|
Snow has come
to Glasgow! I could have gone for higher, further away mountains than
the Campsie Fells, but with snow so rare here, what would be cooler than
spending time on the Campsies? During the spring and summer, I had worked out some steeper
routes on Slackdhu's SE face and reckoned I could try some of them in the snow.
Eager to be on these hills in conditions that are all too rare, I set
off from Blanefield and headed out onto Slackdhu's slopes. The cows and
highland cattle, all 20 or 30 of them were my first problem. I never
know what to make of these creatures, having had a couple of close
encounters with them. I never know when or why they get aggressive, but
it would help for me to learn. Once past them, I could focus on the task of
finding a route up Slackdhu. The cloud was low and it could be hard to find the break in the
cliffs in the bad visibility. The great thing though was being able to
walk in full-on winter conditions from the outset.
Then the mists that had concealed Slackdhu thinned then lifted
completely. On the higher slopes, the sun even peaked around the edge of
the clouds. Only this pocket of hillside seemed to exist in sunlight
while the
rest of the hills were shrouded in mist. I seemed unusually lucky to
have found such conditions.
On the steeper slopes near the summit, I'd brought out the axes and
crampons and got into that motion of punching my way up the hillside,
digging in with each axe or kicking in with crampons. It was great fun -
there's nothing else like being on remarkably steep ground but feeling
completely attached to the mountain. This route become remarkably steep,
but I felt like I could have tripped
and not gone cart wheeling down the hillside.
I arrived at the summit a happy person, although the summit felt like
the least significant part of this walk. Then I realised if I really
rushed down to Blanefield, I could catch the bus. The buses pass through
at the disappointing rate of one an hour, so it's always good fun to run
down the hillsides in the nick of time to arrive at the bus stop covered
in mud, sweat (sometimes snow), feeling inordinately pleased with
myself, probably being the dirtiest person on the bus. An afternoon on
the Campsie Fells is always rewarding.
Since I needed to make a
speedy descent to Strathblane, the logical option would be to follow my
tracks down the way I came. I'd tried descending by that route a
couple of weeks previously and couldn't make myself do it. It had just
been
too dangerous. But again, there was no snow then and I didn't have the
luxury of axes and crampons to increase purchase on the slope.
But I managed the down climb. I climbed over the edge
of the escarpment then began working my way down, move a foot, move axe,
move foot, move axe, and so on. There's nothing else like it. It's a
great feeling to move across three dimensions in space, securely able to
work across rock bands and snow fields feeling completely confident and
free to move in whichever way I please.
What's more is that I wouldn't have touched this face one year
previously and now I was gallivanting up and down it, having a great
time all the way. And this day had been such
a success that I came back the next day and did it all again.
|
