A ridge too Forcan far today...

Discussions had taken place between myself, Michael Irvine and Chris Bain via Facebook for the past week on heading out this weekend. We had a few ideas between us as to where to head...one of which was the Saddle and Sgurr na Sgine, two highly rated Munro's to the north-west of the South Glen Shiel ridge. In ruling out all other destinations in favour of this I was fully aware that the chances of returning home on the Saturday night without a summit claimed were pretty high...but the chance to go up and have a bash at the Forcan ridge at any time of the year is pretty powerful (my last visit there was rained off the day after completing the Sister's ridge with Louise Miller last year). Now that the destination was decided we had to agree the day for going...Saturday was the mutual choice with Michael and me, with Chris not able to make it after all. So we arranged to meet in Inverness, eight o'clock at Tiso car park, where I could leave my car and Michael could take up the driving from there. I was up at 0450, taking great care not to waken Gibb (which I failed miserably at) and out the door by 0530. The drive to Inverness wasn't as bad as I had feared, all stories about poor driving conditions were greatly exaggerated thankfully, bar two places where the snow had drifted across the road. Having had cereal at 0500 I was starving by the time I reached the outskirts of Inverness, so stopped at tesco for a banana to tide me over till lunch time. I arrived at Tiso just after the agreed time of 0800 and transferred my gear to Michael's car. Michael knew a shortcut to get onto the A87, though I think he just got lost in the backstreets of Inverness actually, and we were on our way. The drive from Aberdeen to Inverness had mostly been in darkness , coupled with a few rain showers, so I hadn't been able to see any of the snowy tops on the way up...but now, as we weaved our way along the A87 I was able to appreciate what potentially lay ahead for us. The ranges of Munro's along this route were snow capped and not a little intimidating to say the least as the weather started to close in. We were treated to three heavy downpours of sleet as we left Drumnadrochit and headed along the twisting road towards the Cluanie Inn. Visibility dropped as we continued to follow the twisting road through Kintail, Munro's that I have previously climbed loomed high into the gloom on either side of the road...a heavy sinking feeling in my heart hit me as reality dawned that this trip could be over before we even get out of the car!!! Then, as if our prayers had been answered, the sleet stopped and the gloom lifted off the tops. We kept our fingers crossed that it would stay like that until we could at least get our gear on and start off walking. 0915, slightly later than scheduled, we left the car parked at a layby on the A87 and crossed the road to the start point of the walk in. There was a dead otter by the side of the road that clearly hadn't read the WH report which urged caution when crossing the road!!

We passed through an iron gate then headed south along a well defined track, before turning south-west along the winding path, eventually turning north-west as the track started to climb towards the bealach between Biod an Fhithich and Meallan Odhar at 500m.

The path had become increasingly icy on the ascent, turning to snow higher up, until everything was white by the time we arrived at the bealach. We had noticed at least two groups of walkers ahead of us on the route up...both of which we were rapidly making ground on. From the bealach we turned south once more and headed up the snowy slopes of Meallan Odhar, turning south-south-west before the summit and skirting around her steep sides.

The views all around us had been impressive on the climb up, improving with every metre of ascent, taking in the South Glen Shiel ridge, the Sister's ridge and eventually the Brother's ridge away in the distance. Ahead of us the slopes of Biod an Fhithich had been dominating our view, until we turned onto the bealach and caught sight of the Forcan ridge ahead...

Unfortunately the weather then took a turn for the worse, a sleet shower hit us, and hit us hard. Visibility disappeared within seconds, all the cracking views snatched from sight. Gloves and hat were required now to stave off the cold and wet conditions we were being battered by...until it cleared again as quickly as it had arrived...phew a passing shower!!

When the sleet passed we could start to see the ridge ahead of us once more, but equally impressive was the view along the A87 to Shiel bridge and Loch Duich.

The slope continued to rise beyond Meallan Odhar, then dip, before rising again to reach the start of the Forcan ridge. When we arrived at the bottom of the ridge one of the other groups were there, donning helmets and crampons for the ascent of the ridge. I knew then, in my heart of hearts, that there was no way we would manage to traverse the ridge today!! I knew from reading various reports on it just how hard it would be to attempt in summer, never mind layered in ice and snow, so to see it now so close to touch yet well out of my capabilities in winter conditions, hit home how much more skills I require to attain before attempting anything of this magnitude in future.

