(Very) Early Season Ski-ing

Well, I really wasn't expecting to get my cross country skis out already. A day of heavy snow showers with the snow sticking even in Inverness meant that I just had to chance it up at Abriachen. Although the forest tracks are only about 250m-300m in altitude the place seems to be a real snow trap. It is only 15min from the middle of Inverness and has been a favourite place of mine for ski-ing, running and biking for a while now. It seems to be more often ski-able compared to other places like Farr or Daviot Woods.



So yesterday morning (Wednesday) I got up early and skied for over an hour on perfect snow (well for Scotland that is) and I felt very satisfied, although pretty sore, sitting back at my desk watching the snow melt.

Making waves on the XC scene

It has been nearly a month since I last blogged and what a wet and windy month its been. After having got long 'challenges' out of my system for the time being, my focus has been on the cross country season and the training for that has been short. That, together with having a fairly hectic work schedule in Shetland and Orkney, have made sure that weekends at home have been spent recuperating rather than being out for hours in the hills.

One great day out recently was a circuit of Binnein Shuas and Binnein Shios. These two peaks sandwiched between Creag Meaggaidh and Beinn a'Chlachair are very rocky and are well placed for panoramic views of the surrounding higher hills. The weather was cool but dry and stags could be heard in the high corries of the Munros opposite. Small slabby crags gave some interesting scrambling on the broad ridge. After descending very steep slopes and gullies from Shuas we slogged up wet ground up the next hill at an easy gradient. From the summit of Shios, we dropped down north to the wooded shores of Loch Laggan for the journey back to the car. Rather than the dreary plantation we feared, it was a fantastic contrast to the rocky hillsides of the peaks above. Some of the trees were huge and for much of the way deer tracks could be followed.

Changing from long steady runs to the faster paced efforts of cross country (hence the awful pun in the title!) has been pretty tough. My track sessions have not been made easier by the almost constant wind and rain. Still, I managed to support the Highland Hillrunners senior males to the clubs first ever District Relay Championship. Running 4km flat out nearly killed me (at an average of 183 beats per minute), but I did enjoy myself a lot more than I expected to. The Inverness Harriers (local rivals) were a bit upset at how things panned out and the local press decided to ignore the results as best they could. So with a win in my first ever XC race things can only go downhill from here!

So since then it has been blustery runs in the Northern Isles. Trying to train whilst watching waves crash against the cliffs a couple of meters away is a bit distracting. I shouldn't complain about going to places like North Ronaldsay and Foula for work, but I will be glad when I can get back into a regular training regime.

Glencoe - Allt na Muidhe watershed

With a fine mid week forecast and a left-over bank holiday a mid-week bagging trip seemed a good idea. At the north end of Glencoe is the hidden Munro of Sgor na h'Ulaidh. Not content with such a small bag we decided to make a round of the watershed, so 2 Corbetts of Beinn Maol Chaluim and Meall Lighiche together with the Graham of Meall Mor were added to the route.

A small parking space off the A82 near Achnacon just opposite a stile made an ideal start point for the run up Fionn Ghleann to the first hill. It was surprisingly chilly and the first run for a while where I was glad of hat and gloves. We picked up sheep trods high up on the sides of the glen and made rapid progress to the summit. From Beinn Maol Chalium we backtracked and then traversed back south on a fantastic trod to the bealach beneath Creag Dubh. A couple of steeper rock bands interspersed with grass on a ridge led first to the Munro Top and finally to the Munro of Sgor na h'Ulaidh. The route coming off, following the fence in a north-westerly direction, had a sting in the tail when a wet, slabby area required some delicate scrambling before we got back to less steep ground again. Down in the bealach we came across an old gate leading from nowhere to nowhere. Along much of the route we followed old fence lines, marked now with the bare iron stanchions, the wire having long since rusted away. The effort and cost of erecting such a fence must have been huge.

