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Three of us had dithered for a couple of days about a venue for Sunday's outing. Some destinations were ruled out on account of travelling time v likely hill time. Others were vetoed on account that at least one of us had been on certain suggested hills fairly recently.
Eventually our nominated leader for the day hit on a novel idea recalling time previously spent exploring in Glen Ceitlin and suggested we should eschew well known ''trade routes'' for something ''a bit unusual''.
So it was that, eventually, we booted up in a hyper busy Glen Etive way later than intended and made for Coire Ghlas and a spot of gorge walking/scrambling.
I can't imagine many readers on this forum have wound their way up Stob Coir an Albannaich by following this apparently un-named gully/gorge.
It's to the left of the Glen Ceitlin slabs (see Glencoe Rock Climbs guidebook) and makes height at a gentle angle (mostly) with a few steeper moves over and around some mighty chockstones and passes under a rock pinnacle high up on the left - Patey's Old Man, see SMC district guide for a little more info.
After a kilometre or so the gorge opens up below the impressive granite crag of Creag Chaorach.
Still less than halfway up the hill after three hours in the sun, the going got tough - steep, tussocky, bouldery and damned hard work in the humid conditions.
We turned our backs on Creagh Chaorach and aimed for a stony gully high above us which, by the look of things, had contained a deal of snow until very recently.
Eventually after a deal of huffing and puffing the coire edge was gained and gentle ground led round to the impressively sited summit. By this time the heat of the day had turned everything into a muted soft focus but it was pretty marvellous to sit by the wee shelter and have a late lunch - or rather an early tea!
Of course what goes up must come down - and we descended steeply, me with calves groaning and toes burning towards the Allt Mheuran with mighty Ben Starav a gigantic black pyramid directly ahead.
The descent seemed to go on for ever but with aching legs we reached level ground and made it back to the car tired but buoyed up by an excellent ''off piste' adventure.
The day had something of a pioneering feel to it and in true Victorian guidebook style I concluded it was what Sir Hugh and his early Scottish Mountaineering Club peers might have called ''an esoteric gem'' under which in normal Scottish conditions ''progress would be hampered by considerable volumes of aqueous matter''.