nineteen AND twenty down, 262 to go!

Hooray! Another two Munros under my belt! I had desperately hoped that I might get my Munro count to 20 by the end of 2013, but with so much going on, and winter upon us, it was looking less and less likely that this would be realistic.

However when we were out in the Pentlands a few weeks ago, I mentioned my hopes to Alun (outdoor extraordinaire) and a plan began to form.

The date was decided - the first of December. I didn't want to get my hopes up, just in case it didn't happen due to the weather or anything else. As it got closer to the weekend, Alun kept an eye on the forecast, and Sunday wasn't looking too bad. We discussed a couple of Munro options (I really wanted a double-bag to get the count to 20) and decided on a pair near Bridge of Orchy that I'd never heard of - but driven past many a time!

We planned to meet at Hillend at 6.30am on Sunday morning. Since I moved to the Borders I have been waking up an hour and twenty minutes earlier during the week than I would've in Edinburgh, and of course getting home much later. I live for my weekend lie-ins, so the thought of setting my alarm for 5.30am on a Sunday morning was....difficult.

However, I knew it would be well worth it - and I tried to keep telling myself that when my alarm went off so early. I managed to drag myself out of bed and get ready to go, leaving the house just after 6am. I met Alun at Hillend just after 6.30am, and bleary-eyed, we set off towards the M9.

As the sun was coming up, there were some stunning skies to be seen, and the day was looking quite clear and sunny. As always it was a lovely drive north and it didn't seem too long until we had reached Bridge of Orchy. We kept going until we reached the turning for Achaladair Farm.

By the time the boots were on and we were setting off, it was 8.45am. It looked like it was shaping up to be a beautiful day - the skies were blue and the air was crisp.

 

Our walk towards the railway line was pretty boggy, and it was a fairly tough start to the morning. I was apprehensive about my fitness - or lack of it - as it had been a while since my last Munro-bagging adventure. The intent was there, and I just hoped my legs would follow!

Soon we crossed a bridge over the West Highland Line, and started to head upwards. At that point it was clear where we were heading, although it would take a while for my brain to fully engage with Beinn Achaladair. There was a fair bit of a trudging, and the ground was very wet underfoot. The sun was beating down, and there really wasn't a breath of wind so it felt...warm. Soon we were having to shed layers, and I was feeling uncomfortable and sweaty! Alun encouraged a more steady pace which was good for me, and we took regular recovery breaks!

 

One of the most memorable moments of the ascent was the moment a herd of deer passed right in front of us. Off uphill they went, making it look easy.

 

We reached the bealach between Beinn Achaladair and Beinn an Dothaidh, the sun so bright ahead of us and the views tremendous. What a day this was turning out to be. Apart from two walkers we could see in the distance on Beinn an Dothaidh, there was no one else around - just mountains, peace and quiet, sunshine and stunning views.

 

teeny figures on Beinn an Dothaidh!

We took a wee breather here, and I was comfortable in the knowledge that the summit of Beinn Achaladair was just slightly further along the ridge. I felt my pace quickening when we began walking again; I had kicked into the 'I'm almost there' mentality. It's a familiar feeling, yet I still haven't learnt that it is usually far too premature...

It didn't help that the cloud had started to descend on us, and we couldn't see much ahead. Perhaps if I could have I would've realised that the cairn we came to was not the summit cairn. Not the summit, not by a long shot!

Looking back the sun and the clouds were doing magical things. Looking forward there wasn't much to see. I was suffering from my premature excitement of bagging the first Munro of the day. I now felt shattered, and I didn't actually know what was ahead. The heat from the sun and the ascent had taken its toll.

 

Finally the cloud shifted enough to see the summit, and finally, Munro number 19 - Beinn Achaladair - was conquered!!

 

The views from the summit were absolutely tremendous! I couldn't believe my luck. This was the type of Munro day I've been hoping for for a long time. I got my first ever cloud inversion, and was just blown away by the beauty surrounding me. As always, the effort was so worth it.

 

 

The clouds continued to move and all of a sudden I turned to look south, along Loch Tulla, and a bizarre jet-shaped object appeared above the cloud! My first thought was that it was a jet, but as my eyes adjusted I realised it wasn't moving. But it didn't look like a peak that Alun recognised, and we couldn't figure out what it was! Most bizarre!

After some photos and as much soaking up of the views as possible, we started to make a move towards the second Munro of the day. It was now just after 1pm, and it felt like we were doing well for time.

Beinn a' Chreachain appeared sporadically between the movements of the clouds. It didn't look too far, I thought.

