On Friday, I packed my bag. On Saturday morning, at 5am, I rose, got ready, and eventually set off for the 6.40 train to Dalwhinnie. After reading The Grapes of Wrath for a couple of hours on the train (of which more later), I arrived at about 9.20, and proceeded to walk in to where I'd be staying and basing my walks from for a couple of days. About three hours of walking with a big pack full of weekend stuff (largely sleeping and cooking gear and food) later, I arrived at Culra bothy, which was a decent place to spend a couple of nights.

After lunch, it was off up Ben Alder via the Long Leachas, a grassy and then rocky ridge which involves a bit of mild scrambling. As on most Munros there's a path one can follow up the ridge, but it was in fact the narrow level sections which had my attention most fully; the ridge seems to catch what wind there is, and I didn't want to be blown off my feet (and the ridge) by a gust of wind. Anyway, I wandered up to the end of the ridge, and eventually to the top of the hill, by this point in cloud. Heading off for the day's second (and final) hill was a navigational experience, as for the first time I didn't really realise when I'd hit the bealach (it being ill-defined and still in cloud). Then it's up to the top, and back down to the bothy for a night's kip.

I was sharing the room of the bothy with a guy and his two sons (maybe 18 and 16, give or take a couple of years?), who had come over the hills from Corrour Halt, and would be heading back down and across to Rannoch Station. Seemed like a nice route.

I woke on Sunday to a sort of miserable gray outlook; there was a light misty drizzle, and the cloud base was very low (the bottom of the hills rather than the tops). After having swithered beforehand, I set off up the Lancet Edge of Sgor Iutharn. After getting a little bit wet on the approach and lower sections (my collection of blisters can testify to a long day's walking with wet feet), I gradually made my way upwards. The ridge goes from craggy interspersed with grass and semi-vertical bog to a pleasent path leading up along the rocky crest to a final flattish section.

This last seemed to be of reasonable length, and is really the interesting part of the whole thing. At times it seemed very interesting, hands gripping the rock in the wind and rain. Fortunately it was not as windy as I'd expected, much milder than the previous day/ridge, and while I felt the need to hang on to something in case my feet slipped on the wet rock, there was always plenty to hold onto with both hands. It really is amazing to see a big ridge on a huge hunk of a hill come down to a knife-edge, and walk along with feet on one side and hands curled over the top.

Unfortunately I have no photos of the interesting bit, make of that what you will.

After having gone on at length about that, I shall be brief on the less brief part of the walk. I went up to Geal Charn, and continued along to Aonach Beag, and over to Beinn Eibhinn, the last of which I had visited before from the other direction. On the top of that hill I met up with a group of three who had set off at the same time as me, going around behind the ridge I had just walked along and up the col before that hill, so that I arrived at my third top just before they arrived at their first.

After a chat I set off back along the ridge which was also to be their route. Backtracking over the pleasant well-defined ridge to Aonoch Beag and then Geal Charn, still in the clouds as I had been almost all day, I slowly worked back towards my temporary home. After refilling with water at a lovely tasting stream running off Geal Charn, I headed along to Beinn Dearg, down and up, down and up, and then finally down the steep hillside to arrive directly at the bothy.

It turned out that my first bothy experience was to be fairly interesting. The guy who (volunteers to) maintain the place arrived; I automatically offered my assistence, and found myself rummaging around in the loft, and cutting wood. Eventually everybody seemed to be doing something, always nice when people just pitch in. Another stereotype was also confirmed, as a couple of the guys who were supervising a bunch doing their Duke of Edinburgh's award left them in their tents in the rain, to retreat to the cosy log fire of the bothy and avoid putting their tent up/down in the wet. Of course they had to be told about the roaring fire :)

You'd think I'd sleep well from that, but apparently not. Anyway, on Monday morning I set back off up the track for my train. About 2 1/2 hours into the 3-hour walk a bloke in a landrover stopped by me, and offered a lift up to the station, which I gladly accepted. I feel the fact that I had to walk home from Waverly due to lack of bus service more than makes up for the extra distance not walked...

So, to sum up, about 65km unevenly split over three days, 5 new Munros and a pair of sore feet.