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Unknown to me at the time, this turned out
to be the last trip of the winter. Colin invited me out along with two
friends Faye and Peter and we met up in Anniesland before heading
northward.
We stopped in at the Ballinluig Motor Grill for a greasy bacon roll (or
two) then got on our way for an easy-going 9.55am start at the Loch
Moraig car park. Unlike when I'd visited a month earlier, we could drive
up to Loch Moraig. The snow had receded far up the hillsides, and the
mood of the valley had gone from desolate to amicable. Wildlife was
reappearing in time for spring, a good thing but for the red squirrel
who fell victim to the car tyre. For once I was glad I wasn't driving.
Carn Liath
We'd thought about doing the Beinn a' Ghlo round anticlockwise. Everyone
knew now about my one-Munro trip in February and my desire to see myself
up the three Munros. Logically, we could start with Carn nan Gabhar and
do the ones I hadn't climbed. In the end we turned off for Carn Liath. It
was a boggy approach as usual which never agrees with my ageing, leaking boots,
although the ground dried out a couple hundred metres beyond.
For the first time, I saw the full extent of the Carn Liath path. The
snow had melted away since February to reveal a wide gravel track set
straight up the hillside. It was kind of like walking up a driveway at
three thousand feet. Although the ascent was long to Carn Liath it
didn't seem so great as previously, which was a relief to me.
The summit remained covered in snow, but without the sword of rime-ice
hanging off the side as it had before. We didn't stay long for the
wind made it difficult to stop and Colin's spot-on navigation got us over Beinn
Mhaol and down to the saddle toward Braigh Coire Chruinn-bhalgain.
We stopped for lunch at this bealach on an eastern lee slope, away from
the wind chill. My lunch was crisps, chocolate and a piece of
dried fish from Colin who'd picked some up in Iceland. It tasted pretty
good too. And since everyone else were native Gaels, I got more than a
smattering of lessons in place names.
Braigh Coire Chruinn-bhalgain
Braigh Coire Chruinn-bhalgain was quite unspectacular, which is a shame
because I'm willing to bet that Beinn a' Ghlo is exceptional in good
weather. The track climbed on a gradual incline, turned from NE to
northward and dropped us right on the summit. Navigation wasn't a
problem since the compass agreed with the beaten track. After a long
misty slog, we found ourselves at a cairn. I took a just-in-case
photograph, and then the ground dropped on the other side. We'd arrived
at it then almost walked straight past, but it transpired to be the top.
Descent
We'd decided to give Carn nan Gabhar a miss, which curiously means I
may take three trips to climb the three Beinn a' Ghlo Munros! The
descent was varied bag though - the navigation down to Bealach an Fhioda
wasn't obvious but not too difficult either. As we descended, I slipped,
got up, and thought no more of it. Then the others above mentioned they
were finding coins on the ground. Then I realised that the front pocket
of my camera bag was open where I keep
coins from the Southern
Upland Way. I keep them there permanently along with a couple other
items, but for the first time I very nearly lost them.
We unknowingly cut down into the corrie 300m short of the bealach, and
then an enormous sweeping snow slope gave me one of the best glissades
of my life. I dropped 100-150 vertical metres in a matter of seconds.
Travelling at high speed made it difficult to keep facing forward, but
what a rush! And when I was down I wanted to go back up and do it all
again. Aonach Mor in the Nevis Range remains my best glissade of all
time, when four of us descended 600 vertical metres in a matter of
minutes.
The excitement fizzled out beyond the corrie headwall. We had a long
trackless walk to get back to the Shinagag track and then a few more
kilometres to the car. I got to see some of the area's valleys and
surrounding hills. Up here, winter seemed in control although some life
was returning.
And then the long march to the car park remained. Some things you
knuckle down and bear, and this was one of them. On the way back I
called Dougie (who I was on Beinn a' Ghlo with a month earlier) to ask
him if he'd yet managed to get his forgotten boots back from Pitlochry -
he hadn't yet. So we got back to the car park, pulled sore feet from
tired boots and got his boots from the backpackers hostel. We got a
quick drink and then we headed for home.
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