach, the views across to Ruadh Stac Beag and just behind it, Beinn Eighe were outstanding. The book describes going right up to the back of RSB and I could see why - it looked impenetrable and the screes looked very tricky indeed. However, was that a faint path I could see ascending it? Why yes, ould chep, I do believe it was. I took a few moments to sit and appreciate the real wildness of this place - Ruadh Stac Beag was visually stunning and surpassed many a Munro for its appearance. The 2nd hill, Meall a Ghiubhais also looked pretty good but I'd get a real look at its character once on RSB. As I began the careful ascent on to the scree slopes, I began to make real height - however, the path seemed to meander out and rather than walk across scree slopes, I decided to head straight up towards some crags - this afforded some very airy scrambling (head for heights needed) and by going direttisima, I got on to the extremely odd, lunar summit. A fall going up these crags would probably have been very serious so in retrospect, I would encourage 'taking it from behind' - ahem. From here, the vistas toward Meall a Ghiubhais and Beinn Eighe were breath-taking. I still had a 2nd objective for the day and began to head directly South off the summit and down scree slopes - not easy - in fact, as tricky a descent as I've ever experienced. I ended up running down scree slopes until I was back at the Allt path. From here, it was simply a matter of re-tracing steps then heading for the 2nd Corbett. The evening light upon RSB was beautiful. I topped out and huddled behind the cairn wall as the evening temperatures plunged. No time to waste - I bombed down back to the Mountain trail path and enjoyed a relaxing and lonesome return back to the car, passing a fantastic gorge. Please sir, can I have some more?

Monamenach

Very unusually, I did this hill with my best man who admittedly was unfit, smoked heavily and was a little hungover. He did remarkably well considering and made it to the top in good time. Probably one of the easier Corbetts but quite steep in places. The views were good from the top though to the Caenlochan glen, Glas Maol and Mount Blair. Davy felt the need to prod at a crevasse and disappeared up to his gonads. Rather humorous. A nice wee stroll and relieved the whisky-fuelled hangover headache for me.

Shalloch on Minnoch

Forecast - superb. Hill choice - one that would afford me peace and quiet - Shalloch on Minnoch.
Would I do this one again? Not on your nelly. Why? Bog, confusion and loose woman.

The road from Straiton to the Bell Memorial car park is classified as a B road. The fact that it's classified as a road of any sort would have the Romans choking on their alli olio. Anyway, as I got ready to go, a woman in the car approached me and asked if I was going up Shalloch - I said aye. She wanted to warn me that she'd tried in October but got turned back by incredible bog and confusion. I was confused already. We discussed the route and tactics with the map - she said she'd follow me but thought she wouldn't keep up. Psychological tactics here? With my reputation? Gonnae no.

I pinged off down the road and on to the land rover track, passing an old ruined cottage with an oddly new white garage - so out of place. I was glad I'd lathered on the Factor 25 as the sun belted down and I began to relax intermittently checking behind me that thon wifie wasn't hot on my tail. I'm fine with looking after myself but truth be told, I wasn't down here to get someone to the summit. On a Corbett on a fine day too. I passed the old SOM farm and found old rifle cartridges - lots of them. Was that a banjo I could hear? I followed the burn up to the old sleeper bridge - a test of nerve to cross this and midway, a voice shouted near tipping me into the burn - the pursuer had caught up with me. I thought 'FFS!' and said hello. She must have run down the road after me. Well, it was time to turn on the after-burners and see ya!

I headed up the burn and found a wee path which meandered through the trees. The going indeed become extremely boggy. After 15-20 minutes meandering through the trees, I eventually emerged on to the hill proper and began the ascent up on to SOM. The wifie was nowhere to be seen. Am I bad for leaving her? I just wanted some peace. Having arrived at the trig point, the views across to the Merrick, Cairnsmore of Carsphairn, Ailsa Craig and Mexico were excellent. I had lunch, bounded over to the true summit and then down a bit of uppydowny to Tarfessock and Kirriereoch Hill before returning over to Tarfessock and back down towards the conifers and burn. I should say by the time I arrived at the true summit, the wifie arrived waving her arms maniacally. Indeed.

Now, the SMC Corbett book says that some 'occasional meandering in and out of conifers' is needed to return to the SOM farm. Can I just state here and now that this is a load of b*llocks. Yes, you do meander but the use of occasional in this instance is like saying that 100 lacerations across your face and body with an acid whip is occasional. I was not impressed. I did eventually re-join the route back to SOM farm and enjoyed the last part of the walk. Not before I was joined by a rather bewildered wifie who thought she'd never get off the hill. This level of consternation I had not seen since the time I was at an awards party with MC Hammer and Chico and someone asked them what the time was.

