I’d been looking forward to the Glen Lochay and Lyon hills, as these were to be the first new hills of the trip so far. I’d eagerly anticipated the views that I’d get from them off to the surrounding hills already climbed and those further north still to come.
As it turned out I saw nothing of either. The weather seemed to follow a similar pattern each day. I’d attempt to get an early start only to be confronted with low cloud, a persistent wind and more often than not rain, which had the uncanny knack of clearing as I was descending for the day …
The windscreen wipers were working hard on the way up Glen Lochay to the road end. Mucking about getting my gear sorted seem to take for ever, reflecting my reluctance to get a soaking. Then the intensity of the rain slackened off slightly and I took this as my cue to get out and away.
I cycled in the few km’s to the foot of Beinn Heasgarnich, whose bulk could only be felt, the cloud was so low. In fact from the moment I left the bike it was map and compass the whole way to the top. I was actually quite pleased with myself for not getting lost, especially as I’d seen no sign at all of any form of path.
The rain came on stronger than ever as I made my way down and over to Creag Mhor, the next Munro on the day’s list. By the time I got to the top I was soaked through, and I’d lost my appetite for Ben Challum. It was as long a stretch over to Challum from where I was, and I’d had enough of a soaking for one day. The lure of a big steaming cup of tea in the shelter of the van proved too much! That and the fact my boxers were wet.
I got back to the van, put the heater on and lay everything out to dry. Oh dear the windows seem to have misted up. I had foreseen days like this before the trip started!
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