We discussed our options at the foot of the ridge, I eventually persuaded Michael that we were in no way prepared for a safe assault on the ridge today...I am happy to indulge in scrambling in summer conditions but don't have the necessary skills with an ice axe to feel comfortable in this (I know how to self arrest if I slip but that's as far as my knowledge goes). I also regretted not having purchased a helmet as yet, and only having micro-spikes instead of crampons was not ideal today. There is an alternative route around the ridge, taking us up to Bealach Coire Mhalagain, following a drystone dyke (if it were visible), which we decided we would attempt instead. As we set off along this alternative route we could hear the group ahead of us stop and get roped up for the ridge above us. There was still no sign of the second group we had spotted earlier...

We continued along the bypass route, heading west, beneath the ridge, and could hear voices ahead of us...the second group perchance?? There were adequate footsteps in the snow to suggest a party had recently traversed ahead anyway. The drystone dyke was buried in the snow and we were relying on the GPS to guide the way. We could eventually see the other party ahead of us, heading for the Bealach also. We appeared to be catching them up but as they were being guided we didn't wish to intrude, so headed off south-west to go around them as we cut towards the Bealach Coire Mhalagain. They were also getting roped up for an ascent on the lower slopes of Sgurr na Forcan. As we arrived on the bealach the wind increased to blow spindrift in our faces. As we became more exposed to the elements the wind chill increased and then the visibility dropped once more as another blizzard headed in our way.

The bealach was now the only thing we could safely see...the Forcan ridge had disappeared to our right and the ridge of Faochag to our left was also obscured from view. We had a decision to make now...there was no way we could safely ascend to the north-west to tackle the Saddle...and the climb to Sgurr na Sgine looked anything but appealing in these conditions. I explained to Michael that we were looking at approximately an hour to get up onto the ridge of Sgurr na Sgine, then a further half hour at least to traverse along her rocky spine, before having to head off along Faochag, which would take at least another hour...that wasn't even including the descent off the steep slopes of Faochag back to the car!! It was almost one o'clock now...we had been walking for almost four hours already to get to this stage...there was not enough daylight left to safely complete this today. Sometimes you have to accept that the right decision isn't the one that you want to have to make, but you do it anyway because the hill will still be there when you decide to come back again in better conditions. So we agreed to descend and head home.

It is amazing how quickly the conditions can change on a Munro, one minute you are in a blizzard, then drop a hundred feet or so and clear skies can return, wind drops and you think about turning around again. But I have learnt from previous trips that once you have made your mind up to go down then you stick to that. The bonus of descending in daylight was the view that greeted our journey down the slopes...

We were able to, mostly, follow our own footsteps back down the slope to the bealach and then took a short break to remove some of our layers and finish our lunch...warm custard and gingerbread melted in my flask was almost like a soup by the time I consumed it...yummy!!

One last shot of Biod an Fhithich in the background before descending the frozen path back to the car.

It took us almost two hours to get down from the Bealach Coire Mhalagain to the car...a round trip of just under six hours. No summits claimed this time, no Jelly McBaby pics either, but a knowledge that we made the right decision and could return another time to bag one of the hardest ridges in Britain when we felt more prepared for it.

Until next time folks, stay safe in them hills.

 

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Update; upon arriving home on Saturday night I learnt that a young man had fallen off the Ben and died...another two walkers (one of whom I have walked with) had to be rescued off Stob Coire Essain in a blizzard. It puts our decision to descend when we did into perspective...better safe than sorry.

 

(Beinn) Ime happy to be back on a Munro...

Leaving six weeks between Munro trips is getting to be a bad habit...a habit that needs to be broken big style!! With that in mind, I have managed to free up three Sunday's in a row for Munro trips...now all I need is the weather to remain kind for me. Clearly the weather gods were NOT listening to me today then. I checked the MWIS forecast for west highlands on Friday and was promised 70% cloud free Munro summits and clear weather, despite the impending weather front that was due to strike Scotland for the next three weeks at least...I really should have checked it again on Saturday night, because it clearly changed in that period. I left Aberdeen at half six this morning and headed off to Arrochar, hoping to arrive no later than half nine ready to get going. Unfortunately the poor weather, coupled with surface water on the roads, means that some drivers cannot go any faster than 45 mph, and make it almost impossible to pass on our tight winding road network. I eventually arrived at the car park at Arrochar at ten o'clock...lost time to make up for! The last time I was down here to attempt Beinn Ime it was in conjunction with Beinn Narnain, I managed Narnain and most of Ime, but I succumbed to a stomach bug that left me unable to eat anything all day (not to be advised when attempting a Munro, never mind two Munro's) and subsequently devoid of energy.