I am sure there is an easier way off this hill but my advice is go armed with a suit of armour. Who says the Corbetts are easy

White Coomb

As I set off from the excellent NTS car park on my sojourn, I recalled a joke which rhymed with White Coomb. A young lady was eating lunch alone at a restaurant and couldn’t help overhearing a discussion among four men at a neighbouring table. Said the first man, “Just spell it the simplest possible way—W-O-O-M.” “There’s a B in it, you dope,” said the second. “It’s spelled W-O-O-M-B.” “You don’t have enough letters,” objected the third. “I think it ought to be spelled W-O-O-O-M-M-B.” “Nonsense,” said the fourth. “It’s ridiculous to put in all those letters. Besides, there’s a final R. It’s W-O-M-B-R-R.” The young lady could stand it no more. Having finished her meal, she approached the other table and said, “Gentlemen, if you’ll consult the dictionary, you’ll find that the word is spelled W-O-M-B. That’s all.” And she walked away.

The men gazed after her with astonishment. “Do you suppose she’s right?” asked one. “How can she be?” said a second. “A slip of a girl like that! I’m sure that never in her whole life has she heard an elephant fart underwater.”

Back to the hill. The excellent path up to the Grey Mare's Tail elevates you in double-quick time. Apparently, there are nesting peregrines up here but I only saw a group of mountain goats and anxious sheep - me, here, with my reputation?? The great path was obliterated just past the spectacular Grey Mare's Tail by a tonne of snow. From here to do the whole round would require a good physical effort. However, I ploughed on and frustratingly could see damn all due to the cloud level sitting at about 650m. Was that White Coomb on the left? Was that Lochcraig Head ahead? I could only wade and hope it would clear. Before long however, my journey along the Tail Burn came to an abrupt and beautiful end at Loch Skeen. The babbling burn was silenced and a sound couldn't be heard save the bleating of mountain goats and a forlorn cry from a disturbed bird-of-prey. Bliss. I sat for 10 minutes and revelled in the serenity.

I felt a chill and set off again, heading for the E shoulder of LochCraig Head. As I floundered through the snow, I could see a group of mountain goats across the loch all huddled together. There was I suppose an underlying menace to the locale; if the weather changed and in the last 48 hours a huge amount of snow had fallen, it would be a rather inhospitable place to exist i.e. nae food. I began to climb steeply into the cloud and as I walked up beside the fence (which was more or less under 3-4 ft of snow), I entered a murky world of monochrome. The walk along to LochCraig Head and then down and up to Firthope was obscured by cloud and snow - it was difficult seeing what was what and eventually as I headed South towards White Coomb, it began to show itself. At last, some mountain views again. The summit was curiously bereft of snow and a small summit cairn seemed wee compared to some of the more popular hills. Yet, this was a wild place and as such, it was nice that not many had passed this way. The views opened up to Hart Fell and back across to Lochcraig Head. The descent followed a dyke and was treacherously slippy in places. However, it made for quick down-time and I was back at the burn in good time, just in time to meet the less well-equipped walkers hoping to see Loch Skeen. Jeans, trainers and the usual lack of preparedness. I bade my farewells and returned down past the Grey Mare's Tail. Another great Corbett day out.

Ben Ledi - Bochastle route

Decided to do this last minute with a couple of friends from Callander. Uncharacteristically for me (but not for them), we arrived at the car park at 1100 on a Saturday. Mobbed. Instead, we drove around to the newish car park at Bochastle, just past the Lade Inn. Only 1 car so it would be a quiet way up most of this hill. And there's a lot to be said for going up this route. You have views from almost minute 1, the new land rover track offers an easy amble up past the conifer-line (not represented on the map) or you can just walk along to the adjoining path from Leny car park. We decided to head up past newly planted conifers, which was a little awkward on the feet - what a right mess the Forestry folk leave behind - scarcely nothing of wildlife resides in such an area. A falcon let out a forlorn cry as we ascended as if to say "nothing for me to eat here". Eventually, we connected with the well-used path and began the climb over the various shoulders up Ben Ledi. Views across to a partially frozen Loch Venachar to the South, Ben More and Stuc a Chroin to the East were fantastic and as we gained height, a biting Northerly wind sought out exposed flesh. Although this is a Corbett, it's extremely popular (almost as popular as Ben Lomond, in my opinion). After one or two false summits, we came across the curious iron cross and plaque commemorating a Mountain Rescue member and soldier. Quite sad really and unusual for such things to found on hills these days - the phrase 'I love the hills' resonated with me and I am sure many others. We walked a further bit across the plateau to the trig point and took photos of summit shots and admired the views but not for long, as the wind was really brutal. A quick descent at 1630 but still we met walkers ascending, some with camping equipment. A young couple were plodding up and if she expected a night of passion in that cold, she'd have more chance of winning the lotto than finding..... . A relaxing day out on the hills and Winter is still with us in the high places....

