Another failed attempt, and some winter lessons learnt

Saturday 12th December 2015

Wasdale, Lake District - Scafell Pike

We’ve been hoping to complete the national three peaks this year, after our ascent of Ben Nevis in September and quick dash up Snowdon in October. Yes, I know some people do it in under 24 hours but we don’t like to rush. Our mutual weekends off and available for mountain climbing have not coincided with the good weather so far, so we’d decided to just go for it “come hell or high water” this weekend.

Well the high water was sadly far more accurate than we would ever have expected, with the Lake District being hit with terrible flooding last week. But the worst hit was the eastern side, with the road through to Wasdale Head in the West cleared and passable by the weekend.

We travelled up on the Friday evening after my post Christmas do hangover had subsided, I’d had my hair cut and we’d faffed around packing for ages. We stayed the night in a favourite camper van overnight stop about 45 minutes from Wasdale Head, and found that we were surprisingly warm overnight and didn’t need Claire’s bagpuss hot water bottle.

We were up at 5.15am (!) on the Saturday in order to drive to Wasdale, use the toilets, get kitted up, and be on our way up the hill at sunrise, which I had arbitrarily calculated as being 7am. Fortunately my calculations were wrong, as we did not run to schedule. It was still night time at 7am but by the time we were ready to go at about 7.45am, dawn had broken and we could clearly see the rain, which was not supposed to be falling until lunchtime - the whole reason for the ridiculously early start.

It was very mild in the valley so we weren’t wearing loads of layers under our waterproofs, they were all in our rucksacks with our sandwiches, pork pies, sausage rolls and mince pies. We’d packed ice axes and crampons, but were certain they wouldn’t be required as it was about 15 degrees, so left them in the van.

We took the tourist route up - the shortest and easiest, from the National Trust car park near Wasdale Head. It was pretty easy going with a well made path, which was a relief because it would have been very muddy without. Much to our surprise, the steady rain started turning to sleet at about 350 metres and snow a short while later. This really should not have been a surprise to us, as it was exactly what the mountain weather forecasters had predicted, it was just a few hours early.

After a while it started to get a quite slippy underfoot because it was proper snowy, so we had to slow down a bit. We put another layer on and had a sausage roll and carried on. Before long, the snow was impeding walking significantly, with one foot sliding out in a random three dimensional direction from under us on about every fourth step. By the time we got near to the junction with the incoming “corridor route”, the snow was drifting above knee height in some places. The snow was too soft for crampons but we wished our ice axes were with us instead of in the van as we’d both had a couple of slippy-slidey moments. We were just bordering on being cold, but so long as we kept moving we were okay. We had to stop again to get our face coverings out. No, we hadn’t converted to Islam, but the wind had picked up and was blowing the new snow around in a manner that I can only describe as how I imagine being sandblasted by mini icicles would be. One we’d got our trusty buffs pulled up to our eyes, things improved slightly. However, our eyes were still being blasted by the icicles, and because our faces were covered we couldn’t eat any of the other food we’d got, which was a shame because I was starving.

The last 300 vertical metres or so were directly into the wind, which was making things extremely difficult as we couldn’t see. Not being able to see is bad enough, but when you’re trying to plant each foot onto a nice flat stable rock rather than a snowdrift on top of nothing, it becomes a real problem. So much so that we reluctantly decided to turn back with less than half a kilometre in total and about 200 vertical metres to go. Hiking and mountaineering is one of the few sports where there is no shame in turning back. in fact, is positively encouraged if it’s likely to avoid a mountain rescue callout or similarly embarrassing and costly situation. Claire even managed to do a quick video to show how bad it was.

So we set off back down, slightly grumpy, but relieved at being facing away from the evil icicles. We huddled under our survival shelter for 10 minutes to eat our sandwiches and have some coffee and then set off back down. We got back to the van for about 11.30am, dumped all our wet kit into bin bags and had the rest of the coffee, along with the mince pies. The only plus side was that I made some custard to go with them.

