We had survived the night in the smoke filled bothy but awoke the next morning looking like a couple of coal miners after a particularly long and hard shift. There was no mirror but we took each others word for it. Besides, judging by the colour of stuff coming out of our noses and the blackness of our hands, there were no prizes for guessing that our faces looked less than pristine. Kev decided to bail out and give Carn Dearg and Carn Dearg a miss. Perhaps he knew what sort of a day it was going to be. I on the other hand decided to persevere. I could tell from the grey, overcast skies above me that it would be no belter, but I didn't know exactly how grim it would turn out to be and in any case, I was rather blinded not only by the smoke from the stove the previous evening but by my desire to hit the 100 Corbetts mark. So Kev packed his bags and after a quick daunder over to get a close up of the White Falls, he hit the road back to the car at Brae Roy Lodge and a date with a long, hot shower and scrubbing brush. I had a quick breakfast, spruced the place up a bit, filled in the bothy book and took the spade for a short walk, before attempting to wash as best as I could in the Allt Chonnal.

The cold light of day and some fresh air to inhale

Take masks all ye who enter there!

With face and hands that were still largely ingrained with smoke and coal dust, I set off in the rain and full waterproofs up the track directly behind the death trap of a bothy, closely following the Allt Chonnal upstream to the bridge at 389945.

Back down the Allt Chonnal to the bothy and White Falls

Crossing the Allt Chonnal

Once across the bridge, the track goes downhill rapidly (in terms of quality that is, not literally) and by the time I crossed the confluence of the Allt a' Creag Chail and the Allt Chonnal, the track had become little more than a notional feature with only a very tenuous hold on the landscape itself.

The Allt a' Creag Chail joins the Allt Chonnal, Carn Dearg (South) now visible beyond

The contours now pushed me away from the narrowing glen of the Allt Chonnal to my left and higher up the rough southern slopes of Leac nan Uan and I made a bee line towards the rocky little knoll of Creagan nam Meann at the midway point on the broad bealach between Leac nan Uan and the southern Corbett.

The twin Corbetts looking most appealing

Despite the occasional sighting of a hint of blue sky overhead, the day had turned into one of squalls and almost continuous showers and there seemed nothing to indicate that the rest of the day would not follow the same pattern. I was beginning to doubt whether I had the heart for both Corbetts but then it seemed daft not just to get them both done now after all the effort.

Following the old fence line to Creagan nam Meann

Creagan nam Meann and Meallan Odhar

Southern Carn Dearg

I stopped to top up my water bottle from a stream before starting the real ascent and was almost blown off my feet by a gust which had me momentarily staggering around and only just avoiding falling into the stream. And to think Kev will be in his nice, dry, warm car by now!!!!! I had a mouthful of dates and almonds and quietly cursed to myself before heading for the northern side of Meallan Odhar and the ascent of Carn Dearg.

Carn Dearg from the ascent of Carn Dearg

Corbett number 100 in the bag. Nothing else to report! Move along now!

It didn't seem to matter which side of the cairn I hunkered down at for some shelter, I still seemed to be taking a battering from the wind and with no views to enjoy, it was a fairly desperate way to celebrate a century of Ronnies. I crammed some more dates and almonds down my throat and fought to keep the OS sheet flat and in one piece while I took a bearing on the other Carn Dearg. Then I sat and looked at where the bearing was taking me - into the clag - and thought WTF!!!! I got the compass back on the map and this time took a bearing on the far end of the long, broad shoulder of Teanga Mhor to the south west. Then I silently cursed to myself again that I didn't have a coin to toss! I sat for another few minutes before looking at the OS sheet once again and making my decision. Plan B. Teanga Mhor and the top end of Glen Turret. Evacuate!

Descending the broad shoulder of Teanga Mhor

The wind was whipping across my bows and combined with the very rough, tussocky terrain, was causing me to stagger like a drunkard down the shoulder. Anybody watching would have concluded that I had been at the Raspberry Big Dog Chew again!

Glen Turret from near the end of the Teanga Mhor shoulder

The map clearly indicated how steep the drop down into the head of Glen Turret was going to be but what a knee jarring experience it was! On more than one occasion I ended up on my backside. Maybe some Raspberry Big Dog Chew would have made it less painful!

Once down at the bridge over the River Turret, I stopped for another bite to eat and to wait for my legs to stop shaking before heading out through the glen and back to Brae Roy Lodge.

Glen Turret

That descent off Teanga Mhor and a standalone fireplace and chimney

Things may not have gone according to plan, and I stunk like a smoked kipper, but I had finally hit the magic 100 Corbetts and ticked off Luib Chonnal bothy in the process. And I would be back in Glen Turret some day, hopefully a nicer day, to deal with a little spot of unfinished business on my Corbett odyssey.

Almost back

Brae Roy Lodge and the east Glen Roy hills

Lang may yer lum reek!