An Grianan

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.

Sgurr nam h-Ulaidh

Sunday the weather wasn’t vastly improved, but we couldn’t be sitting around squashing insects, so we decided on Sgurr nam h-Ulaidh (Peak of the Moisturising Cream).
For this, we had to go back to Invercharnan and do the same route through the forest, but instead of turning off for Findlay’s Peak, we went straight on up the corrie – right up the corrie, in fact to a bealach between Ulaidh’s main ridge and Meall a Bhuiridh, its 748 metre outlier. Mike went off to bag this whilst I struggled manfully with the severely uphill bits of this hill. The SMC guide says that the route from Glen Etive avoids all steep ground. Hah! Seems pretty steep to me, in fact, at one point, there’s a slabby crag. Its not difficult to bypass this with a short and easy scramble – but it’s a crag. Seems pretty steep all the way up.
I had about half an hours wait for Mike, during which time the brothers and sisters of the poor souls I had so brutally murdered the day before caught up with me and gave me a bit of a going over.
A lad from the National Trust info centre in Glencoe turned up – still with his name badge on. He asked us if we’d done “the ridge” yet?? !? he meant Aonach Eagach. Course he did. We hadn’t and wouldn’t be doing it this time around. I was, by this time, frankly, knackered and up for another day of cruelty to insects.
We descended by the steep Corr na Beinn ridge and back home to pull the legs of something.
Another 9 miles and 3200 feet of uphill.
The views today were improved somewhat (in my opinion) by the loads of fluffy clouds that were in – coming and going and floating around just like clouds do.
Luckily, the weather was looking sufficiently iffy for me to excuse myself from anything big and go and bag a little Marilyn I had noticed not too far from the campsite.

Beinn Trilleachain

Mike was apparently suffering from Frost Heave, or something linked to far too much whisky to be arsed with walking anywhere on Thursday and plumped for the fleshpots of Glencoe
I decided to relocate my tent to the head of the loch, where there is an informal camping ground, and after fighting off a couple of grey hordes of blood-sucking midgleys, went for a little strollette up the local Corbett , one Beinn Trilleachain.
This hill is specially famous for its slabs of granite, upon which a few generations of rock climbers have scared the willies out of themselves.
As a walk, it’s a bit damp at first, and the local vegetation is green and lush and hard to fight a way through – but the route eventually starts up the upturned hull-shape of a hill and tiptoes up a few nicely angled slabs, and then down a few more to the final rounded top, where, it was perishing cold.
The views all around are quite fab, though and if you have a short half day spare, this is a cracking hill to bag.
I returned via a lot more slabs to a little lochan and then back to my dinner.
Just six fab miles and just about 3000 feet of climbing.
Discovered that the tent leaks both water and midgies. Bugger.

There will now be a short intermission

This is me all packed up and ready to go once again - this time for a few days in Glen Etive for the bagging of a few Munro's, and, perhaps a Corbett. I have to return next Tuesday, cos my supply of some of my many tablets runs out on Tuesday.

I suspect that we'll just be remaining in the Glen for the whole thing - the weather forecast for the first couple of days is now a bit iffy and its possible that instead of walking I might have to return to the Mabinogion (which I misplaced, but now I found it again) So its back to ladies turning into hares and swans and sheep and ..er... stuff...

Ive also packed some plonk and some beer and some scotch, as there isnt a pub in Glen Etive as such. (Not too far to the Kingshouse, though, I suppose...)

Anyway, the point is, I won't be blogging for a while. There's no phone signal there anyway.

I'll be bagging a HuMP in the Borders on the way - one small and grassy lump called Boon Hill. I'll eat me butty on it.

Look - I found a pic of Glen Etive. Nice, innit?