Sunday 27 May 2012

Good days

Well, again it has been a while since I was last here. Which does disappoint me, but at the same time, the less time I have to blog generally means the less time I have to focus on my anxiety. This is one of the few places I like coming to when things are tough. Writing makes me feel better, it lets me get everything out, and I feel much better for doing so. I'm so proud of my blog.

That being said, I haven't had much opportunity to come here and make myself feel happy. And that is because - eureka moment coming up - I am much happier!

And no, I still haven't bagged another Munro but as always, I hope there is one awaiting around the corner....or maybe even more than one.

In the meantime, the weather has been fantastic, work has been a joy, and there is much to be glad and thankful about.


Monday 7 May 2012

three down, 280 to go!

I've had Munro fever pretty bad recently; I can't believe it was January when Schiehallion was conquered, and February when Meall nan Tarmachan was attempted. Since then there's been walks, but not a Munro in sight what.so.ever.

By Friday I had ants in my pants, and with a three day weekend coming up, I just knew I had to get myself three thousand feet up. I floated the idea to Dave on Friday night, and he wasn't overly keen. We agreed to 'see what the morning brought'...

Imagine my excitement when I woke up to hear these magic words: "Maybe we should try Meall nan Tarmachan today after all..." Rarely do I leap out of bed so fast.

But Meall nan Tarmachan was...well, personal. As you'll know from my first attempt faithful ambler-follower, it was totally gutting to put in a solid two hours of effort only to have to turn back again without conquering the summit. It didn't sit well with me - although of course we made the right decision - and I wanted to right this wrong. I wanted to conquer this specific Munro right now.

It was nice to have the whole day in front of us, with no worries about darkness descending. We left Edinburgh around 11.30, and it was a good thing we weren't in a rush - the May Bank Holiday weekend brought out absolutely everybody with a towing caravan. We weaved our way towards the Highlands at 25mph in a line of over 30 cars...plenty of time to look at the scenery at least. I breathed many sighs of relief (and frustration, don't get me wrong, but mostly relief) that I wasn't trying to get to Loch Ness, or up to Portree in a day, or anywhere really. We saw that special breed of tourist - the one that stops at Glen Ogle to take pictures of the railway bridge - oh no, hold on a minute, he's got his back to the railway bridge and is taking pictures of his hire car.....that kind of tourist. Gah.

But soon enough we were turning right to Killin, the lure of my ancestral home so strong. Past Killin we arrived at the carpark underneath Ben Lawers and there was at least forty other cars there - a far cry from the other two that day in February.

We set off around 1.30pm, and walked up familiar territory. Familiar, but different of course - this time there was no snow or ice, and our progress was much faster. I tried to learn to walk efficiently with my walking poles but I just got frustrated - I didn't think walking like this could be so difficult! I persevered for a while, and then got so fed up, I gave one to Dave - and actually we found we both quite enjoyed having a pole each.

Things looked slightly different:

February 1st

May 5th
In just over an hour we had reached the minor summit of Meall nan Tarmachan, which had taken almost two hours to get to last time. Just that vertical climby bit to go then....As we looked at the task ahead of us, the 'unchartered territory', there were mixed feelings - even more feelings of relief that we hadn't attempted it in the snow, feelings of apprehension over just how difficult it was going to be, and feelings of energy that just over that vertical climb was....The Summit.

Again, to give you a comparison of what 3 months can do:



This photo won't capture the steepness of what we faced, but it was like looking up a wall of rock:


And then we were off, scrambling like mountain goats. Parts of it reminded me of the steps of rock going up Arthurs Seat. We stopped once or twice but powered up pretty quickly, sweating, and wishing it was over. And soon it was. Our Everest was short-lived, and soon we were heading across the mountain, tantalisingly close to the summit.

A short burst of energy - the summit was ahead of us - a wee Saltire fluttered in the breeze - I made a run for it - and then - Munro number three - conquered!!
















There was a feeling of sheer joy to reach the summit of Meall nan Tarmachan. The views were tremendous, we had it to ourselves, there was a Scotland flag at the top...I was just thrilled. And as each Munro has been and will be different, this one very much felt like 'Mine and Dave's'. And that was a good feeling.

We weren't at the summit for long...not long enough given it had taken three months to get there. But there were other Munros to be had...or so we thought. We could see from our map that the summit of Meall Garbh was nearby, and that it too was over 3000 feet. From where we stood, it looked like this:


Meall Garbh is the pointed peak on the left hand side, part of the Tarmachan Ridge. The landscape up there reminded me very much of the Faerie Glen on Skye...slightly ethereal, slighty different. There were tiny lochans, as if the faeries themselves had moulded these mountains. There were four or five other people up there (all the other cars must have been Ben Lawer-ers) and it was simply stunning. So we made our way to the top of Meall Garbh, with the attitude 'may as well conquer another Munro whilst we're here'.

It was incredible up there. Not a breath of wind, yet a flurry of snow. We ate our lunch, and felt very appreciative.






















It got a bit chilly after we'd sat for a bit, so we began our descent. Just as we started to go, up popped two girls on the Ridge, carrying their bikes...it was the maddest thing I'd seen up a Munro yet.

The descent was, as always, painful - although having the poles did help. There was a bit of scrambling and leaping over boggy bits to be done, but then we reached a main path. Finally, some relief for the feet, and we walked about a mile and a half to two miles back towards the car park. Four hours after we'd started, we were back, tired but elated.

I really thought I had doubled my Munro count, and was ready to tell anybody and everybody that I'd now conquered four Munros. Imagine the crushing sense of disappointment when, later that evening, I did some research and discovered - as I'm sure you Munro-experts will already know - that Meall Garbh is not, in fact, a Munro but a 'Top'. So although it is over 3000feet, it is not considered a Munro and indeed, Meall nan Tarmachan is the only Munro on the Tarmachan Ridge (thank god we didn't try to 'bag' the rest of the Ridge thinking we were eating up Munros like a chomping Pacman).

So my Munro count is 'back' to 3 - there was a sense that I'd 'lost' one, but in the - painful - days that have followed, I've been able to enjoy the achievement of Meall nan Tarmachan, and the achievement of finally finally bagging this elusive and challenging mountain.

But Munro Number Four - you better be ready, cos I'm coming for you....