Beinn Iaruinn

After a business trip to Inverness, I was hoping to nab Gairich on the way back down but inclement weather put paid to that. The cloud level was sitting at about 850m and so I scratched my heid, wondering what I could do. Glen Roy sprang to mind as I hadn't done anything up there and the long and winding road brought me to the bottom of Beinn Iaruinn. I remember the SMC book saying it was straight up. It was. However, the good thing was the rapid height gained and looking over to the glen, I could see the Parallel Roads stretching the length of the glen, as well as future hills. Once past the steep ascent, I made my way round the coire rim to the large cairn and sat just out of the wind. It was a nice place to have some food and relax. I reversed my route but came down the stream-bed, between the Graham, Leana Mhor. I didn't know it was a Graham, otherwise I would have tagged it on. No matter, I'll be back into the area to mop up in future years.

Beinn Damh

I'm not sure how many WalkHighland meets there have been since I attended the very first one at the Tarf hotel but this was only my 3rd time en personne. It may have been the fear of having to share my Highland Park or falling prey to the seemingly prevalent norovirus bug at these meetings but I was determined to get along and meet old and new faces. Having completed Slioch the previous day with Pete Tindall, Jupe1407, Sunny Speyside and sun (sic), we were indeed blessed. As were many others who described the conditions perhaps no more eloquently than Graeme D, when I asked how he was getting on by mobile phone. "Porn, hardcore porn." I was hoping he had left the house in Perth - thankfully he had. Anyway, what occurred to me during the evening's aperitifs and digestifs was that some fowk preferred to be called by their avatar. Take Tina Bonar for example. A fair damsel? Na na, some bloke fae the East coast with his lovely Colleen. Alan was ScotJamie and Jupe1407 was in fact John followed by his birthdate. He was either looking good for his 606 years or he had some terrible form of gigantism/progeria and was in fact 5. I've set the scene. So, having decided to do Liathach, Beinn Eighe, Beinn na-h-Eaglaise all on the Saturday, I found myself on Beinn Damh with Ewan, Sunny Speyside's loon. We decided he should be called 'Sexysue'. We said adieu to his mither as she headed for the Graham and Ewan led us up the first 550m at full whack. At 551m, Ewan's young energetic zest gave way to inexperience and the older statesman took up the reins  . We stopped at 600m, with fantastic views back over to aforementioned hills and Beinn Bhan to the West. The climb up and around the 1st peak was straightforward, with a biting wind. Once we headed over towards the coire wall, we were struck by the majestic North-west face plunging away before us. With Maol Chin Dearg behind in the distance, it was a beautiful view. We pushed on to the summit and took tea and nourishment. The view from the summit was stupendous and I think Ewan had been spoiled the day before and that day. We decided to reverse the route but go back down the other side of Toll Ban. As we approached that summit, we happened upon 3 young blokes. One of them announced that he wasn't suitably attired i.e he was wearing jimmies and joggy bottoms. Thus, Ewan and I were introduced to a man called Fanny. Unfortunately, Fanny was accompanied by Fanny Twa and Fanny Thra - hills in Winter claes are not for boys wi jimmies n joggies and one 20 litre rucksack between 3. I did not admonish as I think my expression said it all. Ewan and I pushed on and down the ridge which was good fun but did require careful footing and ice axes. As we levelled out and got back on to the track, all that remained was to look back and see where Fannyoola and troops were. They had seen sense and descended after us, especially as the snow had moved in. A celebratory half at the Torridon, a sublime burger and I was on my way home with the 230 mile journey ahead of me. A rather enjoyable two days in Torridon. I look forward to the next trip to see old and new faces, irrespective of name.