But for today it was only the one Munro in my sights, and I was free of any ailments, had filled up with a healthy breakfast prior to leaving, so was hopeful of a successful jaunt. The snow had been falling steadily on the way down from Perth, the wind was thankfully minimal lower down, and I knew the start of the route from my previous venture here. I parked up in Succoth and crossed the road to the start of the route, unlike the last time when I had to start a strenuous climb from the word go, this time I followed a zig-zag path through the torn down forest that follows the Allt a' Bhalachain for a calf sapping 2k until the massive Narnain boulders are reached.  The snow was lying thicker than I had imagined (the last time I was here on 18th Jan 2012 it was limited to the summit tops) and it was slow work getting this far, or so it felt anyway. There were loads of other walkers out today, not bad considering the conditions, but then again we were on the access path to the most famous Corbett in the land, The Cobbler (Ben Arthur). It may not have the height to match the Munro's but it certainly has the character. With one of the most distinct outlines in the southern highlands, it has been increasingly popular amongst walkers to this area since the 1890's. Last time I was here I managed to get some cracking views of the Cobbler from atop Beinn Narnain...nae chance of a repeat today!! It was getting so claggy that I was struggling to see much further along the path I was on, never mind any of the peaks either side of me. The path continues on for a further 2.5k, rising so steadily that you barely notice an incline, until it reaches the Bealach a' Mhaim at a height of 637m. The snow was even thicker here, and beneath it all lay a very boggy (though thankfully frozen) bealach to cross. I could make out the fence at the far side of the bealach, now just to safely negotiate my way across to it. I followed what looked like previous footsteps, although faint because of the constant snow fall and wind, and with only a few stumbles to speak of I was safely across. From the fence it is a solid climb for the next almost 400m...not easy in these conditions. The wind was picking up and blowing spindrift constantly in my face, making it almost impossible to pick out the route beneath my feet. I struggled onwards and upwards into what was increasingly developing into a minor blizzard (is there such a thing??). Almost 200m further up and I saw the first two walkers since the turn off for the Cobbler...reassuring to know that I was not the only one attempting Beinn Ime today. It transpires that they were heading down without reaching the summit, after one of them had pulled his groin around 100m further up, almost 100m short of the summit, bummer!! They informed me that the wind only got worse higher up, and they were not wrong! What they omitted to tell me was that the visibility worsened with every upward step. I'm pretty sure that it was close to this spot that I admitted defeat the last time I was here, but given that I could hardly see my hand in front of my face I had no way of telling for sure. I plodded on against the gathering maelstrom, knowing that if I kept on this bearing then I would eventually stumble onto the summit cairn. Eventually the Munro went no higher and I knew I had reached my destination...then almost fell over the crags at the other side! I would usually take my time at a summit, drink in the views, take a multitude of pics, enjoy my lunch...but not today. I barely managed to get the frozen clips of my rucksack apart to allow me to free Jelly McBaby for a summit pic...indeed the poor wee fellow fell over in the wind, or slipped on the ice...so there was no way I was staying long enough to suffer the same fate! Annoyingly, I had prepared a flask of soup for today, hoping to stave off the chill effects of the weather, but now I was going to have to leave it until I could get out of the worst of this weather...carried all the way to the top of a Munro for nothing, I could have left it in the car and saved on the weight in my rucksack!! I started to retrace my snowy footsteps back off the summit, down through the rocks I had picked my way through on the ascent, very carefully of course as the slip factor increases on the descent. My next problem was that my footsteps from the ascent had started to disappear, meaning that I would have to take even more care on the way doooooooowwwwwwwnnnnnnn.....oh poop, too late!!! I swear I was being as careful as I possibly could, yet I still managed to step into a sucking bog on the way down hill...all the way in to my thigh with my right leg!! I pulled out as quickly as I could, but it was way too late to stop freezing cold water pour into my boot down the inside of my now soaking trousers. This was the last thing I needed in such poor weather conditions, I had no way of stopping at this stage and removing my boot so had to wait and suffer until I got lower down. I could feel the water moving inside my right boot all the way down the remainder of the hill, my sodden sock shuffling forward with each step, making my toes squeeze tighter together on the down steps and causing me no end of discomfort. I eventually reached the fence at the bealach again, stopping just long enough to remove my boot and wring the water out of my sock, before slipping them both back on again (note to self for future reference; always carry spare socks!!!) and attempting the rest of the return journey in real pain as the wet sock began to rub against my heel and toes. Apart from anything else, it was bloody freezing and my soaking leg was starting to feel the chill from my thigh down to my toes. The remainder of the trek back to the car was done in a grumbling self flagellating (verbal only) way as I cursed every pained step of the way back down the frozen path. Just before the Narnain Boulders I caught up with the two guys from earlier, the ones that turned around before the summit, and they asked how the top had been? I explained that they hadn't missed out on anything worth seeing, and that appeared to cheer them up a bit. I shuffled on down the path...the final descent down the zig zag path was agony as I had blisters coming up on my heel and outer toes from the soaking sock rubbing against my skin and squeezing my toes together against my boot. I returned to the car desperate to get out of my wet bottom half...top half was nice and cosy by contrast...and in need of a heat up. Total journey time was 4.25 hours, for a distance of around 12k and almost 1000m of ascent. I also still had an almost 3 hour drive home in deteriorating conditions to contend with...who says the life of a Munro bagger ain't glamorous???
Until next time (hopefully not 6 weeks this time!!) stay safe on them thar hills folks...

