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Ladhar Bheinn
Map Today started fine although not quite as clear as it had been yesterday. We managed to set off suitably porridged by 9.15 and after avoiding the weedfield by miraculously stumbling onto the right start point we followed the same route as before, up to the green hut which lies just before the Dark Lochan. There, with loins well girded, we started up the steep, grassy hillside, aiming diagonally for a col, Mam Suidheig, which would be our gateway to the rough and narrow ridge of Aonach Sgoilte. It was hard going with no path there and fingers of long grass determinedly grasping at your ankles as if wanting to keep you there forever. As we fought our way up the slopes there was a constant Wagnerian bellowing of stags echoing around the glen, adding a fitting note of challenge and conflict to the occasion.
At length we made it onto the ridge and from there the going was easier, taking us round a long horseshoe - or more like two sides of a triangle really. The ridge became rockier as we progressed, quite narrow in places and there were several up and down bits to keep us well exercised.
On reaching the unnamed 849 metre peak, over a mile along the ridge, we turned sharp left and proceeded up the other arm of the 'triangle'. During the course of the preceding stretch, however, the cloud had been closing in and by now visibility was becoming quite restricted. We could still see some way ahead but the great views and the wider picture eluded us - which was a pity as this was a great landscape.
A rough and rocky ridge rose before us now, leading towards a summit lost in mists. There was one large outcrop on the way up which was quite hard work and then, on the final steep ascent to the summit ridge, we encountered a quite awkward bit. Nothing major, just awkward. It was a spot where we had to scramble up some rock using our hands and whatever holds we could find. The rock was wet from the light mist-cum-drizzle and it was also getting quite cold now. I was wearing gloves which made the holds even more awkward so I pulled one glove off with my teeth, only to be left with the problem of what to do with it. I was halfway up by now and on one of those awkward, downwards-sloping, narrow ledges which was made worse by an overhanging bit pushing me out towards the drop. Then as I was struggling for grip, with my walking pole in one hand and my glove between my teeth, of course my blasted fleece hat chose that moment to slip down over my eyes. Very exasperating. I knew I was in imminent danger of slipping and though I would only have fallen about 12 feet… well 12 feet is enough to hurt if not to break something and this was no place to get broken.
Andrew meanwhile was further over to the right, scrambling up his own similarly desperate route and I could no longer see where he was - his yelled advice, however, was that it would be no easier turning back to follow his route and I wasn't even sure if I could safely turn back now anyway. Trying to hold on with one hand I threw my gloves and walking pole up above the crags to safer ground and then managed to readjust my cap. Next came a fairly precarious moment or two leaning back almost past the tipping point in order to get past the overhang - well more of a jutting out bit really - but at last I was able to get a grip on the topmost bit and haul myself up. I was glad when that bit was over. After that it was a more straightforward climb up onto the main crest. It was cold up there and, with patchy visibility, not at all obvious where the actual summit was. After a short distance we came upon a small cairn and took a picture; a hundred yards later, however, there was another cairn so we took another picture (3.30). Then finally we came to a broken trig point. These are often the summit points but not always - we took a picture anyway. Later consultation concluded that the second cairn was the summit.
It was all very bleak, wet, opaque and cold now so we didn't pause to slap our backs and reminisce about all the other great clouds we'd seen and stumbled around in. Instead we continued all the way to the NW end of the ridge where we were faced with a very steep drop down to the glen - worryingly steep in places but although there were crags a-plenty scattered across our route of descent there were always ways past them and we got down without any major problems.
Then followed what seemed like an interminably long and tiring walk back to… civilisation. Well Inverie anyway. We finally emerged by the pub, feeling pretty exhausted after 17 miles of hard terrain. Unfortunately we were on the far side of the pub and had to walk the familiar half mile to the bunkhouse (7.22) to get tidied up then all the way back again in order to get fed and beered. At least the final half-mile leg back to the bunkhouse later that night was softened by the benevolent hazying effects of alcohol. Incidentally we learned that the East Lothians had opted for a gentler day today and hadn't attempted either Meall Buidhe or Luinne Bheinn. Although we had been less fortunate with the second day's weather we'd still had it pretty good overall and as it happened the next day turned out to be the best of all - glorious blue skies and warm, golden sunshine. Unfortunately it was the day for going home but it still made for a nice sail back to Mallaig after the boat had picked us up at 11.00.
We didn't get away from Mallaig till 12.30 and the late start made for a long day's travelling - got back to Ware about 11.30 pm. Which leaves me 19 Munros to go. No more till Feb/March now but I did have a wee outing up the Brecon Beacons with some lads from work. Outside the scope of this account but this photo nicely sums it up:
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