Meall a Bhuachaille

Unusually, I find myself writing with a hangover - a 21-year old from Glengoyne did the damage - was good at the time but I'm suffering today. Apologies if this report doesn't really flow or have any jokes. I returned from the Cairngorms after a magical outing - one of those days that doesn't really require a full verbal account of what happened - hopefully the photos do it justice. I had longed to do Bynack More for yonks but knew that the snowfall was immense and I'd likely be wading for hours before giving up and returning Munro-less or worse, actually become part of hill folklore - "he just waded into the sunset and was never found again - sometimes you can hear him cracking jokes and laughing at his own tales - then you hear the wading again...he wisnae right...." Sorry, where was I? Got up to Glenmore Lodge quite late in the day - 1330. I parked just past the Lodge and as I disembarked, I was rounded up by two excitable collie dogs - Come High! The path down through and on to the Ryvoan gap is a simply magical place to be - the different fauna and flora are outstanding and I was lost in a world of idyllic surroundings. As things tend to happen, this simple walk turned awkward when I obviously began ascending up Meall a Bhuachaille too early - it was rather steep going - so steep that I had to grab heather and roots to pull myself up - I had clearly taken the wrong way up. It did however provide rapid ascent and fantastic views across the Cairngorms - and there was Bynack More popping out in the distance. The only problem I have is the ski paraphernalia which really leaves a sour taste in the mouth as these hills are beautiful to look at. By using strategically placed trees, I was able to capture the hills minus the bumpf. I plateau'd out and enjoyed the final walk up to the huge summit cairn - I donned all my gear, sat down and just revelled in the heat on my face, while being insulated against the perishing Cairngorm wind. It was a beautiful 10 minutes of afternoon peace - probably about 1645 and not another soul on the hill. Quite a moving experience and I was genuinely reluctant to get up and move on. However, I did and although I wasn't planning on the full traverse of Creagan Gorm and Craiggowrie, they did look very tantalising. No, it was getting late and I had to get down - although fun at first by virtue of skooting (ski-ing in Scarpa boots - quite fun), the snow softened up further down and I was actually wading back to the forest. The track alongside the road brought me back to my starting point. Once again, another brilliant Corbett in the bag and a superb day out.

Hart Fell

On the way back up from England, I decided to swing past a hill and not miss Moffat's offering to the Corbetts.
I had decided to do the Blackcraigs horseshoe but didn't get to the car park until 1300 - I'd need to motor it if I was to get roon aboot. The view up to Saddle Yoke was quite spectacular and I couldn't wait to get high - yeah man...groovy.
Heading back along the road for 200m, I began the walk up towards a large cleft in the hillside - a faint path skirted this and by god, it made for a lung-bursting ascent. By the top of this I was sweating buckets but the views across to Saddle Yoke were stunning. Geologically, also quite an interesting hill and almost Torridon-like. As I continued up on towards Swatte Fell, I stumbled across about 10-12 mountain goats, the first time I'd ever seen these on a hill. Curious creatures but they had a couple of kids with them so I took a wide berth. At this point, the views really open up and I was slightly surprised to find that Hart Fell was still some distance away. That old illusion of it'll just be over this brow - no, the plateau offered some nice contours around the corrie but it was still at least an hour's walk. A most enjoyable jaunt takes you down a 100m descent before a re-ascent and up on towards the trigpoint, which is cocooned by a nice cairned shelter. I stopped for lunch and took in the views across to White Coomb - leaving late in the day meant I hadn't passed a single person - however, the silence was shattered when a large group plodded their way towards the summit - obviously, reversing my route. Or was I reversing their route - philosophical conundrums entered my brain as I had time to cogitate and digest the meanderings of the mind. It was time to turn and burn. I passed them and bade 'fitlikes' before swinging around some large cornices and on and up to Saddle Yoke. As the afternoon sun dropped, so did the temperature and I had to don the fleece - ah, sheepy goodness ye cannae bleat it. The final up and down over Saddle Yoke was quite spectacular and reminded me of the double peaks of Ben More and Stob Binnein - a nice sense of exposure was had up here and by this point, you're not actually that far from the car park - I made a quick, quad-crunching return to the land rover track and timed it as a 4 hour jaunt. It could be done in a lot more relaxing time and should be but I was keen to get home and see my lovely. Once again, I am blown away by the Corbetts and what they offer - this excursion is very dramatic, scenic and offers everything to the hillwalker. Much recommended.