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St Andrew's day walk along the chilly glen...

20 days since my last Munro and this time my only excuse had been the lack of time off work. St Andrew's day was to see an opportunity for a short trip out to Inverey and the chance to attempt Carn Bhac. This would involve a lengthy trek out to Glen Ey, considered one of the loneliest glens in Scotland, but only an hour and a half drive from home.

My destination today was the tiny outpost of Inverey, on the turn off from Braemar to Linn of Dee. This remote community was the last place in eastern Scotland where Gaelic was spoken, in the 1930s; it is split by the Ey burn; the east side (Meikle Inverey) was Protestant whilst the west (Little Inverey) was Catholic.

I left the car parked up in Inverey and started along the route at about quarter to nine (sticking to the Catholic side of the Ey burn)...immediately thanking my good sense in wearing thermal baselayers and a fleece buff for a change...it was bloody freezing!!! I rarely wear gloves, certainly this past year, and usually only when height is gained and I am exposed on a summit ridge. Today was decidedly different though...the temperature when I left the car said -4.5 and I was already feeling the chilling effects on my fingers. I don't have the best circulation anyway, but today my fingers were turning so numb it was hurting...and that was less than 1k from the car park!!! With gloves pulled on and buff to protect face from the worst of the chill I carried on out to my first stop on the route...the Colonel's bed. This is an overhanging rock and gorge, partly collapsed, which in the 17th Century was used by a colonel, outlawed for the murder of a Laird, as his refuge, where he was brought food each day by his lover; It is only a short detour off the route and is well worth a visit...but step carefully, especially when the path is frozen over.
After taking a few snapshots of the gorge I headed back onto the frozen track and eventually back onto the Glen Ey footpath. A further 2k along the route and I was standing by the ruins of Auchellie farm. There is an alternative route from here that heads off up the back of the ruins and takes you up to Carn nan Seileach, eventually leading to the bealach between Carn Bhac and Carn Creagach. Unfortunately this route would avoid the beautifully lonely walk into Glen Ey, and if you are going to head to Carn Bhac then there is no way you would want to miss out on a walk into desolation. With the chilled crisp air cutting through me I continued on my merry lonely way, cutting close to the burn once more, then heading south-east for a kilometre and a half. After another bridge crossing I headed south-west along the path for almost a further three kilometres, crossing the Ey burn at least twice more, getting further and further away from any signs (or sounds) of civilisation. The burn was starting to freeze over as the temperature continued to drop...the hills around were bathed in sunshine but there was no heat to be found this low down in the shelter of the glen. I arrived at the ruins of Altanour lodge to find that the snow on the ground was starting to get thicker underfoot. The view into Glen Ey was stunning from here, all of the tops were thickly smeared in frozen whiteness, from An Socach directly south of me, to Beinn Lutharn Mhor to the south-west. A stunningly white vista surrounded me and I had to find the best way onto Carn Bhac. The route I had read about spoke of heading for the bealach between Carn Bhac and Carn Creagach...but I had a different plan in my mind. A kilometre along from Altanour lodge the path technically stops and you have to head off up slope in a north-west direction to make the bealach...or you can continue to follow the stream to the Allt nan clach geala a further kilometre along and ascend the slopes from there. The stream was frozen in places lower down and surprisingly there was a narrow track following the line of the stream, most unexpected but gratefully followed none the less. The snow was getting thicker underfoot and I stopped long enough to put on gaiters and stretch out my walking poles in preparation for the slog up the snowy slopes. The going was tough at the start, most probably down to my lack of fitness in the past few months, but I soon got into a decent stride as I made my way through the snowy gorse covered slopes. The views on the way up were stunning, with everything for miles around covered in snow, An Socach, Beinn Lutharn Mhor, Carn an Righ, Glas Tulaichean, Carn a' Gheoidh, Carn Aosda and The Cairnwell. Carn Bhac may not be the most exciting Munro I have ever attempted but the snowy vista all around me was more than making up for any short comings in my target. As I gained height I could start to make out a blizzard blowing in from the west, as I made the summit plateau it was already apparent that Carn an Fhidheir and An Sgarsoch were nowhere to be seen. Summit cairn located, Jelly McBaby out for a pose, and a cracking view into the main body of the Cairngorms. I was able to pick out the Lairig Ghru and Ben Macdui and Braeriach standing guard either side of her. 
