"You should know better at your age!"

April 2010 near An Teallach. My last full day to visit three Corbett summits after my fourth night of bivying out under the stars - well, the stars on one bitterly cold night, anyway! It was 7 am and I was on the move. No stream to wash in but I was able to leave the rucsac for my return to travel light for the first Corbett. A steep band of snow meant I went off to the left and got onto steep but snow-free ground. I got away with it and on the descent took the safer route on the other side of the snow. I found the rucsac but then had a long walk in to the next pair of Corbetts. Near to the base of the mountain I met two men walking through the mountains from Poolewe. They were taking a low level route and were staying in the two bothies, the second of which they were almost at. I, however, was heading off to do the next two summits.

The map seemed to show a route that I could take that would mean I could climb round the rampart of crags above. It worked in March but this time I was getting onto ever steeper ground that led me up onto a rocky ridge. I made some hesitant progress but when it seemed never ending and ever more hairy, I thought I should make a careful retreat down a very steep, mainly grass gully. My North Face mountain approach shoes with their studded soles held me to the mountain side and I clambered down safely. I found myself in a bowl or cwm having lost considerable height but, at least, there was now a clearer way up. From the ridge, the left hand summit did look higher but labouring up to the ridge, I began to doubt my judgement. I went off the right hand one first where I saw the true high point was indeed the one I had veered away from. That meant I lost more time doing an unnecessary summit.

I next had a difficult decision whether to play safe and return without completing the final Corbett or to risk all and go for it. I had no rucsac, torch, sleeping bag or even bivy bag. My bumbag held waterproofs, phone and a little food. It was the last full day, the final Corbett of the holiday, the weather was holding - so I went for it. I got to it in fine style, even phoned Linda from the summit and then had to very carefully check the map for the quickest and safest route off to find my rucsac and utlimate safety. Thankfully, I chose the correct side to descend off the ridge, kept the lochan to my left when the other side might have been a little quicker and then ended up half running and half walking to find my rucsac before darkness overtook me. In such situations, I always think the rucsac is on to top of the boulder sooner than the actual boulder is found! However, I found the correct boulder with half an hour before the light faded completely. It was 2030 hrs and I had been out and on the move - and with a dodgy Achilles tendon - for 13.5 hrs. I think a record for me!

In the morning, I walked over to the bothy. The two men were still there and they confirmed the conclusion I had already come to - there is only one safe route up and down "the mini An Teallach", as one called it. And it was certainly not the route I had foolishly chosen to get up!


August 2010 in Dumfries and Galloway. I had a superb cycle ride from Castle Douglas to Newton Stewart after Linda and Mike dropped me off on their way to the Glasgow Girls exhbition of painings in Kirkcudbright. The ride took nearly five hours instead of three when I foolishly thought I could get along a 1.7 Km footpath between a forest road and a country lane. I ended up carrying the bike much of the way through bracken and tussocky grass. And, I could have had a nice downhill section on smooth tarmac on a road! Its only redeeming feature was that it was downhill and it taught me never again to introduce myself to the daunting venture of cyclo-cross at my age of 62! At one point, I was ensnared amongst low lying branches, a stream and bracken on a steep section. I took a step or two to return from whence I came, only to find a wooden footbridge that I had missed amongst all the undergrowth. I climbed up to it and thought I'd continue, after all. By a cottage, on the lane where I came out I told my story to a father and son who were in their front garden. The old man laughed and the son was horrified at what I had done.