Monday – Mike went off to have a go at Buachaille Etive Mor, which, of course, I have already done. So I spent the morning in a murderous rampage inside the tent plus a bit of light mopping.
At some point in the afternoon, I decided to go off and bag the 1800 foot lump of An Grianan (A Little Frog) – who’s summit lies just about three miles from the camping ground – but up the soggy but richly vegetated approach to Trilleachain (Hill of the Budgie Food incidentally) mentioned somewhere previously.
I got there in sweaty weather and dozed off by the little cairn but was awakened by a chill about half an hour later. Clouds and rain were spilling over hills to the West, so, to the barking of a truculent stag somewhere in the woods, I beat a hasty retreat, not quite making it back to the tent by a very wet hour or so.
I thought of going home at this point, but dozed off and when I awoke I had somehow consumed half a bottle of South African red and a couple of bottles of Budweiser, so Budwiseley, I decided to go back to the snoozing.
An Grianan was just 6 miles and 1900 feet of uphill. Quite a nice little hill, as it happens, in the midst of so many bigger and craggier lumps. The East ridge of Beinn Sgulaird (Hill of the Teacher’s Pet) looks very interesting from there. A good place where thinking about a difficult problem might produce a result.
Or it might not.
Usually doesn’t, I find, actually.
At some point in the afternoon, I decided to go off and bag the 1800 foot lump of An Grianan (A Little Frog) – who’s summit lies just about three miles from the camping ground – but up the soggy but richly vegetated approach to Trilleachain (Hill of the Budgie Food incidentally) mentioned somewhere previously.
I got there in sweaty weather and dozed off by the little cairn but was awakened by a chill about half an hour later. Clouds and rain were spilling over hills to the West, so, to the barking of a truculent stag somewhere in the woods, I beat a hasty retreat, not quite making it back to the tent by a very wet hour or so.
I thought of going home at this point, but dozed off and when I awoke I had somehow consumed half a bottle of South African red and a couple of bottles of Budweiser, so Budwiseley, I decided to go back to the snoozing.
An Grianan was just 6 miles and 1900 feet of uphill. Quite a nice little hill, as it happens, in the midst of so many bigger and craggier lumps. The East ridge of Beinn Sgulaird (Hill of the Teacher’s Pet) looks very interesting from there. A good place where thinking about a difficult problem might produce a result.
Or it might not.
Usually doesn’t, I find, actually.
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