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The forecast was less than fantastic, but Davie and Rachel were keen, so at 6.30am I hopped in the car, picked up Davie and zoomed off up the A9. As I was dogsitting for the weekend, I brought my charge along with me. My previous attempts at bringing Rocco hillwalking with me have not gone particularly well, one walk over Rannoch towards Creise (4 years ago), he mistook a bog for solid ground, fell neck deep in and since then has refused to walk through any water of any kind. This route was picked partly due to the bridges marked over both burns which needed to be crossed.
Rachel and her dog Dougal met us at the car park. We opted to get the road section of the walk out of the way first, nobody likes long road sections at the end of a tiring day, and after a quick stop to watch a glider taking off at the airfield, the road soon became forestry track and we began to climb very gradually. The track itself was super slippy, moss growing everywhere had almost the same effect as ice and we all had a few wobbles. A well built path took over from the end of the track, climbing a bit more steeply up through the forestry. Reaching the first burn, I attempted to get Rocco to drink something, but he refused to go anywhere near the water, obviously still scarred from his bog experience 4 years ago. As we ascended the hillside, the Scots Pine began to thin out, and huge numbers of Blaeberries sprouting up at the sides of the path slowed our progress, both Rachel and I unable to pass such heavily laden bushes without stopping for a snack. A family of crested tits made an appearance (a first for all of us) and finally we were out of the woods and onto the hillside. The path continued zigzagging up onto the shoulder, petering out as we headed up towards the Argyll Stone, some small naturally regenerating pine scattered over the otherwise empty hillside.
After a brief pause at the Argyll stone (mainly to shelter from what was now a very strong wind, but also to watch two Golden Eagles soar overhead) we continued along the ridge. The wind picked up further and shortly visibility ceased and the rain began. We were all expecting some foul weather having looked at the forecast, but ever hopeful of a view at the top we continued trudging upwards. And what a view it was. As we reached Sgoran Dubh Beag, the clouds rolled off, and even Braeriach was completely clear across the other side of Loch Eanaich.
The rest of the ridge remained completely clear as we headed north and it was only once we reached Carn Ban Mor that the clag redescended. This of course was the one and only point that we weren't following a path and so maps and compasses were dug out, swiftly followed by some shockingly bad navigating from me. Thankfully Davie was on hand to correct my mistake (I'd like to think I would have spotted it myself) and we descended safely onto Carn Ban Beag. Soon enough we were among huge numbers of Blaeberries again, and before long Davie was about half a mile ahead of Rachel and I, our progress impeded by our efforts to pick and eat as many as possible. We caught him up as we reached the path leading down into the forestry, once more amidst the Scots Pine, winding gradually down back to the car, fingers and tongues now completely purple. A great day on a great hill.