In hindsight, it was probably not the best day to try and ascend England’s highest peak. But we have learnt a few things for our next winter adventure:

• Keep food in pockets and not rucksacks for easy access.
• Have face coverings fairly handy and not in the bottom of the rucksack.
• Bring ice axes (definitely) and crampons (probably) even if you think you probably wont need them.
• Carry ski goggles. This would have made the difference between us getting to the summit or not on this trip.
• Wear merino wool rather than synthetic base layer to avoid smelling like a wet dog.
• Get a better wet kit holder for the van as bin bags rip and leak.
• Take the normal camera as it’s impossible to operate an iPhone with mountaineering gloves on.
• Consider doing something else if it’s raining in the valley in December. e.g. sitting by the  fire in the Wasdale Head Inn.

The hardest easy tick ever

Wednesday 30th September to Friday 2nd October 2015

Scotland - Days 14 - 16

We weren't in a rush to get up on the Wednesday after Ben Nevis, and when we did quite a lot of cars had arrived at the car park we'd stopped in. It was surprisingly cold in the morning, and there was a lot of condensation on the inside of George's windows, which is a sure sign of a cold night. We had some porridge for breakfast while we discussed the plans for the day.

We'd been thinking of doing another overnighter on the hill, with either the bivvy bags or the tent, but were a bit concerned about the temperature this morning! I feel the cold at the best of times, and although we have got warm sleeping bags etc, we still felt that we'd probably be cold overnight as it would be even colder higher up!

On top of this, our legs were a bit achey from yesterday's efforts, so we decided not to do anything difficult or cold, and instead we'd try and tick off the easiest Munro nearby. After consulting Google, this seemed to be Mullach nan Coirean which is one of the Mamores near Glen Nevis.

We stocked up on food and diesel at Morrison's in Fort William first. It may sound like we get through an awful lot of food and drink on holiday. Whilst we may be big eaters, the main reason for this is the limited space in George for storing food and drink. We normally have to top up supplies every 2 or 3 days, especially fresh items like bread, or bulky things like wine. Having said that, we have both developed a "food baby" this trip which will have to be dealt with when we get back home, after we have had our end of holiday Dominos Pizza of course.

We eventually set out to tick off our easy Munro at about 1pm. This sounds a bit late, but the walk was only supposed to take 3.5 hours so we had bags of time.

However... I had not paid much attention to the route, leaving it to Claire who is usually much better at that sort of thing than me. But today was the exception. We started off walking up a path that was promisingly signposted "Munro Access". This led to a forest track which dead ended in a load of felled tree debris with tyre tracks over it. We continued, and things gradually became tougher and tougher until we were clambering over felled trees and leaping over gullys, and sometimes both of those things at once. It was at this point that I finally queried the route, and it turned out that we were supposed to be on a nice path on the ridge about 400m above us.

Rather than turning back and trying to find a better way (which would have been far easier in hindsight), we ended up fighting our way across the terrain on a 45 ish degree slope covered in heather, bracken, and very loose tumbling rocks. The sun was blazing and I was sweating so much that it was going in my eyes and I couldn't see.

After an age, we dragged ourselves up onto the ridge at about 600m and had a sandwich and tried to dry off. Claire took her t shirt off and draped it on a rock, whilst I opted to leave mine on and dry it with a combination of body heat and sun. I can report that my method worked far better and that Claire rather grumpily had to put a damp t shirt back on.

Once we were on the right path, we were soon on the summit and admiring the views across the sea on one side and Ben Nevis on the other. I had been carrying extra weight in my rucksack in the form of Chris Bear, who has now bagged his first Munro.

We'd originally thought that we might continue along the ridge and tick off a second Munro, Stob Ban, but a look at the time and the ascent soon put us off. Our calf muscles were protesting after our tough hike up and we didn't fancy another steep ascent or a late finish.