A quick bite of sandwich and refuel with some juice and I left the summit plateau behind, just as the blizzard blowing in from the west was reaching the extremities of the Munro. I headed off towards the bealach between Carn Bhac and Carn Creagach, looking to completing the route in a circular fashion by dropping off the top of Carn nan Saileach, rather than reversing my outward route via Glen Ey. The traverse down the slopes was slow going as the snow had gathered thicker on this side of the hill and I kept dropping in holes to my thigh, I was clearly crossing peat bogs beneath the snowy covering. Taking great care not to drop through to the bogs beneath, I picked my way down the slopes and started to cross the bealach, cutting to the north-east to pick my way around the slopes of Carn Creagach, rather than head across the top of her.  The going felt very slow and cumbersome at the time (though given my total route time it really couldn't have been), sapping the strength from my calves as I plodded through some squelchy patches and half frozen rivulets of water coming down the side of the Corbett. The views into the Lairig Ghru and the Beinn Bhuird range were increasingly stunning as the sun dropped and the clouds gathered around them to give off an ethereal effect...plenty to see in the distance to maintain my interest on the way off. Thankfully the blizzard that I had feared was going to overtake and swallow me up diverted in the changing wind, instead heading into Glen Ey and out of my reach. I reached the bealach between Carn Creagach and Carn nan Saileach and continued to follow the path along the crest of the hill before me. Not too long afterwards, heading quickly down hill, I spotted the ruins of Auchellie below me...not too far left to go now. Once back at the path below I reversed my initial route, passed the Colonel's Bed, and returned once more to the car park, arriving back at around quarter past two (5.5 hrs after departure). The car was frozen over and required a scrape prior to leaving on the short trip back to Aberdeen...until next time...197 in the bag...85 remain.

     
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Another dreich day ahead...

Six and a half weeks...that's not the title to some dodgy Mickey Rourke sex film sequel...it's the length of time since my last footstep on a Munro!! September 27th on Beinn Eighe until November 10th when I tackled Ben Vorlich down by Inveruglas...that's an absolute eternity for me!! There were a number of factors behind the huge gap between Munro's...preparing for and passing a promotion board at work...two bouts of a vicious strength sapping lurgy (not manflu!!!) to contend with...a trip to Alton Towers...a few weekends pre arranged to spend with nearest and dearest...lots of extra shifts at work...and a weather system that just wouldn't relent on my available days off!!! I may not have climbed any hills in those six and a half weeks but I certainly climbed the walls as I waited for my opportunity to get back into the one thing that keeps me sane in this mad bad world of ours. I had initially hoped to pick off Ben Vorlich in a two day break away along with Beinn Ime (the last intended trek this far south) but I was itching to be on a Munro and needed something short to allow me to drive there and back in the same day.

I set off from Aberdeen in rather wet conditions (dreich to us locals) in the vain hope that it would improve as I travelled further south...no chance!! I passed through Perthshire and down the A85, through Crianlarich onto the A82 and off towards Loch Lomond dismayed at the increasingly wet conditions outside. As I parked up in the visitor centre car park in Inveruglas the rain was battering down on the roof of my car, making me consider my options;

 

1. to stay in the car and head back up the road with my tail between my legs.

2. to get out, pull on waterproofs and suck it up like the Munro bagger I am meant to be!!!