Farragon Hill & Meall Tairneachain

It had been a couple of months since I had been on the Corbetts and a meeting with a friend from Perth meant we could start 2013 in the best fashion. We sighted a point to point over these two hills, which meant dropping cars off at either end. I have never been through Dull but it is twinned with Boring in Oregon. Who knew? Our walk started West to East and a rather steep ascent up the land rover track saw us emerging from the tree-line very promptly, with a lovely view back to Schiehallion. In getting to that point, it had allowed us to catch up since April and clearly, a lot had happened to both of us. The meandering of the mind can be a tortuous journey and the hill was exactly the catharsis we both needed. Business prospects involving outdoors pursuits were mooted but only the daft/brave relinquish a decent salary and pension.

Before long, we were actually at the trig point and had a lovely view over to our second hill and North to Beinn a Ghlo. The wind was chilly and we stopped only to layer up and have a quick bite to eat. Our trip to the second Corbett saw us heading past the unsightly barytes mine and a rather comical stumble and headbutt by myself on poor Graeme's rucksack. Tairneachain is a pretty hill from this angle and the last bit of ascent saw us at the small cairn after 3.5 hours of walking. We sought shelter for lunch and Lucy the lab was salivating. A nice descent saw us back at another land rover track and the meander back to the car. A lovely wee walk which blew away the cobwebs and allowed us the chance to clear the mind once again.

Glen Orchy duo with Dewey

My good friend Caroline and I headed North with Bella, the effervescent spaniel. I had tried to bag these two last Christmas Eve but was blown off before getting half way up. A much more benign day was in store. As we headed on to the hill, we aimed for the quartzite line of rock, which can be seen from afar on the A82 above Loch Tulla. Rock!! Mountains! It seemed an age since I had been out and it was invigorating. The heart was pounding as we ascended and the view across to Beinn an Dothaidh was stunning in the Autumn glow. Finally, we began to level off and approached the cairn as the clag also approached. The detritus of a radio mast lies up there and is an eyesore. It was wheeled up but seemingly is not able to be dragged back down with gravity. The landowner should be shot with his own .22. I would gladly do it.

A careful compass reading saw us down by the bealach and our 2nd hill of the day appeared - it seemed relatively steep but offered little resistance and as we approached the cairn, the scene across the glen to the Auch 5 and co was fabulous. We took tea and had food, while Bella begged (besom Jimmie?) for food. We caught up on all that had happened to us in the previous 6 months and it easily occupied a good 5 hours. It's good to talk. And walk. Cheers Caz.

Cul Beag

I had been waiting for a hill like you to come into my life.....feeling musical tonight. A week in Achiltibuie meant brief escapades with permission to bag hills and be home within the 5 hour limit. Deal. Previous deposits made into the emotional bank account meant a withdrawal was not going to put me overdrawn. The road back from aforementioned community to the main road is a 16-mile single track road, which is hard to drive quick on - unless of course you are local, for which the laws of physics and etiquette are defied. The weather was certainly mixed - torrential downpours with sun splitting the skies - this would have to be finely timed. I left the car just West of the cottage at Linnerainneach and tramped along the road until I detected the excellent stalker's path. Rampaging across the glen, I reached the small lochan agus climbed towards the steep face of Cul Beag. It is a domineering peak from this direction and any hope of attempting Lurgainn Edge were dashed when the rain enveloped me. I made for the North bealach and bade hello to a rambling club instead. 

From the bealach, things began to get rather beautiful indeed. The views North and West to Stac Pollaidh and Suilven irrespectively were stunning. Then, the heavens opened up and the temperature dropped several degrees. I was thankful for my Winter gear! The steep path zig-zagged but gained height rapidly. Hard to believe but I was at the summit within 75 minutes, privy to a fierce wind, which announced Winter was on its way. From here, it was a tremendous vista across Inverpolly. Some of the finest views of Scotland for me. There is something quite magical about Coigach and beyond - here there be faeries and dragons and ex-girlfriends who make Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction look positively adorable. I climbed round to the South-West prow and admired the huge drop below me. I had suggested to Slawek, a WHlander, that we could do this together but I had to take the opportunity to grab this and when we eventually met up to do Canisp, several days later, he mentioned that he was disappointed on more than one occasion. However, sorry seemed to be the hardest word for me and I thoroughly enjoyed my solo rocket-man day out. While company is fine, I am beginning to realise that my time, is my time and it affords a mental re-charging of the batteries, the soul and the spirit. Basically, I am an unsociable sod. The descent back to the car was tinged with sadness that another beautiful experience in this amazing area was at an end. A fantastic sortie. Not to mention, the most divine post-hill fish supper experience in Ullapool. And a pickle - does life get any better?