So we returned by the route we should have taken in the first place, which was much easier than our actual route up, but still quite hard going in places as the path was quite eroded. There was also a very boggy section near the bottom of the ridge.

When we finally stumbled back down to George it was about 6.30pm, and we felt absolutely filthy from 2 days worth of serious sweating. We stopped at Linnhe campsite again, made use of the showers and then had a big dinner and collapsed into bed.

On Thursday, Claire's shins were hurting so much that walking was out of the question, so we decided to have a day off going up mountains and go to the beach instead.

The weather was not particularly encouraging first thing, with the campsite being shrouded in mist until about 10am, but we set off towards the coast near Arisaig anyway. It was a shame there weren't any high roads we could have taken, because I'm certain there would have been a spectacular cloud inversion in the valley. As it was, we were just driving through a cloud.

The clouds didn't lift until after we'd parked up, had lunch, and I'd had a power nap. I woke up because it was too hot in the van because of the sun, so we went for a walk on the beach. The beaches here are nice white sand, and the sea comes right up to the top of the beach at high tide so they are lovely and clean.

We didn't see much in the way of wildlife as the tide was well out, and by the time we got back to the van it was almost time for tea! Just how I like it. A man parked up opposite us with a sea kayak on his roof rack, and then proceeded to unpack a dripping wet tent and sleeping bag and drape them over his car and boat. We overheard someone asking him how he'd managed to get his stuff so wet when it hasn't rained for several days, and, caught off guard, he replied that the tide had come in and flooded his tent! I think a little white lie would have been better - if it happened to me then I'd be tempted to say that I was doing an overnight camp in my sea kayak when a sea eagle swooped down and grabbed my tent in its talons and dropped it in the sea. Or something like that.

The following day (Friday), Claire's legs were no better and it was clear that no more hills were to be bagged this trip. We thought we'd do some photography, but the weather was not playing ball so we didn't get many decent photos.

By the time we reached Glencoe at lunchtime, I'd come to the conclusion that it we were just going to sit around reading books in the van then we might as well be sitting round reading books at home, so we made the drive back home and are now sprawled out on the sofa with the heating on.

Despite the leg problems, we have bagged 8 Munros and 3 Trail 100 hills this trip, bringing our tally to 16/282 and 29/100 respectively.

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The Truth About Ben Nevis

Monday 28th and Tuesday 29th September 2015

Scotland - Days 12 & 13

We had a lie in on Monday followed by a nice drive to Fort William where we bought 3 litres of Wyld Wood organic cider, some All Bran, some more junk food, and the official Scottish Mountaineering Club book on The Munros as recommended by Anne. Not all from the same shop I should add.

We then checked in for the night at Linnhe holiday park for the night, had showers, and started on the cider and the Munro book.

The weather forecast was amazing for today (Tuesday), so we decided that today was the day that Ben Nevis was going to be ticked off our lists. You may recall a previous blog from our spring holiday, where we failed to bag Ben Nevis after having to turn back when the Carn Mor Dearg arête looked too risky in the snow. Although there was hardly any snow today, we decided to take the "tourist route" also known as the mountain track. The reasons for this were threefold. We had started a bit later in the day than we would have liked and were a bit concerned about having enough daylight; we needed to do a recce as Claire may be taking a group up that way next year; and I think Claire still thought the arête was a bit risky even without the snow.

Our route started from the visitor centre car park in Glen Nevis - a mere 15 metres above sea level. So only 1,329 metres of ascent to do, and 18 km of walking. On paper, that is nowhere near as hard as the Yorkshire Three Peaks, which is nearly 40 km with about 1,600 metres of ascent.

I soon realised that I'd chosen my clothing for the day poorly - my thickest most durable mountaineering trousers and a thin long sleeved top, as my arms have been cold all holiday. I was boiling within about 10 minutes. The mountain track was not as easy as I expected, as the lower section in particular is in need of repair and was quite rough underfoot. Although it was hot and the sun was out, there were a fair few clouds around and the summit was in and out of cloud when we set off, which we hoped would clear before we got up there.

