In the event, I woke up so early at Crianlarich that it was 6.30am when I started up from Altnafeidh. Now I know where Altnafeidh is, it's easy to find, but I was a bit befuddled that morning trying to find it on my map. Basically, the other end of the hill from Kingshouse, I decided, and hooray, there was the big layby. (I've not stopped in Glencoe much - can you tell?!

Setting off from the layby, it ain't 'alf green and boggy for something called 'Rocky Hill'.

As I walked up the steep, boggy, muddy ascent, I ran into a couple of guys coming down, with bedding and a camera tripod. They'd had a superb sunset and sunrise on the top, and early as I was, the beam on tripod-man's face did make me wish I'd been even earlier too.
At the Stob, there was a tent, its inhabitants presumably still inside.

This was where John Parminter had taken his beautiful wintery shot for the cover of his "Fifty Finest Mountains", which I'd seen the night before.

For me though, the Etive hills weren't yet in the most interesting light, so once I was high enough to see over the top of Beinn a' Chrulaiste's own lumps and bumps, I was looking north. An increasingly rewarding view of the Mamores and the Ben was unfolding with the crispness of the morning.


Underfoot, the grass and wet started to give way to more blocky rock here on 'Rocky Hill'. This ground was a joy and it's also pretty level from here to the top.

I was still really taken with the view of Ben Nevis and the nearer bulk of Binnein Mor, and was enjoying the little An Gearanach ridge in between.

At last, behind me to the west, the sun was beginning to pick out Glencoe's peaks, starting with Sgorr Dhearg of Beinn a'Bheithir.

That's a horseshoe I fancy, though I think one of the paths is closed for felling at the moment - might be open again in 2020.
Meanwhile, the cloud had lifted from the Ben until it and the Mamores were bathed in sunshine.


It was lovely, there was no one around - just me, golden plover, some goats and loads of time to take it easy.


I stayed to the right of the goats, and the trig came into view.

Up at the trig I had a good long linger. It was a little bit gusty, so there are some shaky panos, but here's a flurry of B a'C's summit views. I was enjoying my little Glencoe hideaway!









And finally, what I mostly came for - a B a'C view of the Buachaille.

Lovely.The rising sun started to show up its pinky rhyolite detail, in all its volcanic, dramatic beauty and magnificence.

together with its friends & sisters...



...until finally it was bathed in full sun.

And so, time to head back down. I opted for back the same way because I wanted the views and couldn't really be bothered with the bog above Kingshouse. The goats had taken over the flank of the hill, some munching away quite happily as I crossed their path, some running, and one big billy with just one horn rearing up to show his pals who's boss.
(This is him on the left after they'd got the message):

Down in the grass was what I think is an oak eggar moth, but I stand to be corrected/educated



Back down, the cars had started to arrive, and so had the opportunist little chaffinches.

I left them to it and, way too early to meet my friend, headed round to Castle Aaargh (very weird and touristy set up) and then an explore of the (much better!) Ballachulish slate quarry, which was established just two years after the Glencoe Massacre and where a common blue came and landed on an appropriate info board.