Yet again I was in for a shock! I must learn not to look too far ahead. To take in the here and now. To live in the moment. To not get too ahead of myself. How do I learn that?

Perhaps Munro-bagging could help me! It's so exhausting to anticipate the summit way in advance of getting there. To mentally and physically think I am close to the summit when I am not. I need to be more rational and realistic in my approach.

We faced a sharp descent, and a wee skid across the first real snow of the day. The descent was challenging, and my knees felt sore. It was of course demoralising to descend so far and face the next ascent of the day. It has been true of all the double-bags that I have done that the second ascent is so tough going. My legs have had enough and I really question whether I can do it.

But I thrive on this question. Or, to be more accurate, I thrive on the answer. Because on the second ascent I really don't believe I have it in me to get to the top. My legs scream 'STOP!'. My inner critic tells me I am not fit enough, what on earth do I think I'm doing, I'm not able, I can't do this.

With each step I pound away at that inner critic. I can, I can, I CAN do it. I will do it. I have to, I've come too far to go back. There's no going back. The only way is UP.

And bizarrely, as all of this goes through my head, I do get closer and closer to the second summit.

 

Beinn a'Chreachain was extremely challenging. Finally, finally, around 2pm on the first of December, I made it to the summit. My 20th Munro, Beinn a'Chreachain - conquered!

 

 

Unfortunately the great views we'd enjoyed on Beinn Achaladair were long gone, and we were now in the middle of a cloud. It was freezing. It was the first time all day that it felt like December. The longer we stayed on the summit of Beinn a'Chreachain, the more apparent it became that we were actually in the middle of a cloud. A donut-shaped cloud. Blue sky started to appear above us, and above the circle of cloud that had formed around us.

Stepping to the side of the summit cairn, Alun spotted a bizarre phenomenon in the cloud. With the sun behind us, and the cloud below us, it seemed as though a small ringed rainbow had appeared in front of us. Alun guessed it was a brocken spectre - what a moment!

It didn't photograph very well, but it was incredible.

Leaving the summit, I put my jacket on for the first time that day. It really felt chilly in the cloud. I would have struggled with navigation at this point, so was very glad that Alun was leading the way!

We picked our way alongside a ridge of snow, then began to descend towards the atmospheric sight of Lochan a'Chreachain. It looked so dark and uninviting!

 

The descent over the soft, wet tussocks of grass was really tough going at this point of the day. My knees and ankles were sore, and my feet were starting to complain too. However the scenery was truly spectacular. We soon reached the water's edge, and took another breather.

 

It seemed, from here, that the rest of the descent back to the car would be relatively straightforward. How wrong I was. We plodded between a cascading stream and a plantation forest - it was slippy underfoot and care was taken with each step. This is a very tiring way of walking, as you are concentrating very hard on where you put your feet all the time.

 

 

We eventually reached the railway line, and passed underneath it this time. This brought memories back of crossing under the West Highland Line when walking between Inverarnan and Crianlarich back in March - a bit of a tight squeeze!

The rest of the walk, between this point (around 3.30pm) and getting back to the car (around 5.15pm) was really tough. I can't lie - I found it to be a real struggle. My legs, hips, ankles and feet had all had enough, and my brain kept underestimating how far there still was to go. Once again, mentally and physically I didn't feel strong enough to carry on - but of course there was no choice!

It was a case of putting one foot in front of another, carefully, and carrying on. Keep upright and carry on.

It seemed like an age before we reached the proper farm track, and the A82 was now nearby. Finally a good track to plod along to the finish. Darkness had also descended, and our headtorches proved to be very useful.

I was so relieved to finally reach Alun's car. The day had been 8 and a half hours long and extremely tough. It had also been a fantastic day! The views were tremendous, and the challenge rewarding!

After a food stop in Callander, Alun dropped me off at my car at Hillend around 8pm, and I was home just after 8.30pm. I was completely shattered, although delighted to have conquered another two of Scotland's majestic Munros.

Unsurprisingly, the next few days were a real struggle. My whole body ached, but my quads in particular were agony. Stairs proved to be a real difficulty, as did stepping on or off pavements! By Wednesday morning I felt slightly better, but by Wednesday night I had a sore throat and the beginnings of a head cold. I think I had overdone it slightly, and my body needed a rest.

It took a day or two to recover, not being helped by the fact we had no power for around 15 hours after the great storm of the 5th of December. The headtorch came in very handy for the second time in four days!

I'm thrilled to have reached 20 Munros! These last two certainly wouldn't have been possible without Alun, so thank you so much for a fantastic day out.