It was a long hard relentless trudge all the way up, and not a particularly interesting path. We felt dwarfed by the hill towering over us at the start of the route, which I later discovered is about half the height of Ben Nevis! The views were good but did not open up until near the summit and I was starting to wish we hadn't bothered by about 500 metres. It was only the prospect of a dual list tick that spurred me on.

Things got a bit better after lunch (I find that's often the case) as the path improved and we could see more of the mountain, of which there was still a lot of above us. The last few hundred metres of ascent were quite tough, as we were approaching the summit which is capped by loads of ankle turning rocks. The last section was quite barren and I had to keep turning round to look at the view, which was starting to become quite promising and cloud free.

The summit itself is a large plateau containing some ruined buildings, a shelter which we didn't go in as I'd read in Trail magazine that it smells of wee, and an impressive summit cairn with a trig point on top. We took a couple of summit selfies wearing our new CrossFit VUF T Shirts (in order to enter a competition for the best travelled t shirt), and then asked a lady to take some of us from further away. It would have helped if Claire had taken the camera out of selfie mode, but we got there in the end.
After that we put some more layers on as it was quite chilly on the summit, and found ourselves a big flat rock overlooking the most stunning mountain view ever. We must have been on the summit for an hour before we eventually tore ourselves away from the scenery and headed back down.

The route down was just as tough as the route up, maybe more so as my knees are much better at going up than down. We made quite good progress though, and eventually stopped at an altitude of about 300 metres for the second flask of coffee and the last of the food.

We were quite concerned by the amount of people on their way up as we were coming down. A lot of people were not carrying anything (not even a drink) and if they continued to the summit at their current pace would not make it back down (or even up for some of them) until well after nightfall. We hoped that they would have the sense (or be too tired) and turn back before it got too late.
The views as we went down lost their earlier haze and became quite clear, with excellent views across Glen Nevis to the Ring of Steal, which is a horseshoe of mountains involving a multitude of ticks that we are contemplating for our next excursion.

We collapsed back into George soon after 6pm, and found ourselves a free overnight spot on the other side of Ben Nevis. I was pleased to see that in the evening light, Carn Mor Dearg really is a red colour, although so were most of the other hills nearby including Ben Nevis so maybe they should all be called the Red Hill.

We could hear a helicopter flying over towards Ben Nevis, and hoped that it wasn't going out to rescue some of the late ascenders we'd seen earlier.

All in all, we enjoyed our trek up Ben Nevis even though the effort to reward ratio was not favourable until we reached the summit and took in the views. We're glad we've done it though as it was becoming a bit of a bone of contention for us after our previous failure. There's no way I'd want to go up if I didn't think I'd have a view from the top though. Overall, I think it was easier than the Yorkshire Three Peaks. My feet and legs are certainly hurting much less, hardly at all in fact so long as I don't stand up. But it is not for the half hearted. The ascent is relentless and you get no respite until the summit as there are no easy sections or flat bits. But if you're into mountains then it's one that has to be done.

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Some more unpronounceable hills - bagged!

Saturday 26th and Sunday 27th September 2015

Scotland - Days 10 & 11

We were up fairly early on Saturday as we were reaching critical level in the clean clothes stakes, and needed time to do some laundry. As usual, the campsite washing machine wowed me and managed to get our smelly, muddy clothes super clean in just 34 minutes (in contrast with the 3 hours our washer at home takes).

When I was over my excitement about the washing machine, I opened my birthday cards and my present from Claire, which was a necklace made out of a real Alder cone coated with metal. Before you start thinking that's a bit weird, I should tell you that Alder cones are tiny, less than a centimetre long. Not the sort of cones that get sprayed with fake snow and put under Christmas trees.
I have been using my other present from Claire all holiday, which is a waterproof case for my phone, and am told that there are further gifts waiting for me at home.

