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We are late. The day’s plan is a mammoth walk and we’re late. I look anxiously at my watch as the hands slide closer to 10am. We should be on the hill by now, trudging along a well-worn path. Instead, I stand at the foot of it, gazing up nervously at what is yet to be attempted. We’re late, I confirm to the walkers by my side. They nod. It’s time to get moving.
Time may be against us but the weather, at least, is not. Today Scotland has put on its brightest display of spring sunshine. The heat is heavy on my pale skin and it’s not long before sweat begins to seep onto my clothes. As I take the first of several thousand steps, I sip tentatively on my water. It must last several hours yet and the sun is only just warming up.
Seven Munros, separated by a bulky seventeen miles of walking, sit intimidatingly under this hazy sunshine. I am filled with naivety at the scale of this challenge, though, and begin the upwards climb with energy and optimism. The South Glenshiel Ridge has much in store but I don’t know that yet.
After a few hours of rhythmic walking, I sit on top of the first Munro of the day. The sky is stunningly clear and the result is a view that stretches across lochs, land and impressive mountain peaks. I take a quick video of the scene which later hits over 70,000 views on Twitter. I feel in awe of this scenery and it seems lots of other people are too.
The next few Munros pass with a steady routine. There is the powerful, determined surge upwards followed by a necessary rest stop at the top. Next comes the easy descent before the pattern starts all over again. With each Munro accomplished, energy drifts and chatter fades but weary determinism pushes us onwards.
By late afternoon, snacks have been depleted in number and the sun’s powerful force shines on newly pink faces. Tensions flare out of tiredness and a sense of bewilderment now sits around us. Will this walk ever end? Still, we walk onwards with fragile legs as two Munros still sit menacingly up ahead. There’s no other option.
Digging into unknown reserves of energy and power, we reach the final Munro of the day at 7pm. The elation felt earlier in the day, however, has long since faded. Now, this accomplishment brings only simple exhaustion. The group sits slumped against boulders and rocks, the only noise coming from the fast thump of their heartbeats.
There is a strong pull to stay upon this comfortable mountain peak. We are not prepared for an overnight adventure, though, and so have no option but to begin our descent. By now gravity pulls us downwards, our bodies having lost any remaining power through the effort to get here.
It takes nearly four hours of sliding, scrambling, and trudging downwards on tired legs before we finally reach the end of the walk. We are late. It’s nearly 11pm by the time I reach my campsite with a dazed sense of relief. By 12pm I have showered and have begun to fill myself up with an excessive amount of cheese sandwiches. By 1pm I am asleep, dreaming of the vast mountains I have been exposed to today. We are late, but we made it.
