four - AND five - down, 278 to go!

Wow! You have no idea how much happiness it gives me to write that blog title!! I've dreamed of this moment for a long time now - the moment where I can bag two mountains at once and live to tell the tale!

This has been a long time in coming. My aim of 20 Munros this year has slipped away as the weeks have slipped by. I can't believe it is almost September. It is almost a whole year since I bagged my first - Ben Lomond - and therefore almost a year since I started this blog (12th September!). A year ago I'd have hoped to have conquered more than 5 by now - but that was a year ago. A lot - a lot - has changed in a year. I know there have been opportunities that have not been taken - but there has also been rubbish weather, weddings, lethargy, gentler walks, and all sorts of other things that have come in the way of me and my bagging.

Suffice to say - I am so happy to have FIVE conquered. It is a good number. My next target is 10.

But keeping in the present; I returned from a fabulous - but far too quick - holiday feeling refreshed and energised. Not literally though - having not slept for around 32 hours when I finally got to bed, I was completely exhausted and unable to string a sentence together. But deeper than that - I felt a wave of appreciation for everything I have when I returned home. It is amazing what travel can do for you. Just getting out of that 'bubble', of the day to day frustrations that are so trying, of life. As I've said before - but yet seem unable to remember when times are tough - I am a very fortunate girl and I have so very much to be thankful for.

Plus, I returned with renewed Scottish pride that I always get when I leave the motherland :)

 It's no wonder really.

And as you know, I've been itching to get my Munro count up. Sticking with Steve Fallon's list of 10 Easiest Munros - albeit totally unintentionally this time - Glen Clova was next. Mayar and Driesh were there for the taking.

It had come up in conversation a lot before I went on holiday, with many people mentioning the spectacular scenery, as well as the opportunity to take two mountains out in one go. Ideal.

This also turned out to be first Munro with my mum and dad. This didn't seem the case, but that's probably because we've done a lot of walking together this past year. It couldn't have been more perfect - they provide the food, the maps, the chat - I provide ... eh, my sparkling company?!

Sunday's forecast was strangely good. Not strange for the time of year. Well, maybe slightly strange for a Scottish "summer". But strange because it was sandwiched inbetween two yucky days. But it meant there was no dithering about which day was best - it was Sunday.

Mum and Dad picked me up in Edinburgh before 9am. I had reacquainted myself with porridge (it had been a while but it's still hard to swallow) and was feeling okay despite only 5 hours sleep (late night at the Edinburgh Tattoo, only to be awoken by some charming neighbours at 6.30am). We headed north towards Perth and then east-ish towards Kirriemuir. After passing through the town, we took a scenic drive in the direction of Glen Doll and Glen Clova. I had no idea where I was. This was a totally new part of Scotland for me, and it was beautiful.

We arrived at the Glen Doll car park around 11am, and got ready to go. There were lots of cars in the car park, and lots of people milling around. There were quite a few heading in the same direction as us.

From the car park there was nice walking to be had on good paths, and there were beautiful views on a lovely day.

As we strolled along Jock's Road, we passed a few people, and started to get into a steady rhythm. Soon we were crossing over the White Water, heading up into the trees, and towards some truly incredible views.








And all of a sudden - we stepped out of the woods and into the natural amphitheatre of the Corrie Fee Nature Reserve - and were stunned by what we saw.

The photos just don't do it justice. It was marvellous. It was then a real treat to step into the 'bowl' and head towards the far end of this glacial valley. I was thrilled to be walking amongst the purple heather. For someone who drove through every Scottish season I was always so aware of how special it is when our heather turns purple in August. As a tour guide I was always asked about it, and so I always anticipated its arrival eagerly. I was a little saddened to realise this year it had come without me even realising, without me even remembering. Sure, I'd been abroad for 12 days of the month, but I so missed seeing that change in colour. And therefore at this moment of the walk, I again realised how lucky I am to live in such a spectacular country, and I realised how glad I was that I was here - today. In the bonny blooming heather.

Of course, I also got that typically Scottish reminder that all is not perfect - the midges were out with a vengeance and nibbling away at my - still - peely-wally arms. Hungry midges, itchy walkers.

Soon we were heading up the way, almost alongside the waterfall.

Time for a refill!

The path went up steeply, and there was definitely relief upon reaching the 'top' of that section, a feeling of 'the hardest part is over'. It was tough going, but definitely rewarded by the views back doon the glen:

We then walked along a strangely boggy patch, and this next section was in sharp contrast to what had come before. It was slightly steep at first, until we made it over the top of the false summit. It then almost levelled out and we were left with a torturous slog to the summit. The summit was not in sight for most of this slog, so it was pretty tough going. What a contrast to the very steep incline right to the summit of Meall nan Tarmachan, or the long scramble over the boulder field on Schiehallion, or the....oh wait, that's right, I couldn't see the summit of Ben Lomond.

I got a small burst of energy knowing the top was coming...and a huge smile when I could see it. And then that addictive feeling of elation when reaching the top. Munro number four - Mayar - conquered!!