After that we stocked up on essentials in Ballater and then made our way back to the western side of the national park. We'd thought we might stay longer, but decided to avoid the chaos of the bike race in the east on Sunday.

After a very leisurely drive over, we arrived at Phil and Anne's house in Newtonmore in the evening, ready for a big local walk in the Monadh Liath hills with them on Sunday. We spent the evening drinking wine and eating lasagne and a surprisingly tasty crumble, to which Phil had accidentally added all-spice instead of mixed-spice. We also watched the England v Wales rugby World Cup match, which was surprisingly brutal and entertaining.

On Sunday morning we were up for 6, having breakfast at 7, on the road for 8 and on the hill by 9. We left George at the end point in a car park a couple of miles outside Newtonmore, and all travelled to the start point at the end of a road near a village called Laggan in Phil's car. It seemed like a very long drive to get there, but Phil assured me that it was just because there was no direct road.

Our walk was to take in either 2 or 4 of the Munros of the Monadh Liath, the final tally to be decided after the first two. The area is very wild, with very few paths or tracks into the hills. The ground was rough underfoot, and heavy going on the legs because you couldn't tell what was going to happen to your foot every time you took a step as the ground was a mixture of rocky, boggy and spongey. It took us a while to get onto firmer ground, and even then it was still a way to the first summit of Geal Charn. It was warm enough to have a sandwich on the summit (with an extra jacket on).

We then headed towards Carn Dearg, which was a speck on the horizon. Carn Dearg (pronounced Carn Jerack) means red hill, and there are loads of hills in Scotland with the same name. Three of them are Munros. The one we were heading for was not red, and I can't comment on the rest of them yet.

There was no path, and our route took us across moorland and peat bogs. I wouldn't have wanted to be up there in the mist. The countryside was wild and unspoilt, with views all around across the Highlands despite it being quite hazy. We spotted a fair bit of wildlife on the hillside - several grouse, some frogs, and a very cute little vole that could run faster than me despite being smaller than my hand. There were also several huge herds of deer, which all seemed to want to be on our route, so spent most of their day running away from us, sometimes pausing on the horizon to show off their antlers. I've never seen so many deer, it was like being in a wildlife documentary. Anne commented that they were like armies, which was pretty accurate apart from them running away!

We eventually made it to our second summit sometime around 2-3pm I think. Phil thought that the third and fourth summits would add at least two hours to our day, and we were all in agreement that we probably didn't have enough daylight left. I wasn't sure I had enough energy left either! I spotted a trio of birds soaring round in the sky in the way down, and after watching them for a few minutes we identified them as Golden Eagles.

My feet were aching off as usual by the time we made it back to George at about 6.15pm. We dropped Anne back at home and then took Phil with us in the van to retrieve his car. We we pretty tired, and the car park where we'd left Phil's car was a pretty good spot for an overnight stop, so we parked up, put the roof up and opened a bottle of wine.

The weather forecast is looking promising for the remainder of our trip, so we hope to get a few more hills ticked off before its time to go home.

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Showers and a bit of sunshine

Thursday 24th and Friday 25th September 2015

Scotland - Days 8 & 9

The showers at the campsite in Braemar were so good that I had another one in the morning before we left. We moved George to the main car park in the village and set off up Morrone at about 11.30am. We were so disgusted with ourselves for being so lazy the previous days there was no mention of any delaying tactics or excuses from either of us. We were soon rewarded for our efforts when we saw a red squirrel running along the road in front of us before we even left the town.

The walk up Morrone was quite nice, a bit of a slog but with a fairly easy path. We didn't see a soul on the hill. By the time we were nearing the summit it was absolutely freezing (in fact, it was probably below freezing). I was glad we'd come up as it was a good reminder of how cold it can get on hills, especially Scottish ones in Autumn. Fortunately there is a little hut on the top of Morrone, donated to the mountain rescue association by the family of a man who died of exposure up there, which I can well believe. There was a padlock on the door but it wasn't locked, so we went inside to find what appeared to be some sort of radio control centre! There were electrical boxes labelled Mountain Rescue and Ambulance Service. We were careful not to touch anything, but made the most of the warm little hut to have our lunch in.

