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Sitting on the sofa watching the Olympics with a big milestone birthday rapidly approaching I had the uneasy realisation that if I didn't start pushing myself a little bit harder I may find that I've left it too late. I've been painfully aware that my munro outings so far have tended to top out at about 15km in distance and 800m in ascent. I'd been vaguely promising to take on a stiffer challenge but it began to feel like now or never.
A date with Beinn A'Ghlo had seemed inevitable since I'd gazed at it from Ben Vrackie but the stats had put me off until now. Scared me in fact. It had always seemed a bit too much. Which now made it the perfect venue to try and prove something to myself - that I may be getting older but there's life in the old dog yet. Time to go higher, further and faster than before!
So, a few days before the big birthday, I rolled into the Loch Moraig car park early and set out toward Mount Doom - sorry - Carn Liath. The approach gave plenty of time to take in the famously visible path rising apparently vertically up the steep slopes. Eek! Crossing the boggy area on the stepping stones I calmed a little. It didn't look so daunting close up. I hit the ascent muttering my mantra - slow and steady. One step at a time.
- Mount Doom.
To my relief this task was made easier by the truly excellent path. All I had to do was keep plodding upwards, pausing occasionally to take the compulsory photographs of the ever-receding car park.
- Compulsory car park photo.
To my surprise - and thanks to that path - it wasn't long before I lifted my eyes to see the first cairn and soon after the trig point and then the actual summit beyond. One down. Two to go.
- Carn Liath - cairntastic.
My relief turned to elation when I looked north and got a first look at the glorious curvy, grassy ridge ahead. What a reward for the effort so far.
- The brilliant ridge - with the other two beyond.
I had a feeling this section might be the highlight of the day so made a conscious decision to take my time and enjoy it - not that I could ever be accused of 'rushing' anywhere on the hills! It didn't disappoint and made for a fabulous airy walk. When Ben Vrackie peeped into view I remembered looking over from there and admiring this range - now here I was.
- South from the ridge toward Ben Vrackie.
The glow of smug self-satisfaction popped like a cheap light bulb however when my attention turned to the task ahead - Braigh Coire Chruinn-bhalgain. I'm guessing the name is gaelic for Bigger In Real Life Than It Looks In Photographs. It drew a muttered expletive from me. And then another when I remembered that I'd have to shed some of that hard won altitude descending to the bealach before even beginning to tackle the climb. The phrase 'down and up' does not adequately capture that particular pain.
- Braigh Coire Chruinn-bhalgain. Doooooooown and uuuuuuuuup.
Again, the path was good but I made slow going of it and struggled to settle into a comfortable rhythm and pace. I tried to resist the temptation to push hard for a bit only to have to grind to a halt to recover from the effort but there was a lot of stop/start until the route eased in the final approach to the summit.
- Looking back while huffing and puffing up the shoulder of BCC.
I was very glad to eventually reach the modest cairn and had been planning to stop for tea and a sandwich but the great views were accompanied by a stiff, chilly breeze and I decided to press on downwards to the shelter of the next bealach.
- Monkey on BCC. Carn nan Gabhar looming behind.
The grassy descent was refreshingly easy and gave a good chance to take stock of the notorious walk out route. I'd toyed with the thought of coming down via Airgiod Bheinn but looking at its steep, rocky slopes I thought it might be a stiff test for tired legs. That left the safer bet of following the Allt Bealach an Fhiodha down toward Beinn Bheag. 'Boggy in places', sure, but it was all downhill so couldn't be that bad. Could it?
- Surveying the walk out route. Honestly. How bad could it be?
The descent from BCC was only complicated by losing the path as it turns east to head down into the bealach - something easily done, apparently. I carried on north as far as the 993m point before realising my mistake but it was a relatively simple correction to take an angled descent route to rejoin the well worn path.
- Bealach an Fhiodha and the benign Carn nan Gabhar.
Coming down into the bealach provided some welcome shelter and I was glad to see that Carn nan Gabhar looked positively friendly compared to the first two. I settled on a handy rock and broke out the flask and sandwiches. This break saw the few pairs and individuals doing the same round who'd been steadily gaining on me finally pass - each stopping for a chat to compare notes and trade general banter. This camaraderie was much appreciated and really added to the experience on the third munro.
- North from the bealach to the distant Cairngorms.
Knowing I'd be coming back this way, I was able to stash my backpack behind a rock and head up Carn nan Gabhar feeling relatively light on my feet for once. This proved to be unexpectedly helpful in negotiating the boulder fields around the three giant cairns on the elongated summit ridge. The actual summit is - of course - the furthest one and after much clambering it was nice to be congratulated on arrival by some of the same folk I'd chatted to earlier.
- Monkey makes it three.
The summit ridge was glorious in the sunshine with views in every direction. I wandered to the NE end and then doubled back and climbed to the trig point in the centre. It would've been easy to spend hours up there but the sense of distance, height and isolation was also a sharp reminder of how long a trek was still to come.
- Looking SW along the summit ridge from the trig point to Airgiod Bheinn and the first two munros.
I retraced my steps to the bealach and safely reclaimed my backpack. With it back on I suddenly felt heavy again - and tired. I set off down the path which started out steep but firm before levelling slightly and becoming a series of increasingly wide, increasingly wet and increasingly frequent peat bogs. It got so bad that it was almost comical. A practical joke played on weary hikers.
Remembering advice, I found a spot to cut across the burn to a slightly better path on the other side.This lasted for a while before it crossed back over the burn to rejoin the original path/quagmire! Eventually, the start of the 'good path' was tantalisingly visible ahead but seemed to stay just out of reach. After an age, and a couple more slightly hairy crossings of the burn which was now deeper, wider and faster, the good path was finally reached. Halleluja!
- Looking back. Finally out of the mire.
The final sting was that from here there was still a 7km walk out to go. I stuffed a few sweets in my mouth, thought of the finish in the men's Olympic triathlon and tried to channel my inner Alex Yee. Just keep going. One step at a time. And by the time I got back to the car I'd have gone higher and further than before. (Who cares about faster anyway?)
Happy Birthday to me!
- Looking forward.