In the Autumn of 2024 our lives imploded a little when we learned that Andrew's mum was terminally ill. There were parties and visits filled with friendship and joy and then the painful decline of a wonderful woman. In amongst my job changing and us moving house, I struggled to make the long drive south to visit, instead taking to delivering Andrew to the station while I locked myself away making our space liveable and the passage of time tollerable. She passed away and we all spent months mourning, re-thinking, preparing for one last push - a memorial trip to Orkney, a place she loved.
The Orkney trip was both glorious and challenging for me. I had to share my space with people - something I'm really not used to. On the positive side, it was the most exquisite road trip from Sheffield to Thurso and onto the ferry then a week in a big house and some big cliff-top views. I swam in the sea many times, did my own hikes and group hikes and we scattered Freda's ashes from a beautiful spot, surrounded by my in-family and, of course, Lena. On the way home, I could not help but treat myself to a stop in at the Cairngorms to tick another walk off my list.
We'd just driven half way across Scotland in a sweaty van with very little rest. We were all exhausted from the emotional toll and we checked into the Blair Athol campsite a little nervous about being in a small pod after a week in a big house with 2 bedrooms.
My prep the night before was a feast of a cold meal due to it being far too hot to use a stove. We sat outside on a deck and only retreated when the midges came out for the night. Eventually the breeze got up and the pod windows went wide-open.
Andrew dropped me off for the hike but a miscalculation in footpaths put us hiking 4 miles back to the carpark above the campsite and up another road to start the walk. It's really not possible for me to fail to fuck this up.
Once on the track we did a last water stop and ate pre-lunch in the shade of a bothy. I was a bit concerned about the heat but at least if we got higher, we'd get out of it and it would start to cool as the day went on. There was a steady stream of people giving conflicting information about water supplies but we managed to get some from the last stream before the climb. Half way up we stopped for lunch, I put Lena's mat over her for shade as well as bracken and I lay down too and shut my eyes for a bit. We were stopped for 90 minutes. It was 3pm when we got moving fluidly. Plenty of false summits and we used the biggest cairns to get shade for a sit down.
We achieved the first Munro of Carn Liath and decided to do the second then make a call abotu whether to come down based on water availability since the book said it was a good descent route from there.
Below the col, the sunlight let me know there was water in the stream below so I ditched the rucsac in the heatehr and we scrambled down heathery slopes and a deer path to access the steely liquid. There was a single deer in the stream bed which Lena noticed when it heard us and took its leave at pace. She came out of hound-mode when she saw the water and she drank and paddled while I drank and filled all of the water bottles including the filter bottle and drank some more.
It momentarily cossed my mind that we could sleep there in the shilter of the steam bed and complete the other 2 peaks on the Friday but I convinced myself there was nowhere flat and the col beyond the next peak would also be sheltered. Filling water bottles in the wild evening, knowing you've still got a mountain to go and you'll enjoy a night out. Absolute bliss. I fed the dog.
A few more false summits and it got windier. My interest was piqued by rock-fields in the lee of the Peak, all with insufficient flat spots. We walked in the lee for easiier going and I managed to find acut-out wiht a tiny flat spot and, it being 8pm, decided to entrust my destiny to the Hilleberg tent and give it a proper trial in the wind. I dropped my rucsac on the spot and decided I'd better summit Braigh Coirre Chruinn-Bhalgain then so I didn't forget to in the morning. Walking to the top without the bag on was so liberating and disorientating as the breeze blew my feet from underneath me. Can't I do one hill that doesn't involve gales? Something that I've been saying for every route since November 2023.
On the col beyond the peak was another Hilleberg flapping vioneently in the wind as they pitched so I felt validated by my tiny tent in the rocks and retreated to pitch. As I did so the temperature dropped and I bundled lena indoors, only to have to get her out to move twice - once to rotate 180 degrees to get the door out of the wind and again to relocate to a flatter spot where I brewed up my dinner. It was good for brewing up water on the stove but windier in the end so I vacated the dog once more and moved the tent to a final pitch with the flattest floor and set about eating my dinner.
