Douze Points for Steep Sandwich on Stob a Choin?

[old danensian]

I had great expectations for the day.

It was Eurovision Saturday and I thought I ought to return from the trip wanting to give my private jury’s vote a full douze points. Like James Newman, I hoped that things would just fall into place.

The vast concave bowl of Stob a Choin's north face looms above the new bridge

Stob a Choin had a single performance to give, and all the elements for a Euro-winner were there:

* Promise and anticipation: the drive past Balquhidder and along Lochs Voil and Doine was dominated by the prospect of the Corbett at the head of the glen – the only way was “up” and the pedestal of a winning pinnacle beckoned.

* An opportunity to overcome previous disappointments: I’d been thwarted twice before – once by a surprising fall of late autumn snow and once by the disappearance of the bridge over the River Larig.

Getting up close personal while also looking over to the south side of Beinn a Chroin

* A visual spectacle: the backdrop of shower-veils sweeping and flapping in the distance, across statuesque neighbours alternately illuminated by flashing bursts of sunlight or plunged into darkness by scudding clouds.

*Throbbing drum beats: well that’s what my heart and pulse sounded like as the slopes of the vast concave bowl were tackled, almost too directly.

Looking across with relief at Cruach Ardrain and Beinn Tulaichean after grasping at grass stalks to clamber up the side of the ravine

* Predictable and unpredictable changes in key: expected when the gradient finally eased and the summit cairn suddenly came into view – but not when the descent of the north east Creag nan Saighead ridge started – the guidebooks duplicitously tell of an easier angled approach.

* Catchy repetition: steep, breathe, steep, breathe up – steep toe-jarring steep, knee straining steep, lactic pumping steep down.

Ben More, Stob Binnein and the glen below Inverlochlarig from the shoulder of Stob a Choin

* An occasional cringing discomfort: no, following the line alongside the ravine leading to the Bealach Coire an Laoigh was a mistake – a tad too much adrenalin was generated as the ground steepened and the walls narrowed – the escape route to the shoulder gave welcome relief.

* Relief when it was all over: but knowing that the voting and final results still had to be endured – just like the drive home.

Looking back across to Stob a Choin from the tops around Meall Reamhar

* Anger at the reward of nul points (French pedants please desist from explaining that this is grammatically incorrect): arising from thoughtless campers on the side of Loch Voil parking in two adjacent Passing Places and causing mayhem when two cars came in the opposite direction – after some of my dodgy disgruntled reversing, they didn’t appreciate the nuanced invective of my salutation as I left.

Ben Lomond and the hills to the south from the south eastern end of Stob a Choin

Sadly, like the Europong crazy-fest itself, the last element left a sour taste and confirmed that this hadn’t been a douze points day.

Stob a Choin from the top of the Creag nan Saighead ridge - and a knee jarring descent awaits

Nevertheless, stretching the legs, clearing the cobwebs and enjoying time sent wandering around the multiple tops across Stob a Choin and Meall Reamhar was a worthwhile excursion – despite the unseasonal chill and the icing sugar coating of frost on the top of Stob Binnein. Picking out the faraway tops, I was intrigued to see Goat Fell and the Arran skyline peeping out to the right of Ben Lomond, and even the undulating tops of The Merrick and Shalloch on Minnoch as smudges on the horizon in the haze to its left.

A farewell view of Ben More, Stob Binnein and Loch Doine

In retrospect, Stob a Choin wasn’t a winner, but neither did it deserve the accolade of nul points. It’s a healthy day out, in a glorious setting and reaching its top generates a sense of satisfaction and relief in equal parts. It’s just a shame that the descent takes the edge off its charms.

And I’m sure, as none of you park in Passing Places, I have no need to apologise for any offence caused.

[Graeme D]

* Anger at the reward of nul points (French pedants please desist from explaining that this is grammatically incorrect)

OK, I shall desist if you so insist (but I'm pas du tout content about it!)