 

Although option one may have sounded more tempting to the majority of the world, Munro baggers are a different breed of animal. Driven by an unspoken desire to trudge remorselessly up the wettest boggiest slopes imaginable, whilst grinning like a madman as rain cascades down your outer layers, permeating through every layer you wear eventually, leaving you sodden and cold and tired and sore...option two was the only real choice I could make.

There are many trips where the motivation to climb a Munro is in your surroundings...the beautiful weather...the view that awaits you from the top...fine company...the challenge of climbing some of the most rugged landscape in Britain...the isolation of knowing you may be the only person for miles around in a desolate landscape...all of the above and quite a few more besides usually motivate me to get out of the car and get myself up a hill.

 

But there are other times, like today, when you know that the weather is not going to get any better, that the view from the top will be non existent, the Munro is not that rugged or exciting, the reason no-one else is there that day is because of all of the above, then the motivation is only to increase your tally by another notch, take one step closer to completion...and as a bagger I can live with that.
Leaving the car behind, I headed along past the Sloy hydro-electric power station on the other side of the road. The last time I was here, in April with Louise, the weather was quite similar to today...cold damp and little chance of a view!! I passed under the railway bridge and followed the road around to the electric sub-station. There was a construction team there (yes on a Saturday) though unsurprisingly in the conditions they were all sitting in portakabins supping tea. Onwards I plodded, some of us don't mind the rain once we are out in it, heading towards the Sloy dam. Further along the road I could make out a group of other walkers, perhaps I would have some company after all?? I appeared to be catching up with the group just ahead of me, possibly around eight walkers, with each passing step (I do set a reasonable pace when out on my own). But just as I appeared to be on course to catch them before turning off the path and heading uphill they turned off to the left and headed to Ben Vane instead...alone again.
The views were going to be obscured by mist all day, judging by the thick layer descending down the slopes of Ben Vane, and heading off up the slopes (without a path) at the small cairn I could feel a dejection envelope me. Rain began to fall heavier around me and the temperature dipped as I gained height...then I had a wee boost...on the slopes ahead of me, just disappearing into the mist, were a couple of other walkers. I now had a target to reach, attempting to catch these brave souls before they made the summit. 
The WH site says that the climb from here is unremittingly steep and tiring...and I fully concur. The lack of views and the rain tumbling down meant my head was down and I was plodding into the mist without fear of missing anything worth seeing...even the view back down to the loch below was pretty poor and short lived. I could now understand why the two ahead of me were appearing to be going so slowly...this was thigh bursting territory and my lack of recent Munro activity was taking it's toll. Onwards and upwards, splish splashing through the mud, the path improves the higher you ascend, eventually bringing you out onto the south ridge of the Munro. The ridge is straightforward from here and gradually inclines towards the trig point...the main cairn is a further 200m further along to the left from the trig point. It was at this point that I caught the young couple ahead of me, just a few strides from the summit cairn, but allowed them to get there first. As we stood passing the time of day the first snow of the day arrived on the summit...quickly turning the summit cairn and plateau white.
Jelly McBaby was rather reluctant to emerge from the warmth of the rucksack initially, but I soon fished him out and perched his podgy little legs on the summit cairn for a heroic pose. The weather started to worsen and the other couple decided to leave for a more sheltered location in which to have their sandwiches. I snaffled down half a BLT and a quarter of a mint cake, then set off back down the slopes again. Amazingly the snow stopped as I turned post a huge outcrop of rock and the surreal sight of white out summit on one side of this outcrop and green slopes on the other greeted me. I passed the young couple as I headed down the path, they had indeed stopped for a sandwich, and continued down the slippy slopes. I feel it was to my great credit that I actually only slipped twice on the way down...though one of them left a deep gouge for approximately 10m due to me digging in my elbow!!! Thankfully the rain managed to wash most of the mud off the sleeve of my jacket before I stepped boot back on tarmac at the bottom of the slopes...leaving only the trudge back to the car to contend with. By the time I got back to the car I was soaked through as my old boots had reminded me why I had gotten new ones earlier in the year (saying that, 3 season boots would have gotten just as wet today, so there was logic in my choice of footwear!!). I must have looked quite a sight to all the tourists stopping at the visitor centre as I got changed out of wet clothes and, semi naked, adorned warm dry clothes for the drive back up the road. On a plus point though, it was another Munro closer to completion and I managed it in only 4.5 hours. Having had to wait so long between my last Munro and today, I was hopeful that my next one would not be so long a wait...196 in the bag.

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