Ow.

Last weekend was my first outing with my 1-man tent; my first time going up over hills with a big pack on; my first wild camp. So I knew I would be forgetting something. I wouldn't have guessed it would be suncream.

We had some stunning weather last weekend. The sun can be very hot on the top of a hill with no shelter, and seem hotter still going uphill with a big pack on. So I'm a bit knacked (even though I've been back a day!), but it was quite a weekend.

On Saturday it was over the three Munros of Beinn a' Ghlo. When I got off the train in Blair Atholl at 9am one of my fellow passengers asked where I was headed; since he was also going up the same route as I, along with a friend (waiting in a car in the station car park), I was kindly offered a lift. We all ended up walking the hills together, and good company, stunning weather and a nice route made for a great day.

After lazing around on the summit for a couple of hours, I descended to the sides of the amusingly named Loch Loch, and made camp within view of the loch. You will notice the loch's odd shape. After a decent hot dinner I went out for an evening stroll around the loch. Since I didn't want to be out too long, I turned back half way, and thus I had the bizarre experience of crossing the loch in the middle in order to return on the other side (there was a couple of inches of water, and not that wide a channel). Perhaps "Loch Loch" is merely two lochs side by side.

The (cheapo) tent seems to work, although I need to figure out how one makes the outer shell taut. In any case I had a good night's sleep nestled in my secluded glen.

On Sunday, the plan was to walk back through Glen Tilt, with a detour to bag Carn a' Chlamain. Glen Tilt is rather pleasent, and the sun was illuminating it to its full. I delighted in stopping to brew a cup of tea by the boulder shown, where a stream coming off the hill joins the River Tilt, this being the first time I've walked carrying a stove. A flask of tea can be nice, but it doesn't quite cut it.

The rest of the day was rather a slog, being rather too hot and tired carrying a big pack to appreciate the glorious surroundings. Sometimes the path seems to last forever. But it all seemed most satisfying sitting outside with my pint, waiting for the train home.

Today I spoke to my Dad. Apparently he was also off on a two-day walk starting from Blair Atholl on Saturday. Life is odd.