Testing Mettle - 1st Solo Munro

[scottnairn]

Munro #2 - Ben Wyvis

This one was full of learning points aplenty!

So, following on from a bright start in the world of this "hill walking" thing, namely a first mountain trip to Suilven (Apr 2014) and a first Munro bagged, the third highest of them all, Braeriach (Aug 2014). If I was burgeoning to 'bag them all' quickly, it was not apparent in the slightest; number 2 not seeing my boots until June 2015. Here's the story of new passions and a complete lacking in style!!

Being less focused on the details way back when, I don't have any record of how long this trip took. Shortly before considering Ben Wyvis (the nearest Munro to home), I had moved into a new flat with my girlfriend at the time, had set lots of vague, broad goals for the year and had enlisted a personal trainer to teach me how to exercise. Inspired by the views that were starting to capture my imagination of 'up in them hills', I had also invested in a DSLR, a wee Canon number. Life was going swimmingly and it certainly seemed like all smelled of roses!

Lesson number 1
The weather may be good, but that doesn't mean you will be

I decided Ben Wyvis would be my next Munro and that I would go alone, due to the wonderful day off that was Monday being favourable weather and sociables-wise.
I packed the camera (to practice and to record the views), I assume the bulky tripod I used to carry everywhere too. Due to my obsession with physical training, I had taken resistance bands - because what better way to tire yourself out on a Munro than to do an upper-body workout as well! And my attire was a mix of hopeful hill walker and leftover Sunday casual. The dreaded cotton joggers...

I left the car park and made my way up through the forestry, alongside the river - Allt a' Bhealaich Mhor. The well established path and bright, overcast sky made for easy navigation - if the clag had dropped, I'd have probably given up
Soon, the trees fell away and the gauntlet lay ahead - An Cabar. I had heard stories of "gigantic boulder steps" that would leave my legs in bits, a "Staircase from Hell". Lugging around my gym gear, camera equipment and what I loosely remember as not enough food and water proved a source of frustration as it swung from shoulder to shoulder, the bag straps chafing my neck and shoulder. Not at all motivating, or practical. The staircase was not as formidable as I had anticipated, but then I have always had strong legs and like a climb... Perhaps the descent will be the great equaliser (!)

An Cabar, the way up

I don't remember Scotland ever looking so 'bright'

Lesson number 2
It takes time to develop your 'style'

The joggers, I'll admit, are unforgivable. I had invested in a pair of Karrimor walking boots to get started and a Craghoppers jacket/fleece combo but to my memory, nothing else with the hills in mind. The boots were pre-Sports Direct buyout and lasted me the first couple of years walking - when I replaced them with the current model, those lasted a couple of months before disintegrating!!
Winning the beauty pageant certainly has never been on my list of 'to-dos' but I remember being too warm, too bulky and felt like a mess, making the ascent far less enjoyable. I tried my best to appreciate the landscape, especially as I gained height but this was becoming an exercise in futility, rather than fluidity!

In tandem with my wardrobe, my photography style was still to develop (pardon the awful, obvious pun!). All my photographs seem to have been edited to dramatic, nuclear effect - I definitely found the 'vibrance' button on Adobe Lightroom and made it my new best friend. Not to detract from Ben Wyvis's charm, but there was no hint of neon green leaves or muddy purple streams - my artistic licence was revoked and not returned to me for quite some time following this trip to the Black Isle. What was truly offered was a lot of budding summer colour, amongst a land of demure browns, soft greys and the mountain ranges around were ink blue with holdings of snow.

West to windfarms

Lesson number 3
Nobody likes a 'show-off'

I reached the Top of An Cabar without much difficulty, wrestling with my bag and the urge to take pictures of just about anything. I looked across the wavy plateau ahead and knew the summit lay ahead with a gentle, strolling climb. I noted a lone figure, well on the way and set off to catch up. As suggested by WalkHighlands, there was signage describing the habitat here for the Eurasian Dotterel and the need for care to prevent erosion. Being a good boy, I stuck to the track - casting a beady eye around in case the birds were within range for a poorly composed photograph. No such luck. There was a large bank of snow persisting on the south-east of the summit - I kept a wary distance as it did not look to be held up by anything substantial. Views below the cloud were uninterrupted in mostly every direction - the best being west towards the Fannaichs and back towards the Cromarty Firth.

Atop An Cabar, looking ahead to an awkward lunch

The remnants of snow, in June

I caught up with the mystery walker - a lady - who was suitably dressed for a wild day out and was tucking in to a well earned summit lunch stop. I must have looked every bit the young pretender and it was made quickly obvious that conversation was not being served alongside lunch. A glance back towards the trig point when I pulled out the resistance bands confirmed the low regard in which the lady held my presence. Once I had done enough to aggravate my arms and shoulders on purpose, I set about the return to the car - successful, but certainly taking dents to my pride. I'm sure we all have times in our youth which we look back at and cringe; this was one such of mine!

What's worse, the 'editing' or the attire?!

The descent was full of careful treading - to not erode the dotterel tundra, to make it easier on my knees as I zig-zagged down An Cabar and OH! to. not. fall. on. and. disturb. the. ptarmigans. that. I. almost. trampled. and. desperately. want. to. take. pictures. of....
Dropping off one of the hellishly sized 'steps', I saw the ground give way in two directions, only to sprout feathers and slow gaits - the mountain chickens had appeared from nowhere and sought to ever so slowly 'evade' me. I managed to painstakingly remove my camera and get photographs without them bursting into chaotic life and fleeing. They were perhaps mesmerised by my joggers?

Beautiful mountain chickens

A caterpillar shared the path with me further down near the plantation, again posing for the newbie.

Metamorphosis needed...

I felt like despite being a "simple" day out, Ben Wyvis had taught me a lot about myself and represented my relative infancy on my mountain and photographic journeys. Lots to climb, lots of growing to do and lots to learn.

Definitely 'toned it down' since those days!

[Verylatestarter]

Really enjoyed your report, probably the best picture of a caterpillar on the whole website.
My lessons learned were more in the line of: don't go up mountains in a gale.
John

[scottnairn]

Really enjoyed your report, probably the best picture of a caterpillar on the whole website.
My lessons learned were more in the line of: don't go up mountains in a gale.
John

Thank you John! I've certainly had plenty mishaps but nothing serious enough that I don't look back and laugh at it now at least when the wind is blowing a hoolie, it drowns out the internal monologue of "grumble grumble why on earth am I up here in this mad weather"