The way down was along a wide track down the other side with views across the valley towards the cliffs of Lochnagar. It started to rain on the way back, and we spotted another red squirrel, this time in someone's front garden. We made it back to George before the torrential rain started. While it was raining I checked the weather forecast, and was pleased to find that things were set to improve over the next few days, especially in the East Cairngorms (which is where we are).

We parked up for the night just off the road in Glen Muick, near to the start for the following days walk. It got very windy overnight and we had to put George's pop top down, and I had to put my earplugs in.

The following morning we were up bright and early and were on our way just after 10am. We'd decided to do another of the Trail 100 hills which we'd had views of the previous day - Lochnagar, which is also a Munro. The hill is on the Balmoral estate, so technically it must belong to the Queen.
We got a peek of the cliffs near the summit as we were leaving the car park, and then after a nice walk through some Scots Pine woodland started the gradual ascent.

It was a lovely route, with clear well maintained paths, which is quite unusual for Scotland. The paths were so good that I was able to check my Hill Lists app on my phone, and it was lucky I did because I discovered there was a second Munro up there which we weren't aware of!

We spotted two big stags on the hillside on the way up, and a couple of snow buntings. As we reached level with the bottom of the cliffs the wind really picked up and then it started raining. After yesterday's experience we'd come prepared and were soon layered up and feeling quite warm and snuggly.

The rain didn't come to much, and in what felt like no time we were on the final approach to the summit. The cloud chose that moment to descend, so unfortunately we didn't get much of a view. We got fed up of waiting for the cloud to lift (not to mention a bit cold) so we set off back down after 10 minutes or so.

As the ascent of Lochnagar had seemed so easy, we decided to just nip across and bag the other Munro as it was so near - Carn a'Choire Bhoidheach. Catchy name I know. It was one of those hills that hasn't got a lot going for it really - a fairly nondescript green hump, although to be fair, we did get a nice view from the top, unlike its grand neighbour. That little detour probably only took an extra hour, and we were still feeling pretty fresh as we began the descent. We we surprised to find that it was 3pm when we stopped for a snack on the way down.

The path down was also well maintained, and was very steep in some parts, as it followed a nice gorge with a waterfall. We eventually made it to the loch shore, by which time it was blazing sunshine. The last few miles were along a track, and although it was surrounded by lovely scenery, it was getting a bit tough by that point. My feet were aching, and Claire's feet are like something out of a zombie movie at the moment, so we were both glad to get back to George. The total route today was 25km with 1,100m of ascent so it's no wonder our feet are hurting.

We made a beeline for the campsite at Ballater, and got the last pitch! Apparently it is busy because there is a big bike race on Sunday starting and ending here. We had the nicest curry we've had for a long time in the nearest eatery to the campsite, which turned out to have won several awards for it's curries being the best in the North East. As usual I ate too much and washed it all down with gassy lager, so I'm still suffering the consequences. Claire seems OK, probably because I ate most of her nan bread.

We had an even better campsite shower than the one at Braemar (better squirtyness) and are now slumped in George, charging all our gadgets and degassing.

Tomorrow we are going to have a more relaxed day, hopefully involving lots of pampering and treats as it is my birthday!

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Sloth & Gluttony

Monday 21st to Wednesday 23rd September 2015

Scotland - Days 5 - 7

Sorry about the lack of blogs for the last few days. The reason being that we have been exceptionally lazy and haven't really done anything apart from eat, drink and be lazy.

After mooching round Ullapool on Monday morning, we drove back down to the Cairngorms because the weather forecast was much better there. We then had a mooch round Aviemore before parking up at a favourite overnight spot from our last trip, next to Loch Morlich. The only achievements for the day were purchasing a nice red fleece non itchy hat, a metal hip flask with a Scottish thistle emblem on it and a very expensive miniature bottle of Scottish gin. We didn't feel too bad about our laziness given how busy we'd been at the start of our trip.

