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So this weekend, was apparently the one all this hillwalking had been leading up to - Compleation of the Munro's.
The tradition is to invite those you have walked the hills with - quite a number in my case, and not being one who is comfortable with the limelight, I was half dreading it, and half looking forward to seeing everyone - We don't seem to get together often enough
So Friday came, and it was nice to be off without a rush to get anywhere. It was a good job because with a light on in my car and a slow puncture on dougie's we had to go and see about getting one of them fixed before we could start out to Kintail...
We got on the road at about midday, the weather was nice as we dawled - No escaping the caravans and hire cars at this time of year no matter where you go it seems..
We set out from Balvraid, a stone each of coal and ample alcohol on our backs making the pace very stately indeed
Its a nice walk though past Dun Grugaig, which short uphill section had us sweating under the weight.
We were pleasantly surprised that there were no more real hills along the track. We stopped at the turn off to the pylon path to Kinlochourn as the stile made a good seat. TBH, it was just good to put the load down for 5 mins! Midges were bad there so not stopped long
Once out of the bonny woods, the track deteriorates quite rapidly, although by that time you are getting glimpses of the bothy, so it almost feels like you are there already. The last 100 yards however is a right squelcher. We arrived at the Bothy at 7PM, a bit later than anticipated, but still first to arrive.
We were just finishing our Dinner when Paul and Helen arrived with a mystery guest - Pat
Oh it was a nice surprise.. Not long after that my Mum and Dad arrived too, and things got rather cosy with so much chat and cheer...
Everyone was trying to be restrained with the booze consumption to save themselves for tomorrow, and we were all in our sleeping bags by midnight, the evening having passed by in a flash
I felt like I was a bit late up in the morning, we were expecting Andy and Martin to turn up to the bothy, but Paul had heard from Val that we were to meet them at the bridge at 9.30. I thought it was a bit tight for time and 9.15 came around without Martin
It was suggested that maybe he had met the rest of the group, and would be at the bridge, so we finally set off from the bothy, the clag shrouding the hills round about.
over the quagmire we went to the bottom of the path and onto the track beyond to the bridge.
When we got there we discovered we were half an hour late. We were also discovered by a large cloud of midges
Andy went down the track a way, and he saw no sign of anybody. We were half an hour late, and no-one could put up with these midges for half an hour, so maybe they had gone ahead? We waited as long as we could stand, then made our way over the bridge - looked way more rickety than it actually was
The other side was really quite boggy, and there was a wee awkward bit up to the stile, which we found was completely dry - no footprints.. Hmm it was unlikely that the others had come this way in the last wee while anyway.
By the time we were all over the stile however, we heard an almighty holler somewhere in the glen which shook the ground beneath our feet - Bod!
We moved up a bit out of the bog, and before long, Bod, then Scoob, Fi and Val emerged out of the woods
Have you seen Martin? was the first question, but alas they hadn't seen him either.. It was a horrible feeling to think he would turn up at the bothy with us already gone, but we weren't exactly rushing and Martin is fast, so I thought he would catch up nae bother..
We went over the shoulder, some drier routes near the forest edge easing the way through the bog a little to the track on the other side.
We headed up the track, but wasn't long before we were stopped - a common theme of the day
The track takes an easy incline up the glen, with only a few puddles to hamper progress., and we were soon close enough to discuss the best route - straight up the ridge looked the most fun and direct, so we crossed the burn, and through a small forestry plantation with a ruined deer fence round it.
Then it was straight uphill. It was hot work with boggy rough ground underfoot, hardly a breeze in the air and high humidity. We were soon stopped again!
We endured clouds of midges before we reached the breeze up on the first shoulder - time for another stop me thinks - then up into the clag
Mum hasn't climbed many hills these past few years, and was struggling a bit 'are you coming back this way, maybe I'll just wait' she said, but I told her we were coming back down the corrie, so she had to come
We were almost half way up by then anyway, so no point turning back now
We were stopped as often as we were going so no-one had the chance to get too far behind
At one of the stops Bod asked what the name of the ridge was, and when I said that not every ridge had a name, it was decided to christen this one Sron na Seana - Seana's Nose I think would be the translation.
Honestly, I had laughed so much already that day, I had a sore tummy
Some way up, the familiar baggers path appeared beneath our feet, and there were a couple of steep bits, but it was really quite an easy walk - I thought this was supposed to be a steep hill
The ridge turned really narrow and fine, and huge rocky buttresses on our left dropped into the claggy abyss below - had the impression that it would be a corker without the clag
Still I thought it was fitting that I would compleat on a claggy day - so many summits have been seen in weather like this
There was a bit of confusion, as there are quite a few tops up there, but we made it to the true summit, after some more stops, everyone lifting their poles up to make a tunnel up to the trig point for me
After a short photo shoot, we tucked in to the many bottles of champagne, whisky, sloe gin, and Jack Daniels which everyone had brought. The drizzle came on and we all climbed into our waterproof trousers, but not enough rain to dampen spirits. I kind of expected to feel something, but I still don't think it has sunk in that there arent any more new munro's left
After a good stop, and a lot of banter, we headed down the other ridge to the coll, looking for a way down to Corrie Min. We passed a couple who had come up from Arnisdale who looked awful miserable in the wet clag. I shouted to them that it was my last munro and found myself flailing my poles around like an idiot.. I was maybe feeling a little bit squiffy
The corrie was a fine descent route to stumble down, and we were careful to stay over to the left side which doesnt have any cliffs.
Once at the top of Corrie Dubh, almost out of the clag, Dougie and Andy descended to the glen floor, where as the rest of us traversed a gentler ascent on fine firm ground.
Dougie and Andy got to the mouth of the corrie well before us - well we did have another stop
The sun was out so we hung around a while, before heading through the plantation back to the track beyond.
I was a bit sad that the walk was was coming to an end.. I had had such a brilliant time and had so much energy left, that I wanted to do it again, but no-one else looked tempted.
We said Goodbye to Bod, Val, Scoob and Fi at the bridge, Scoob and Fi coming to the bothy a bit later on, Bod and Val heading over to Skye.
The drizzle came on again as we negotiated the bogs in the vicinity of the bothy, so we were glad to get back.
Back in the bothy, there was a hive of activity as dinner was prepared and cups of tea whisky and prosecco were consumed. It didn't look like Martin or anyone had been in
Dad lit the fire in the other room, as the stove doesn't seem to draw much, but the chimney was blocked through there, so it got rather smoky and we ended up moving the fire back through
Scoob and Fi turned up well before 9, and it was good to see them back. Andy managed to make 1/3 of a bottle of whisky disappear within half an hour before declaring he was heading back to his van at Moyle campsite
It was a little worrying when he staggered off into the darkness, but returned 20 minutes later for his walking poles, and was doing just fine
One by one, the lure of the sleeping bag temped folk away until it was Just Dougie, Pat and me putting the world to rights. It had been such a fun day, I didn't want it to end, but nodding donkey syndrome hit and that was me
I awoke in the morning, and met Helen in the hall looking as white as a sheet and ready to go home - she had been terribly ill during the night
so she headed off, shortly followed by Pat and Paul. Mum and Dad didn't seem to be hanging around either, so we packed and cleaned up after some more chatting with Scoob and Fi. They had parked at moyle, but Mum, Dad, Dougie and I walked the track out to Balvraid in sunshine - it seemingly being a lot shorter with the substantially lighter load.
I want to thank everyone who came along for their good company. I was a bit apprehensive about the whole thing, but it really was a top weekend thanks to you guys
And well done to Mum for making it