Poles apart on Canisp

I was off to do Canisp with a local lad, Slawek. Originally from Poland, he had been here for 6 years and was settled into Scottish life with his girlfriend. Indeed, such was his nous for things Scottish, that he corrected me on my use of the Gaelic - hats off. We met at the car park just N of Loch Awe and began the very boggy tramp over the first km. Unfortunately, Slawek's poles were gubbed and were confined to his backpack. After that, the ground was as stony for such a prolonged time as I can ever recall being on a hill. Our quick pace and chance to catch up about all things hummocky, footbally and lifey meant that it wasn't long before we were on the shoulder of the hill and approaching the last 1km. Unfortunately, what started out as a nice enough day turned into a pea-souper and our summit view was the inside of the admittedly lovely cairn. I was convinced that we could wait and the grand view of Suilven would come into focus. While, fleeting glimpses of the North face and the lochs appeared and offered hope, we were denied for another day. All that remained was the easy trudge back to the car via a 'look' at the North-Easterly screes. This was a simple day out which offered much but a chance to return in Winter on a clear day is definitely on the cards.

Sgor Mor to it than meets the eye

It has been quite a few months. The Olympics were fantastic to watch but it's the ones in the background we need to thank who keep things going smoothly. Like me.  On-call Olympic duty has played havoc with my summer plans and I had been limited to quick sorties here and there. In fact, I hadn't had a wild camp for over a year. My initial plans to tackle the troublesome 2, Sgarsoch and Fhidleir were massively in disarray when I crawled into Braemar at 1700 with a kaput VW. Not impressed especially considering the car was only 5 months old. 2 hours later and a manny fae Huntly came to fix it - simply a loose lead, which was connected and I was good to go. At 1915, I would maybe have a couple of hours walking and from Linn of Dee, I didn't think I'd get near the two hills and have a smooth walk back out the day after. I therefore decided to take things a little easier and catch a sunrise from Sgor Mor.
Now, there have been some fantastic trip reports from this Corbett, notable Alastair S and Kinley's. Any hopes of replicating their magnificent vista were kicked into touch when the heavens opened, just as I arrived at the Linn of Dee. The laws of physics suggest that all that rain should crush midges to the ground but somehow, they appear to hover mystically in between, while voraciously descending upon me. They didn't even let me get changed properly and I must have been parked and walking within 2 minutes. I decided to plunge through deep heather and get to high ground as fast as possible and the sweat was now mixing with the incessant downpour. This wasn't the night of relaxation I had envisaged. No matter, I ploughed on and it was incredible how quickly darkness fell. I decided to set up tent about 3 km from the summit and was delighted to get out of my damp gear and settle into my sleeping bag. My wife laughed at my 'poor me' voice and said she was just having a nice, warm bath. Thanks dear.
I listened to a few tunes and the rain and amazingly slipped off to sleep until 0500. Sometimes you need to go through the s**t to find the good stuff and I was blessed with a cracking sunrise and some unexpected views over to the 'gorms. There were a couple of pools marked into boulders, which were very interesting and it is always good to have a meander over a mountain rather than place the stone on the cairn and return as one arrives. My walk back to the car was very relaxing although I was less impressed with the ever-welcoming insect party which began the exsanguination process at the car. It wasn't the camp or Munro haul I had planned but nonetheless, it was a fantastic experience being out in the hill once again.