Tuesday morning was pretty ropey, with rain and low cloud. Things settled down a bit towards lunchtime so we parked up a Inverdruie and went for a bit of a stroll through the woods and past some lochs. We went past a shack in the woods that we'd seen last time we were here and thought then that it looked like a serial killer's cottage. This year there was a man wearing a forensic suit, shoe covers and latex gloves standing outside. He was leaning on a dynarod van and smiling, but that could have just been a cover.

When we got back to Inverdruie we nipped into the visitor centre to use the toilet. There was a nice shop there so we had a browse round, and came out about half an hour later having spent over £80 on Scottish cheese, crackers, whiskey and more gin, but in a bigger, more cost effective bottle. Prior to this trip we didn't know that Scotland produced much gin (although now I think about it, Gordon's is a rather Scottish sounding name). This gin is called The Botanist, and is made on the Isle of Islay. Claire is raving about it although I'm not too keen and will stick to the Scotch which I am getting quite a taste for.

We decided to drive round to the eastern side of the Cairngorms plateau, as we hadn't been there before, and we thought the weather might be a bit better round there. It took us quite a while to drive there, and by the time we'd settled on an overnight spot it was about 7pm. We had dinner and then opened the spirits and the rest is a blur.

It's not really. We only had a nightcap and then went to bed.

In the morning a camera crew turned up in our layby and started filming the local landowner talking about something (hopefully not those pesky campervanners who keep stopping in his layby overnight). We couldn't hear what it was, but think that George may have been in the background!
We eventually set off with the intention of having a look round Braemar village and then going for a walk up Morrone which is the hill overlooking the village.

Claire bought herself a hip flask and we stocked up on supplies in the Co-Op, and I bought myself a very nice and shiny long handled spoon which is ideal for eating rehydrated camping food straight out of the bag without getting your hand sticky. Perfect for our next bivvy trip when we probably won't be lucky enough to have any food heroes to bring home made chilli along.

After lunch in the van I was exhausted and had a power nap. When I woke up the weather couldn't make up its mind whether to be rainy or sunny, so we checked into the local campsite and had some very nice showers. Much better that the Ullapool campsite showers. It was a bit late to go up the hill after that, so we walked to the pub and had a couple of beers and a big dinner instead. Claire is now suffering from indigestion.

We are determined to get up Morrone tomorrow, rain or shine or both, and then hopefully to do something more ambitious on Friday, when the weather is forecast to improve.

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Anne's Munro Completion

Saturday 19th and Sunday 20th September 2015

Scotland - Day 3 & 4 - Seana Bhraigh - North West Highlands

The weather forecast for today was very promising, with the Mountain Weather Information Service warning that there was a danger of sunburn in the North West, so our overnighter to bag Anne's final Munro was on. We had a nice chicken curry (courtesy of Anne) on the Friday night and a few (but not too many) drinks, and were all up for an early start and breakfast at 6.30am.

Phil and Anne were very impressed by George's speed and acceleration capabilities on the way there, so we arrived at our start point a bit early. We were soon on the way, up a forest track towards the distant (and not visible) summit of Seana Bhraigh. This was to be Anne's final Munro of the 282, which Phil informed us had "only" taken 25 years. As this would only be our 10th Munro, we were still pretty impressed.

The track soon branched off to the left and uphill quite steeply, and then levelled out across some moorland. There was a grey coloured hill in the distance that we thought was Seana Bhraigh. It was only when we got nearer that we realised that we had to take a massive detour around a huge valley with cliffs either side, and that the grey hill we'd spotted earlier was actually the wrong hill.
The route was fairly easy going for the first 10km or so, along a footpath / track, but all of a sudden the path came to an end and the rest of the way was across rough boggy moorland. It got harder when we realised that the direct route we'd taken took us up to the edge of another big cliff, so we had to take a big detour across a swamp to get down.

