Today I climbed my first solo Munro in quite a long time. I don’t approach the hills with the same nonchalance that I did when starting out in this hobby, hence there has been gap in my hillwalking accomplishments. These days I give great scrutiny to potential plans before committing to anything. Is the weather just right? What are the financial implications? Do I feel comfortable going alone as a female walker? It is probably no bad thing to be extra cautious, but it is curious to see my free-spirited youthfulness slip so obviously away.

Still, with bright sunshine forecast for the whole day and, with no other plans available to me, I decided that today was a pretty good day to kick-start some 2025 hillwalking alone. However, before I left, I made some key decisions to reduce my adult anxieties.



First, I chose a very popular walking route. This would mean that even though I’d be walking solo, there would always be people around should I need them (and I did, in the end up, need the assistance of others – to borrow two pounds for the car park fee from a very generous couple!). I also picked a simple route that wouldn’t require serious navigation in good conditions – a skill that I’m still not confident I have. Finally, I took all my gear – layers of clothing, food, a first aid kit, an emergency shelter… I must have looked like I’d gone a bit overboard to many of the other walkers on the hill, some of whom were confidently walking up in hoodies, jogging trousers and trainers. However, having this equipment meant that I could walk onto the hill feeling comfortable and content so I won’t feel any self-consciousness for it. Anyway, all of these considerations brought me to the foot of Shiehallion on this early April morning.

I set off at eight thirty as the ground sparkled with frost and a chill hung in the air. I wandered slowly along the first gently sloping paths, trying to take in the peace and quiet that I was suddenly surrounded with. I can make my life so busy at times – so full of plans, and goals, and ambitions – that it takes a conscious effort to turn that stream of energy off. Or just down, for a little while at least. However, as I got into a steady, comfortable rhythm, my thoughts eventually began to quieten, perhaps tuning in to the mountain’s easy company.



Wandering onwards, I took very few pictures of the route as I did not want the distraction of having to take my phone out. Instead, I paused to take in the view myself, and felt a little buzz of happiness inside for doing so.

I took on the rocky peak of Schiehallion with confidence and, within a couple of hours of starting my ascent, I was at the top. Here the views were just incredible. The brilliant blue skies of spring hung over the lochs and mountains in the area, giving them a vivid sharpness that probably isn’t visible too many days of the year. There were no clouds to be seen either so these views stretched on for miles and miles. I stood in awe of it all and had one resounding thought. I don’t want to be anywhere else but here.



My descent from the hillside was gentle as I took my time to enjoy the brilliant views a little longer. The path was obviously busier now than when I had made my climb and I said a friendly hello to the many people and dogs that passed (I wonder now if the clean white Pomeranian made it to the top). I took lots of pictures now too so that I would have a few mementoes from the day to look back on. It was looking at these images just now, back on my sofa at home, that sparked this reflection on my day.



As the bright sunshine from the day settles into a warm sunset, I feel so peaceful and happy. The anxieties surrounding my walk, and the ferocious planning that I did have long since left. Now I am just content, a feeling that I know is solely down to the fact that today I made the decision to climb my first solo Munro in quite a long time.