One of the interesting dynamics of going anywhere with a
large group is the way that complete inertia can take over if you are not
careful . Clearly we weren’t careful.
After a decadent night of eating and drinking....and
eating....and eating.... it was never going to be a “OMG it’s early” kind of a
start and, coupled with inertia’s deadly twin, “faff”, it meant that it was
nearly lunchtime before we set off and some of us were not equipped for winter
mountaineering anyway. Now, I’ve never pretended to be an intrepid mountaineer
but this was bordering on couch potato behaviour.
This only gave us time to tackle a little lump of a Corbett called
Beinn a Chrulaiste conveniently situated behind the Kingshouse Hotel which we
did as a “point to point” walk from the foot of the Devils staircase to the
Kingshouse hotel giving us a grand total of 2046ft accumulative ascent. The
path wasn’t particularly boggy or rocky although Andy seemed to be able to
locate any bog on the hillside and disappear thigh deep into it.
Hill fog had been forecast but the swirling mists and clouds
were high enough to offer us some spectacular views down into Glencoe and the
black rock of the Bhuachaille Etive Mor streaked with white snow against a pale
misty sky gave it a majestic presence. The Himalayas don’t have the sole claim
to awe inspiring views! It’s that tricky time of the year for deciding what to
wear when out on the hills, whether walking or running.
With lots of snow high up its always tempting
to go out dressed as though you are about to tackle an ascent of Everest so
having succumbed to temptation then it was only inevitable that I would be
peeling layers off within a few hundred feet of climbing. The sun was giving
out some warmth and it felt spring like although the snowy tops and far off
dark clouds served as a reminder that winter could yet return to Glencoe with
late snows.
Although a seemingly insignificant little hill when compared
to its brothers and sisters close by the great thing about Beinn a Chrulaiste is
its location at the entrance to Glencoe giving views of not only the mountains
of Glencoe and Lochaber but also of mountains as far away as Schiehallion in
Perthshire and of the flat expanse of Rannoch Moor with its pools and lochans
sparkling vivid blue in the sunlight. Although I was disappointed not have been
able to make an attempt on some bigger hills maybe sometimes its a mistake to
ignore what some of the smaller hills have to offer in favour of always
searching for a bigger challenge.
After a quick drink in the cosy snug of the Kingshouse Hotel
and a few minutes making friends with the tame deer outside it was back to the
cottage and time to get ready for the obligatory run around the hospital
lochan. Andy, Lisa and I set off in the half light of dusk into the woods. It
was a still evening and the waters of the lochan were like a sheet of glass
with the trees and mountains reflected in it.
By the time we returned to the cottage, Bill and Louise had
arrived. “Inertia” and “faff” are not two words that you would associate with
those two and true to form they had spent the day exploring high summits behind
the ski centre. Bill and Louise joined us for a quick bite to eat at the
Clachaig inn but for some strange reason we didn’t stay really long enough to
take in the atmosphere or listen to any of the live music.
The following morning again wasn’t an early start apart
from, needless to say, Bill and Louise who took off on an expedition to bag
some far flung Corbett in the valley behind Ballachullish. The rest of the
group drifted back their separate ways.
It was lovely to go back to the cottage in Glencoe. Every
time I go I wonder why I don’t go back more often and visit this wonderful
place. A lovely fire in a wood burning stove is just the right thing to come
back to after a day on the hills.