Mum and Dad about to reach Mayar's summit

We sat down for some food at this point - it was about two hours and 10 minutes since we'd set off, and we were hungry. The sunshine had made us sweat buckets on the way up, but on the summit it was cool, chilly, and breezy. Layers that hadn't even been needed yet were hurriedly put on. I put my gloves on. The rolls that Mum makes for walks are always delicious and these were no different. And Dad provided me with something to sit on - knowing I don't have adequate natural padding perhaps?!

We didn't sit for too long given the chilly wind. It always strikes me as unfair that you can spend so long slogging away to get to the summit, only to spend ten minutes there and head off again. Meall nan Tarmachan would be the slight exception to this for me - well, we actually didn't spend long on its summit, but sat for a while on Meall Garbh, enjoying the tranquillity and lack of cold.

From the summit of Mayar we watched as others made their way towards Driesh. From where we were it looked relatively straightforward, and soon we were on our way. Of course we went down a fair bit - enough that Driesh also counts, whereas Meall Garbh hadn't.

We then reached the bottom of the steep sharp climb up towards Driesh. It hadn't looked so steep from the top of Mayar, and it was a shock to the legs. It was definitely a different sensation - having reached the top you head back down. Now we'd reached the top, headed back down, and were about to head up again. Would our legs and bodies forgive us?

Dad about to begin the climb up to Driesh...

It was a struggle. But thankfully it was a short struggle. After the steep climb up, again there was a levelling out, and it was a lovely relief for the legs to stroll along. Soon we were heading up again but it was more gradual, and we knew the summit was close. There were a number of false summit cairns - just like Schiehallion - but only a few. Soon this was all I could see:

Another excitable pick-up-the-pace amble followed, until I was in that summit cairn and ON IT:

Munro number five - Driesh - conquered!!


I was truly thrilled! Soon the rents were there too and we even managed a sneaky timer picture (it is actually so nice to have a summit to yourself!), although it did require a sore scramble over the cairn.

 Success!!

Again we didn't spend too long at the top, although this time it was nice to have the shelter of the cairn. Cupcakes were eaten and whisky was guzzled. Not by me by the way. Then - almost four hours after we had started - we began the long slow painful walk downhill. This was probably the hardest part, made worse by the fact that it was not a straighforward path down. It was taxing and required concentration - something we were starting to lack after a long walk.

Finally - finally - we reached the edge of the woods, although this did not bring relief from the descent. We were heading down and down and down until our wee toes ached and our muscles turned to jelly. Light relief came in the form of the Burn of Kilbo where mum - surely delirious from the descent - suggested dunking our heads.

And it was lovely!!

Then - more woods and more paths until we finally reached level ground. From there it was a short walk back towards the car park, relief flooding our muscles.

There was an immense feeling of achievement that reached us upon getting to the car. It was over five hours later, but it such a beautiful day to be out and about that we really felt we'd made the best of it. It was a wonderful feeling for me to realise that my Munro count - which has been stuck on 3 for a while now - is not at 4 but at 5. I also know it is not all about the numbers - although the numbers are important. I do look forward to a day where I can say - like the nice blonde lady we met today can say - I've just got about 60 to go. I do look forward to a day where I can say - like the nice blonde lady's companion can say - I've done them all and now I'm doing a few again. I very much doubt I'll be saying the latter part of that sentence - but I really hope I can say the first part.

But I also want to remember each peak as they come. It's not just about the numbers. Each one so far - and yes, there has only been five - has been extremely memorable. For the company, for the weather, for the views, for the feelings. For it all.

And when the going is really tough, I find strength in thinking about my blog. I think about what I will write, and I focus on the title - 'so many down, so many to go'. It gets me through. That was part of the reason it was so hard to have to turn for home on the first attempt at Meall nan Tarmachan - in my head I was already writing my blog post on the sense of achievement. I suppose that makes my tactic punishing when it comes to not achieving my goal, but ultimately it makes my goal more reachable.

I admire my mum's tactic for getting through - reciting Tam O'Shanter, If, and such like in her head.

I am thrilled to have bagged two Munros in one day, and as always, I am keen to bag more. Maybe my goal of 20 by the end of the year is do-able...

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

Shameless plug!

Before I get to blogging about the Munros (yes plural) I bagged this past weekend, I just wanted to post a sneaky wee post about a new blog I started today.

Dread nought dear blog reader, I remain as faithful to my Anxious Ambler blog as ever. But this blog is about another love of mine - spelling!!

You can find it here:

www.mondaytoothjuly.blogspot.co.uk

I hope you like it - and all feedback is greatly appreciated.

AA xx

Anxious Ambler on holiday!

Wow, I really have neglected my blog recently. This has been constantly niggling away at me, and - as always - I've been meaning to do something about it.

Things have been so busy, and there hasn't been time to blog, or to get walks in. Come September, I'm determined to get out and about more and to take my Munro count from 3 to...more than 3. Glen Clova I have my eye on you...

In the meantime, it is time for the Anxious Ambler to get some time away. I had a brief few days in Hopeman, one of my favourite places to go. Such great childhood holidays and memories, and it is always so nice to go back and breathe in that fresh Moray Firth air. There was even some nice coastal walking to be done.

But the big holiday of the year begins on Thursday. I'm heading to North Carolina, my favourite state, for a good friend's wedding. It will be hot, and I will be sweating. There will be wedding festivities, reuniting, and much happiness.

Upon my return I endeavour to be a better blogger and a better blogging-bagger...