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We are sitting in the Old Inn, Carbost. It is Saturday night, the Inn is packed with the usual mixture of tourists, walkers and locals all in for a good night with the local folk band. We have secured one of the few remaining seats in a corner grateful to rest our legs after an afternoon scramble up Marsco, a fine hill. Looking out the window onto Loch Harport a dingy is approaching the shore; three people get out and pull the dingy up the foreshore. A novel way to arrive for a night out, we think.
Five minutes later the three have joined us at our table. We find out that they are all Australian and have just berthed in the loch for the night having sailed across from Benbecula. Our first thoughts are that they are on a journey round the world, however we soon find out that they chartered the boat at Malliag and are on a weeklong sailing trip. They have heard about the mountains in Skye and ask if we are here to climb them, yes we say, we are hoping to do the In Pin tomorrow. They sense our nervous anticipation and are intrigued so we take them through the bar and show them the picture up on the wall. “Wow, can we come with you?” we are asked. We look them up and down, and then explain that we have arranged a guide and that we are unsure if he can take any more. Undeterred they explain that father has climbed extensively in New Zealand and son has amongst other things sailed singlehanded across the Atlantic, soon we are the ones that are starting to think that are we up for them.
Anyway after a couple of rounds of drinks we get a text back from our guide confirming to bring them along in the morning. Someone suggests that we should celebrate our newfound friend by sampling the local Talisker malt (wrong move). Several more drinks later we agree to meet at 8 in the morning before departing to our bunks and them to their yacht via their dingy thinking this would be the last we would see of them.
Wrong, in the morning we are sitting nursing our heavy heads when we notice life on the boat and soon the dingy heading in our direction. One has decided not to join us but father and son are raring to go so off we head down to Glenbrittle to meet our guide. Weather is looking good with a few clouds stubbornly hanging over the summits of the Cuillin.
We meet Jonah; he gives us all the once over, asks our newfound Australian friends about their experience and seems satisfied. He then explains his plan for the day and soon we are off! We are all grateful to get moving, as the midges are the worst we have ever experienced.
DSC02247 by
Munro Bagger, on Flickr
We push on, despite the hangover building, until we leave the grassy lower slopes and it is safe to stop for a brew. Experiences and stories are shared and it is clear that our antipodean friends are far travelled and experienced.
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Munro Bagger, on Flickr
In no time at all we reach the top of the ridge and the Inn Pin appears above the outline of the ridge. We stop to take in what lies before us. A few climbers are outlined against the skyline, and when we get right up to the base, we see that there is already a bit of a queue, we soon discover that most of those ahead of us have bivvied out overnight on the ridge.
IMG_1598 by
Munro Bagger, on Flickr
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Munro Bagger, on Flickr
However by the time we get our climbing gear on and a bit of a brief from Jonah, the first three are down at the foot of the Pin waiting to go. Jonah looses patience with two who are climbing using climbing gear and he asks if we can go past. Before we know he is off and in no time he gets past the lead climber and is secured in at the belay point.
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Munro Bagger, on Flickr
Then we are off, three of us roped together about 3m apart. I remember what he has told me; focus on the square meter of rock in front of you. There was one tricky move, but soon we are all secured onto the belay point and he sorts the rope out and is off again. We lose sight of him as he races off up the face, a minute later we get the shout and we are off again. Waiting on my turn to go I get a bit brave and whip the camera out and take a few pictures. The last remaining clouds have lifted and the Cuillins reach out in all directions, jagged ridges apparently going on forever.
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Munro Bagger, on Flickr
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Munro Bagger, on Flickr
The next section gets a bit easier and I feel I can almost manage without my hands, however I keep a good hold until I am on the flat section at the top.
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Munro Bagger, on Flickr
We congratulate each other and take in some more of what we have just done. Jonah rigs the abseil and in no time I am walking backwards off a cliff, safe in the knowledge that I have just watched the others do it first.
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Munro Bagger, on Flickr
Re assembled at the bottom we take in a few more shots and grab our lunch whilst Jonah takes our Australian friends back up the same route. I take the opportunity to take some more photo’s, particularly of them on the ascent and abseiling down.
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Munro Bagger, on Flickr
Re-assembled, my son Euan finds his hipflask and we all toast our success.
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Munro Bagger, on Flickr
We descend by the same route and we can see the bad weather building that is forecast for the evening over towards Muck and Eigg.
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Munro Bagger, on Flickr
Jonah, our excellent guide.
Our Australian sailors are concerned about their boat in the loch given the forecast wind direction so after a discussion with Jonah, they decide that they will sail in down the loch into a sheltered harbor near the mouth of the loch (and close to Jonah’s hotel as we later find out).
After a celebratory drink back at our digs, the sailors, not satisfied that they have just climbed the Inn Pin are off to give Euan a sailing experience down Loch Harport.
IMG_1680 by
Munro Bagger, on Flickr
IMG_1683 by
Munro Bagger, on Flickr
We pick them up two hours later and retire to Jonah’s for some excellent food, a few drinks and stories about our last 24 hours!