Glen Coe In The Snow had a nice ring as a post title, thankfully there was indeed lying snow, albeit from about 500m. Which is almost inevitable, given that it was the second weekend of January. This was, I think, the third time I have stayed in Glen Coe, enjoying a long weekend of walking, scrambling (for some), communal meals and whisky-fuelled banter.
I first walked up this great mountain in 2012. This time it was as part of a long weekend in Glen Coe and around to the north side of Ben Nevis.
Buachaille Etive Mor was ascended by the guys I was with in two ways. Four of us went up a curving ridge (called, I think, the Curved Ridge) and the other two of us (me as part of that) up the path that ascends Coire Na Tulaich.
I had an early new year trip up to Glen Coe with a bunch of mates, a long weekend of walking and socialising in the Scottish hills. Dry January was not on the agenda. I’ve spent some time in Glen Coe before – walking up Buachaille Etive Mor – but that was more of a quick jaunt than a ‘trip’. On other occasions my experience of the glen has been even shorter: at speed, mediated by the windscreen of a car.
When friend Jenny suggested a trip to the Cairngorms, I jumped at the chance.
She had been out with Cairngorm Treks previously and really enjoyed the experience. So she liaised with Simon (Lead Guide and owner) to arrange a trek for a few of us (myself, Jenny, Karl and Taru: challenge walk mates in the guise of ‘Butterley Booters’).
I camped with some friends beside Loch Scavaig on the Isle Of Skye over May Day bank holiday weekend. Under the snow-plastered vertiginous beauty of the Cuillin ridge. Two (wet and windy) nights, with a day between, during which I walked along Loch Coruisk and then up Sgurr Na Stri.
I wiped a tear away as I stood next to the cairn at the top of Suaineabhal. I could blame the wind, it was jacket-wrenching weather. And my tight chest may have been that final trudge up a snow-filled gully. But in fact, (whisper it) emotion was at play.
Suaineabhal / Suainaval is the hill that my dad recalls as a destination for walks during his time on Lewis. And the top of the 429m hill afforded me a view of the croft that newly-wed Mum and Dad had lived in many (many) years ago. The croft where twin and I were made (too much info? sorry).