Second mistake was over-estimating the Hubs's capacity to shake off a virus. Still not well at all as it transpired....but there's not a lot you can do about it high on the shoulder of a monstrous Munro approx 10miles from the nearest habitation (not counting ptarmigan houses). Thoughts of how I could effectively drag him down the mighty Munro should he collapse formed a large part of my thoughts as we climbed the zig-zag path on the steepest part of the ascent.
Anyway, back to the beginning and after parking at Keiloch (a reasonable £2.50 for the day) we set out on our mountain bikes smugly overtaking the handful of walkers out in the sweltering temps.
- At Altdourie near the start with the Hubs feeling well. So he told me
- Smiling in the baking sun at Altdourie
Granted we walked more than biked (it was hot, we're out of practice re:biking and only pedalled when we thought anyone was looking).
We managed a pitiful 4mph average speed. Apologies to the real bikers out there. Shameful, just shameful. Maybe we should just attach some plastic streamers to our handlebars (think 4 year old girls with stabilisers) and be done with it.
- Gleann an-Slugain (far too hot to pronounce it properly)
- Too warm for biking, as we soon discovered
We bike-walked to the Fairy Glen which was incredibly pretty and noting that the path got steeper and rockier, we opted to leave the bikes chained up under a birch tree.
- Fairy Glen. Oh why oh why did we leave the bikes here?
That was mistake No 3.
Passing the ruined lodge and braving the burning (thank Heaven's for P20) sun, we made it to the head of the glen to look out onto the upper reaches of Glen Quoich.
- Slugain Lodge (looked like a Greek ruin in the boiling sun).
After rounding the first corner the mahoosive glacial valley opened up before us and to the right and as far as the eye can see....the most beautiful path for mountain bikes.
- Glen Quoich. That path stretched on for ever. What we could use right now is a...........bike
- Hmmm shall I go back and get the bikes????
Thinking miserably of our lovely bikes chained up in the Fairy Glen we did what walkers do best and just put one foot in front of the other and tried to erase the annoying thought of how much easier it would've been on our bikes.
- Mighty Beinn a Bhuird from Glen Quoich. PLENTY of opportunity to stare at it.
The path was tough namely because of the great distance and the relentless heat. The rapid snow melt off the side of the surrounding hills ensured that the numerous burns were full of deliciously cool, fresh, fast flowing water.
Crossing the Glas Allt Mor provided me with the excuse to throw my hot boots and socks off and wade across. Hubs opted to do the rock jumping thing but I had more fun...and delightfully cool feet for several minutes.
- Hubs jumped. None of that for me. I wanted a nice wade. My ugly little feet were in foot Nirvana for all of four minutes. Lovely.
The next stage was the turn to the sizeable Clach aCleirich boulder.....and here things got a lot more heated. As the heat climbed, so did we. The Hubs really began to struggle and stopped more and more. It was obvious he was not right. I insisted that we turn around but a Taurean Husband is the most stubborn of creatures and scarlet-faced and shiny with sweat he was determined to continue the walk.
The welcome sight of the smaller tors at the Sneck provided a focus until we reached the Sneck itself and spotted what the map contour lines had been telling us all along, that a nice steep sided shoulder was waiting to be climbed.
Oh bliss and joy. Still if it was easy, everyone would do it and bang goes the sense of achievement.
The zig zag ascent path opened up some truly spectacular views but my main focus was the rapidly deteriorating state of the Hubs. Again I pleaded with him to turn around but step by step with more breaks than paces we painfully ascended the shoulder.
- Perched on the shoulder of Ben Avon
- Beinn a Bhuird from Ben Avon shoulder. Behind me I think that my Hubs is dying.
- ...and he's nearly there. never seen him struggle so much. How on EARTH do I hoick him back down this mountain?
- Keep going Hubs. Please don't drop.
The large plateau of Ben Avon was THE most welcome sight, as was the crowning tor. After a water-break, Hubs found some minuscule energy reserves and together we made it to the Tor and all the way to the very top just as the WH instructions said.
- Good job he's a stubborn Taurean.
Enjoyed our achievement, posed for photos in our wild and lonely world of two and then noticed that the heat was dropping, the wind rising and the sky ahead rapidly turning the colour of Satan's bottom.
- Yay! The top of the tor, Leabaidh an Daimh Bhuide
- Too poorly to notice the thunderous clouds building behind him
- Yay! In the bag goes Ben Avon.
Not good.
We scrambled down and at the base of the Tor tucked into a much-needed lunch, speed-eating as the skies grew darker. Just before we finished large warm drops of rain began to fall.
- Inspired by the thought of a well earned lunch
Out came the waterproofs and ruckie protecters and not a moment too soon as the rain got fiercer and fiercer. Bouyed by our fuel we picked up the pace to a reasonable walk and made it the the very edge of the shoulder when the thunderstorm hit. Pretty awesome but terrifying too as there was nowhere to shelter at all and as the 5p sized hailstones hurled down at us we hunked into the ground with our backs to the stinging hail whilst thunder and lightning cracked over our heads.
- On our return we spotted a lone walker who'd appeared out of thin air. Minutes later we we hunched up in tiny foetal balls as a mean thunderstorm dumped 5p-sized hail stones on us. Even through our waterproofs it HURT
The storm passed and we got up and continued our descent.
- The storm passes and we continue down towards the Sneck
- Waving goodbye to our thunderstorm
Eventually got back to the bikes at the Fairy Glen and unchained them only to discover that the seats were COVERED in bird poo. Cheers, feathered friends, no more sandwich crumbs for you lot. A bit of alcohol gel and some Kleenex did the trick and we managed to cycle back in considerably less time than we'd come in, reaching a heady 23mph at one point.
Hubs survived and the pair of us managed the whole thing in just under 8 hours. Off home for a chicken curry pie.
Walked by Sarah and David.
. Grand hill Ben Avon.
. Just looking at your mightily impressive Munro count. I'll probably be 89 by the time I reach that amount 
