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Saturday was somewhat wet and windy to say the least. I was heading south on the A9 with my dog Canna (I was driving). When I was just north of Helmsdale at around mid-day, there was an oasis of sunshine around the town and as I didn't need to be back in Inverness until three, I realised I had just enough time to climb one of the subs from the road. I opted for Creag Thoraraidh, as I could see the clutter of masts from the road. I parked at a lay-by opposite a couple of gates that looked like they may give me good access to the hill and looking at the sky, optimistically believed the weather window would hold and I wouldn't need waterproofs. This decision was fraught with danger and soon would come back to haunt me.
I headed straight for the telephone masts that I could always see which turned out to be too far left. I would have been better following the line of telegraph posts, when I got further up the hill as this would have made it also easier to cross the stream before the last rise.
As I ventured up towards the mast, the sky suddenly darkened, the wind whistling through the mast supports started shrieking louder and the heavens opened. We were quickly soaked through even though the shower only lasted around ten minutes. By the time we reached the trig point the sun was out and the sky was blue again, just in time to take a few photos.
We headed back to the car by much the same route and were back in Inverness by ten past three. Though the route was a bit wet in places, it was a lot drier than I expected and the heather was short enough to ensure fast progress even for an old person and a dithering dog.