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It’s been a long time coming… Back in 2014, with 64 Munros to climb to finish the round, I said to myself ‘Self, you need a plan’. And so it was that I divided 64 into 3, came up with 20 a year + 4 and I’d be done in just under 4 years. Secretly I was hoping I could do them in 3 but what with having a full-time job, a transnational personal life, the vagaries of the Scottish weather and the remoteness of most of my remaining Munros, I knew that 4 full years was probably more realistic. I also needed to identify a hill to finish on. The usual suspects had already been climbed and quite a few potential candidates were difficult to access or a bit challenging for a group ascent. And I had also left myself with quite a lot of remote hills, including the Fisherfield 6 (well 5+1). And so it was that prevarication, weather and some nice breaks too led three years later with the Fisherfield 6 and Ben Hope standing between me and compleation. But then winter set in and there was no way I could finish before December 2016. I had to bide my time and hope that spring 2017 would bring glad tidings. And it did.
Hill essentials by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
Six weeks after my successful Fisherfield adventure, 11 of us stood at the car park in Strath More to turn the last page in what has been a 23 year chapter of my life. In ages we ranged from 12 to 59 although the median age was definitely in the 50s, so a mature lot + Coulin the dog.
It must be the right hill by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
The clouds were high and clearing the summits, with lots of blue sky and despite a stiff breeze fairly balmy temperatures. The walk passed without incident – it’s an easy ascent though a bit steep at first but the long southern slopes leading to the summit offer an easy incline.
Untitled by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
The dog must have climbed that hill three times, racing up, down and around, James, our youngest walker (for whom this was his second time on Ben Hope), made his own pace, taking frequent rests. David kept up with Ben until his reserves of energy deserted him and he let himself drop to the ground for a good recline! Ben whose third visit this was rushed up to the summit hoping to get the views that had eluded him on his previous visits. The rest of us just plodded on.
James and Coulin by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
Someone asked me a few days later how I felt on the day. I was quite nervous in the run up to the long drive from Falkirk to the Kyle of Tongue. I woke up on the morning of the walk feeling some trepidation but also a sense of the surreality of the situation. I was itching to get started at the car park. However on the way up it was just a normal hillwalk interspersed with the occasional reminders that, no, this was not a normal hillwalk at all – IT WAS MY LAST MUNRO. So a mixed bag of emotional states.
Two hours passed really quickly and soon enough I was striding excitedly towards the trig point, leaving the peloton behind. A photo shoot ensued – Me by the trig point, with my hat on, without, with a glass of champagne, with my hood on, and off. I felt a bit like a bride! I think it was acceptable to look smug. Then we retreated behind the trig point to get out of the wind gusts!
Almost there by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
Pose by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
Cheers by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
Cheers by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
Cheers by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
Group pic by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
The clouds were still clearing, quite a few still bubbling up in the north with a persistent haze smearing the horizon. But the air got clearer, the sky bluer and the views more distinct. A few of us wandered over to the top of the crags and enjoyed being out of the gusts. This also gave me a hankering for coming back and ascending it via the north/north east ridge.
High points of the panorama laid out around us: Ben Loyal (what a dramatic looking hill), the sands of the Kyle of Tongue, Loch Eriboll, Foinaven, the faint outline of the Ben More Assynt and Conival group, and what we surmised was the Dounreay power station glinting in the haze.
Untitled by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
Untitled by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
Kyle of Tongue sands by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
Foinaven by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
Panorama West by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
We ran out of whisky, champagne and home made cake so there was nothing to do but retrace our steps back to the car!
The descent... by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
Strath More by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
At the car park we bade farewell to some of our companions and the rest of us drove back to the hostel in perfect weather. By then the sky was immaculately blue and Ben Hope and Ben Loyal kept us company all the way back to the causeway.
Ben Hope, evening by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
We had two hours for showers and more alcoholic beverages before the walk up to the Ben Hope hotel for a celebratory meal.
Casteal Bharraich by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
Walking back from the pub by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
Epilogue – we woke up the next morning in a cloud. The views which had charmed us the day before had been removed overnight to be replaced by murk and swarms of midges. We quietly congratulated ourselves on our luck at having made our ascent in a window of good weather.
Ben Hope by
Emmanuelle Tulle, on Flickr
The letter to the SMC was posted a few days ago. I asked the Clerk of the List whether I was the first French person and/or woman to compleat all the Munros. I received a response telling me that I was Munroist no 6177 and that there is no record of there being French Munroists before me. Therefore this makes me the first French Munroist which I think you’ll agree calls for another glass of champagne!
Thanks to Ben, Elaine, David, Alan, Lyn, James, Sandra and Johann for some of the pics.