Ben Donich

Another addition to my mountain porn collection - the Corbetts - was given to me by my other half. A new book to read in bed and fantasise about. Fabulous. I had trawled through it in some depth, murmuring my approval while my other half told me to get out and satiate the hill-beast. I had decided on Ben Donich, only an hours drive from Glasgow and at 0645, I was on my way with the forecast of high pressure but with plenty of snow still on the hills. As I drove up Glen Croe, I had forgotten how beautiful it was. My last trip up here had been an 8-hour 'epic' trying to get a friend off Beinn Bhuidhe who had taken unwell on the way down - I thereby christened it Beinn Spewie. As I parked in the Rest and be Thankful car park, I made a stupid error and got the car stuck. Luckily for me, a truck driver had stopped to take a photograph of the fantastic vista on offer and he managed to get the car out, while I pushed - I actually thought he was going to drive the bloody car off but he was helpfully taking it back to the roadside - the cynic that I am. Appropriately I was thankful in that car park and the actual Corbett could begin. I walked along the B828 until I came across the Forestry Commission track. Even at this height, the views were stunning from the Cobbler to Ben Donich itself and Beinn Luibhean across the A83. This was going to one of those memorable days. I had recently bought 2 walking poles and I have to say, even in this short excursion I was converted. The rhythm was good and there is something quite special about walking through virgin snow with no other footprints (save the wildlife). It wasn't long before I reached the stile and the ascent began in earnest. I made good progress but I decided to sit down and relax during this walk rather than melt the snow with my after-burners. It lives longer in the memory. As I ascended, the scenes before me were breath-taking and I snapped happily on my camera - thankfully with a fully charged battery this time. I know Doogz had previously said in a post that all he could hear was the traffic on the road - I was lucky as they had closed the B828 to traffic and so the only music I heard was the crunch of snow and the beat of my blood.

I had read in the book that in deep snow, care should be taken with several rock fissures forming quite deep crevasses further on. As I approached the first crag, I was literally stopped in my tracks as the rock became split into quite large chasms full of snow - who knows how deep some of these fissures were but I certainly wasn't going 'direttisima'. I headed around the gaps as best possible but it did involve down-climbing, a little rock-climbing and a wee jump on to slippy rock to get past this - quite cerebral and I have to say an unexpected but pleasant surprise. This took me about 10 minutes to get round. Once past this, there are no difficulties and I began to relax. I had been conscious of keeping well back from the edges in case I was walking on any cornices. Without word of a lie, I was literally 0.5 km from the summit when I heard this almighty boom and rumble and I burst into a run quicker than a steroidal Ben Johnson. Anabolic Pollock? I don't know if I set an avalanche off down the N face but I didn't hing about to fun oot. It was very unnerving and I began to think it had been in my mind. I crossed the flat plateau to the OS trig point and sat and admired the view while getting stuck into my hot minestrone soup - one I had prepared earlier. Arran, the Paps of Jura and even Mull could be seen. Was that Newfoundland?!

The descent was less remarkable but still required care, reversing my route through and over the fissures. Once down and back at the car, I looked back and took in the view once more. I never saw a soul on the hill all day - wonderful. Corbetts? Yer damned tooting.

The Cobbler aka Ben Arthur

The itch had to be scratched once again and this time I had company for the trip, a Dutch guy called Mike who was over for 6 months to complete his Ph.D. Mike was keen to get some walking done and I thought I would introduce him to Ben Arthur, an unforgettable character. However, as we left the car park at Succoth, the clag was in and I couldn't even show him where we were heading. We took to the excellent path and it was a quick climb past the Narnain boulders - I regaled him with stories of folk sleeping under these giant rocks. I think he thought I was pulling his leg but I kept telling him he'd see some cracking sights today, what with the dramatic view of the Cobbler and perhaps the 'threading of the eye of the needle'.

This too was lost on Mike but I said actions would speak louder than words. We reached the bealach between our objective, Beinn Narnain and Beinn Ime. The cloud was beginging to lift and we sensed some fine views were imminent. I couldn't believe how good the path was up to the top of the Cobbler and before long, I told Mike we had reached our airy summit. Mike told me how much he loved his girlfriend and that he was happy just to take photos of me trying to attain the exposed summit. Threading the 'eye of the needle' wasn't the hard part - once through the other side, a potential drop on to some boulders of about 25 ft added some spasms to the sphincter. I gripped my way along the broadish ledge (maybe 2 ft wide) but it was a little damp and I took extra care along to the incline. Having done a fair amount of indoor climbing, it doesn't really prepare you for the feeling of cold damp rock. Philosophical questions filled my mind. Where were those jugs, who had the belay, did Mike love his girlfriend more than I did mine? I ungracefully pulled my weight up on to the summit and posed for the 'money shot'.

Once I had clambered back down, I was relieved to see Mike had been taking plenty of photos and I was relieved to be off the piece of rock, although it was rather exhilarating. A spot of lunch at the top, as the clouds parted and we enjoyed a chat about the Scots, the Dutch and a world going to pot. At least you can rely on the hills to restore faith and on the way down we must have said hello to maybe 50 or 60 people who were heading up. It was a good wee trip and one which I think Mike enjoyed although he did his best to remind me of the 3-0 victory in the football on the way back down. However, he was nae bad for a Dutch loon...