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Having shown my prowess at mountaineering - not - having made it up Schiehallion, the previous autumn, I was easily talked into having another go at this climbing lark, by my good mate Big Jesper, who was keen to keep the "momentum" going. After all, one every six months is good going, is it not and he felt, I should be fit as a fiddle, with the excesses of Christmas and New Year well behind us. Little did he know.
Anyway, Charlie Boy, had Beinn Fhionnlaidh in his sights and felt weather, fitness and enthusiasm indicated a full assault by ourselves in late January. There was some snow about and as we approached Loch Creran from the south, eyes, well, my eyes, were glancing a bit more apprehensively at the snow on the road and hill sides. Anyway, Charles said, "it is never as bad as it looks," and he was right, it was worse, however I was still at that trusting stage, then!
We left from the car park at Elleric, passed through Glenure farm and some grazing deer, who barely gave the novice a glance, probably already sniggering at my many layers of clothing and rucksack packed with loads more. It wasn't too long before the first gallons of sweat were running down my spine and the legs starting to say, 'slow down a bit.' I found the going rather like climbing up a very steep (and soft) sided terracing, where the steps are about one foot high, i.e., very hard going and that was before we reached the snow!
- Charlie Boy
Anyway, soon jumpers and jackets were getting removed and left on the hill to get collected on the way down. That also gave me the chance to take a breather, a wee drink and Charles, to give a few reassuring words. We hit the snow about 1000 feet, which just did not help my morale one bit and serious doubts began to fill my head, as something like lead jelly, filled my legs. I was begining to realise, this was not another Schiehallion and I was not going to make it.
- Towards the summit
Charlie Boy persevered with the pep talks and regular stops, but despite the magestic views and dreams of making it to the top, I was beat, despite making it to a more level area, by Lochan Cairn Dearg.
- Lochan
I was only holding the Jaf back and gallantly told him to go on himself, placing myself at the mercy of the driving blizzard conditions like Capt. Scott of Antartica. Ok, just trying to add some drama!
- Don't leave me Charles!
- One of many stops
Off he went and I plodded upwards for a few more hundred feet, to the next ridge, vainly hoping to see the summit and be inspired to go that extra mile, but all I saw was another ridge.
- Towards Beinn Sguilard, I think?
That's right, you've guessed it - a ridge too far! Surprisingly the feet and rest of the body were still warm and dry, even when Jaf appeared over the horizon about half an hour later, having made it to the top.
- Spent
We took some time off for pictures and enjoy the great views, before heading down to the west, following much the same path as we had come up and even managing to find my jumper, earlier cast aside.
- On way down - jumper in hand.
- Towards Loch Creran
I have to admit, disappointed as I was, I was still thrilled to have made it a good way up and learned I was gonna have to do a bit more fitness work, if I was to tackle hills like this, from sea level.
- Loch Creran
- Northwards