The rest of the route up and over the broad summits of Meall Lighiche and Meall Mor was nicely runnable and even the final drop straight back down to the A82 was pleasant. Although only 10 miles, much of the ground was rough and steep almost completely lacking in paths with fantastic views both of Glencoe and the surrounding hills.

As always the weather was not to last and a very mixed day weather-wise on Sunday lead to the last of my Munros on Skye (Sgurr Dubh Mor and Sgurr nan Eag) bagged. The scrambling on the ridge was easier than anticipated and this time round we made it into the Corrie with ease. Just follow the highest path (not well-cairned despite what the SMC book says) on your left and scramble up left of the left-most of the three streams. Easy really ; o) Only 14 Munros left for my boss who was really happy to have finally got the ridged completed. Rum looked impressive under the leaden skies and despite the heavy showers it was another long, enjoyable day out.

Trying to get fit again

It seems ages since I last posted and it is probably because the weather has been so bad. There really isn't much to write about when all one has done is another run in the wind and rain. And the photos don't exactly inspire either! Saying that I have finally been getting the motivation to get going and start beasting myself again. No more long runs needed now so I have been concentrating on doing relatively fast paced efforts of up the 3hs maximum. As a result I have rediscovered muscles I had forgotten about and I am getting used to the effort required to run up hills properly.

Even with the weather I have had some fantastic runs all over the place including a trip to the Breacons in Wales and a chance encounter with the famously smelly feral goats of White Comb in the Borders.

The race I was training for, the Lake District Mountain Trial, was cancelled due to bad weather, but it looks like I might be racing the OMM Elite instead. Last year I didn't train at a hard enough pace and I paid for it, so this year I am going to keep the runs short, but go at them hard. I know I can plod for hours at a time so with a bit more strength and speed we might do a bit better than the 25th-ish place last year. My partner has learnt to navigate too so that should be a bonus. The only problem is that it is in the Lakes and apart from my Bob runs and the odd uni climbing trip I don't know the area at all well.

So my schedule at the moment is Monday and Fridays swimming or core work, Tuesday undulating trail aiming to do 10kmish in under 1hr, Wednesday steady bike with hills 1-1.5hs, Thursday hard intervals or hills. Weekends are for hill runs over round ground keeping them to a max of 3hs and trying quite hard.

In Defence of Marylin Bagging - Breac-Bheinn

'There are no boring hills, just boring people' is a saying I love trotting out when my more Munro-obsessed friends and acquaintances mock me during the obligatory 'How many Munros did you bag?' questions on Monday mornings. This is in response to the withering looks I get when I admit to having run up esoteric delights such as the Hill of the Whangie. Often the views from the 'connoisseurs' hill are just as, if not more, spectacular and interesting than those enjoyed by their bigger neighbours. Breac-Bheinn at in Strathcarron is one such hill.

Strathcarron is probably one of the most unfortunate glens in Scotland, being owned by some of the most dubious characters that have ever had pretensions to be lairds. Those responsible for the brutal clearances, poignantly remembered in the etched graffiti in Croick Church, have been followed by numerous other unfriendly absentee owners of which the latest incarnation is Mr Lister. His 'Wilderness' was once the home of hundreds of people and his plans to exclude access, with a 30 mile 3m high electric fence, goes against centuries of access rights. The development of a Safari park is not a 're-wilding' and surely if Mr Lister was so concerned about returning the Highlands to a previous state, he would encourage people to move back into 'his' reserve. Thousands of years of human interference and interaction make the idea of creating a true Wilderness in the Highlands idiotic. The constant flux in the environment was brought home to me on another recent hill run I came across an area of deeply eroded peat. Exposed stumps and trunks of ancient trees a testament to the changing climatic conditions.

Breac-Bheinn is a suitable distance away from the Alladale Estate and the steady plod up heather made the views from the flat summit even more surprising. The views north and west were breathtaking. The Inselberge of the North-West coast rose prominently in the distance, made even more stark by the miles of conifer-planted wide strath that stretched out far to the horizon.