We came across a good spot for an overnight stop on the other side of the swamp - fairly flat and sheltered with a good view.

We carried on, and were soon on the final ascent to the summit. It later turned out that what I thought was soon, Claire thought was an eternity as she was feeling quite tired after a very long fortnight at work.

We had the summit to ourselves for 10 minutes or so, and after a few summit selfies and congratulations, Phil produced a bottle of champagne from his rucksack! We shared the champagne and had some scones to soak up the alcohol, and eventually set off back down, with Phil's rucksack 750g lighter.

We filled all our water bottles up from a stream on the way down and were at our overnight stop by about 6pm. Anne produced a homemade chilli from her rucksack which had gradually been defrosting during the day. Our contribution to the meal was boiling some water from the stream to make the Smash out of. A worthy contribution you might say from two first time bivvyers, but when we started eating our chilli and mash we couldn't help noticing that it had a slightly bitter flavour. We all ate it anyway, and after a process of elimination realised that we were probably to blame as a bottle of insect repelling spray had leaked at home and must have gone inside our camping stove. On the plus side, the midges steered well clear of us, as they obviously thought we were taking things seriously.

It was going dark by 8pm so we all got into our bivvy bags for the night. Although I'd been feeling pretty tired beforehand, once I was in my bag I didn't feel like sleeping at all. I think I eventually got off to sleep at about 9pm. I wished I'd brought my Kindle.

This would probably be a good time to explain what bivvy bags are. Bivvy is short for bivouac which, according to dictionary.com means "a military encampment made with tents or improvised shelters, usually without shelter or protection from enemy fire".

In real life, for hikers at least, there is no military aspect and certainly no enemy fire to worry about. Bivvying normally involves roughing it a bit more than in a tent, by sleeping in your sleeping bag inside a bag, which is usually waterproof and windproof, unless you are a real cheapskate, in which case it might be water resistant, or possibly just a wheelie bin bag. Ours are made of breathable waterproof and windproof fabric, in a nice olive green colour. Ideal for evading enemy fire and suchlike.

It takes a bit of getting used to, as it is a bit claustrophobic to start with, as you are all zipped in with only a small vent for air. It is also difficult to sleep on your side in the foetal position without tying yourself up in knots in your sleeping bag. If you are on a slight slope then you may be awoken during the night by your girlfriend insisting that you are about to fall off a cliff when in fact you are miles from it. Apart from all that it is very comfortable and relaxing.

Anyway, despite waking up several times in the night, we were all cocooned in our bags for 12 hours before surfacing for breakfast! We we slightly disappointed not to have woken to a cloud inversion, but at least we still had a view across to the hills of Inverpolly.
We had an instant porridge breakfast followed by a scone, and then started retracing our steps back to the car park.

We managed to avoid the big cliff and the swamp on the way back, and came across a herd of deer on the hillside. They ran off at first, but once they realised how slow we were just stood there watching us and looking cute.

The sun finally made an appearance when we were about half way back, which made for some nice views and a warmer sandwich stop. By the time we got back to the car park, my legs were pretty tired. We had a coffee made in George's cafetière whilst Phil and Anne became quite envious of all Georges mod cons. When it started spotting with rain, Phil and Anne headed for home whilst we headed for the metropolis of Ullapool, where we hoped to find a campsite and possibly a pub and evening meal options.

We both had tepid showers at the campsite, faffed around for a bit and then headed to the pub. After a couple of beers we got ourselves some fish and chips and ate them in the van washed down with a bottle of wine.

Although we enjoyed our bivvy last night, we are looking forward to the relative comfort of George tonight. The forecast for the next few days is not great, and Claire has already informed me that she feels really tired and is not up for a big walk tomorrow. I am hoping to fit a run in between shopping for hip flasks and a non itchy hat.

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