When I came to set up my matress, I found that the dog had been on top of the filter bottle with her pressing down on the nozzle. I had a puddle to clear up. She was so sorry! She licked herself dry while I mopped up with a sock and I'm quite embarrased tos ay that to save water, I wrang the sock out back into the empty filter bottle, then I dried off the dog's sodden tail, put a jumper on her and we had cuddles then she got onto her appointed bed and curled up to not move all night.
I managed to get out and take a photo of the sunset from my pee spot and also got a full red one from the tent door but by that time it was too cold to get out. It was 4 degrees C when I turned the Garmin on to check. I got out at 3am to pee in the lee of the tent because I needed the shelter. It is the closest I have ever toileted to the tent.
Remarkably I slept through to 6.45 when I was woken up by my neighbours passing.
I ate a sandwich and pork pie for breakfast as it was too difficult to brew up on the lumps. I laughed at myself for dreaming of a Utopia where I pitch my tent in plenty of time, have the conditions to make myself a decent dinner and cup of tea at camp and write in the book I've carried all the way up here.
We packed up at a little bit of a hustle to get the most done of climbine in cooler air but otherwise were happy to get going, only to find a brewtopia for breakfast in the form of a rock at just the right place - coffee and a rice crispie cereal from 150ml of remaining water. I'd forgotten how little water those things need. Yes, the sock water was used!
Walking in the wind was tough and for the out-and-back I dropped the pack by a rock and we walked over unladen, passed by a guy in a full coat, 2 guys in nothing but wool-knit jumpers and shorts and a woman in a puffer jacket who passed while I was sprawled on a rock trying to wrestle fruit from my rucsac without taking it off. She disapeared onwards without retracing so I am intrigued to imagine where she was off to.
Carn nan Ghabar (the final actual summit of Beinn a Ghlo) was liberating to be there unladen and I was so thankful for the ease of movement but I was so enlightened by my night out and proud of myslef for carrying my bag so far.
We re-traced the ridge in the lee of the hill and set off insearch of the path down which actually went over another 1000m peak which we were happy to do because the author promised the best route off the mountain.
It was enjoyable at first if I could persuade Lena to stop chasing after grouse and Ptarmigan and I could focus on avoiding wobbly boulders. We did a lot of descent before lunch and sprawled on steep grassy ledges to recover and rest through the 1pm heat. I pulled my shoes off and put my coat over Lena as it had quickly gone from windy and over exposed to sunny and blisteringly hot. We drank the last of our water.
The path went steep and turned into a nightmare. I let Lena off to prevent her pulling me over but mostly so she could go and find water on her own while I made my way down under control. there was no control. Foot slides repeatedly landed me on my ass on the rucsac and Lena's bet acted as a lovely buffer but 6ft slides at a time were not on my agenda for the day. After Lena found and had a drink, I saw her making her way straight down the stream bed and I had to call her to avoid risking losing her to a deer-chase. I was balling my eyes out calling her as she disappeared from sight. I cut across the heather on a deer track towards the stream bed and she happily came trotting over the edge. She'd helped me find a boggy, overgrown spring where water seeps from the earth and so I rushed over. She sat in it, lapping at one puddle while I pressed the filter bottle into the greenery and waited patiently while water dripped into the bag and we each enjoyed a half cup of water.
The worst was over. I put her back on the lead for the next bits then let her off to go and get her own way down to the main stream. I joined her a little further donw where I took my shoes in, got up to my calves in water then filled the packpack up again for the 6.5km hike out. We loitered for a considerable time before I texted Andrew and ETA back at the car park and set off at a march to make it in time.
I wreaked every possible pain on my body to make that hike out. I almost tripped over a rock and had a very primeval scream over not quite falling over with a 50 litre sack. I had stand-up rests because the idea of taking the pack off was to much so I just leant on some big boulders. I relentlessly pounded my feet into the ground and totally ignored the final opportunity for a paddle in the stream at the bottom of the hill. The sight of the van in the car park was an always-pleasant relief.
I went back to the hut pleasantly exhausted and slept it all off after dinner through the evening and then into the night, ready for the long drive home on Monday. Tuesday was another holiday from work day to recover from everything ahead and damn was it great!