Admittedly the second hill of the day, Meall Dheirgidh, wasn't blessed with such views, but the short 2h jog was still comparable to any number of 'proper' hill days.

Another advantage of the lower hills is the lack of paths, cairns and, although it is elitist to say it, lack of people. All this makes the Marylin day much more of an adventure and a challenge. Of all the days out this year on the smaller hills I can count the number of other walkers or runners on both hands.

Worryingly those who I have met on these hills have more of the train-spotter about them than your 'normal' hill-goer. Sometimes, I suppose, the truth hurts and I can take solace in is the fact that with only two trains lines, Inverness Station has so little to tick that I can't think that I am in danger of changing sport, yet...

A wet Cullin weekend

I am still not running as my foot is still quite sore. It is probably time to get it sorted out now that I don't have any key runs to do this year. Flat walks are fine but as soon as it gets rocky it tends to hurt even with walking boots. So going across to the Cullin to help my boss bag his Munros wasn't the best of ideas, but I felt it wouldn't be too bad for my foot.

Saturday was spent watching the rain in the car park in Glen Brittle until lunchtime when we decided to chance an attempt on Sgurr Na Eag. It didn't go well. Cloud was down to 100m and the burns were so high that we had to try and traverse round from higher up Corrie Laggan at the 400m contour, rather than follow the well made path. All the crossing points I have used in the past were several feet under water. The velocity of the water tumbling over the rocks was spectacularly violent. A doubt remained in my mind that even if we did cross would we be able to cross back if the rain continued?

There was a constant noise of water rising out of the mist. The weather was so thick that we couldn't see much more than 50m and we followed a bearing through rocks and deep grass around flanks of Sron na Ciche. Finally, we hit the path again which climbed steeply up Coir ' a Ghrunnda.

Following intermittent cairns over blocks of gabbro we reached an impasse. Above, polished slabs streamed water and the route seemed to zig-zag up next to a burn which cascaded over a rocky lip. I tried the slabs, but I was uncertain of whether we were on the right route and our ability to down climb on the smooth holds. The thick clouds clung to the rocks, withholding any views and distorting any sense of scale. Intimidated by the atmosphere and demoralised by the weather I suggested that we turn tail and head for the pub.

As soon as we began to drop down the path, the rain eased and the mists began to part. The doubts that always come on after having made a decision to retreat lingered. At the car, changed into dry clothes, it all seemed so easy when looking at the map for the umpteenth time.

Sunday, with an early start helped by the voracious midges in the Sligachan campsite, we headed up to An Dorus from the Youth Hostel to bag Sgurr a Mhadaidh and Sgurr a Ghreadaidh. I packed the rope just in case in deference to the guidebook description. For the first hour the showers came and went, but we had views into the Corrie so at least we knew where to go this time. Steadily the mists rose up from Glen Brittle obliterating the views and the showers turned torrential. We dragged ourselves up to the ridge over blocks and scree slopes with rain drumming so hard on our waterproofs that we couldn't hear each other talk. There was water everywhere and every runnel scoring the black cliffs above streamed white foam.

Out of An Dorus, a deep notch in the ridge, there are a couple of steep, polished moves out of the gap to either Munro. Both walls didn't really require protection and the holds were good. The rocks were tricky in the wet and thankfully for the most part well defined paths could be followed above. Small cairns decorated the tops which we reached more with relief than jubilation. Showers gave way, but the clag was omnipresent and as result it was not the most enjoyable day on the hills. Finally we descended out of the showers and the mist back to the glen. Just as wet but slightly more satisfied than the day before.

Both days were about 4.5hs which is about the time I am trying to limit any exercise to in an attempt to make sure I don't over do it.

Morning Glory

I took this picture this morning from Beinn na Feusaige after spending the night camped up by Lochan Meallan Mhic Iamhair. Moments like this make all those days in the clag worthwhile.

Off to work now in cloudy Inverness, but somehow after being privileged enough to see a sky like that I don't mind at all.