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24D - CAIRNGORMS WEST

                18.4 miles      1980 metres

Start                           Sunday      01.34
The Devil's Point                         02.03
Cairn Toul                                     02.48
Braeriach                                      03.41
Monadh Mor                                04.39
Beinn Bhrotain                             05.04
Mullach Clach a' Bhlair               06.32
Finish                                             06.36

Time:    Estimated    4.09      Actual    5.02

With 8 miles to get in and a further 7 to get out at the end, I had a mammoth 33 miles to travel. The wind had scarcely eased since the morning but the temperature had certainly fallen, so I set off unhappily on the bike wearing two thick jackets as well as my goretex one.

Fortunately the previous night's down glen winds didn't seem to be repeating themselves, and apart from its easing off, the wind was largely helpful. Having dreaded the ride, I found myself enjoying it. I could see thick cloud up Glen Lui where Ifor would now be, but the western hills were largely clear. It was cold though as I didn't overheat despite all my clothes.

At about midnight I opened the door of Corrour bothy to be greeted by 6 figures laid out on the floor. A torch and box of matches were presented with offers to brew up with their gas, tea and milk.

I didn't allow myself to sleep although I had in fact not slept much in the previous day's trip to Glen Clova and back. I drowsed but had another two brews to keep awake. At last I saw a torch coming down the heathery slopes opposite.

Mark arrived and I was off, not needing the torch in the bright night air. The Devil's Point arrived 8 minutes ahead of schedule, although the rocky descent was inevitably slower, requiring the torch.

I crunched across the bog below Cairn Toul's southern snow slopes. The top was frozen to a hard crust, but not hard enough to stop me going up to my calves in water. I avoided the snow expecting it to be too summer soft, and clambered up the boulders to the top, now 7 minutes behind schedule.

Lack of sleep seemed to be having its effect as my navigational decisions were far from my usual decisive ones. Firstly I contoured round Angel's Peak not bothering to get my torch out of my pocket. I was unable to see the map properly and guessed that I had height to lose. Consequently I ended up going considerable extra distance over bouldery terrain. I then couldn't make up my mind how to round Braeriach's southern top.

The sun was just below the horizon on Braeriach. There was a huge mass of cloud down the River Spey culminating in the great plume over Cairngorm that Mark had experienced last night. To the west, the hills were clear, except for the ridge where Graeme was waiting for me. The sight was stunning, but despite noting that I'd never seen the Cairngorms looking so good, I was too tired to enjoy it – I just didn't want to be there.

I had to really concentrate to run over the plateau, a small uphill, or rougher boulders and I would realise that I was walking again. All hope of a good time had gone, but I did not want to keep Graeme waiting any longer than I could help.

I was expecting a good snow run down the southern slopes and was pleased to come over the brow and see three extensive patches. However the snow was frozen so hard that I immediately realised the danger of staying on it. I did get on the less steep lower patches but it felt like running on concrete.

At this point the sun rose highlighting the red rocks, but amazingly shining on a white Monadh Mor – I now realised how heavy the frost had been. Despite my lack of desire to be there, this view made a real impression, but what a pity that possily the best view of the whole relay was given to someone so unreceptive.

After the grass of Monadh Mor, I was hoping for more on Beinn Bhrotain, another hill I'd never been on without snow before. Well it was not to be – it is a massive wasteland of rocks. At least I could leave my pack on the col.

The earlier indecisiveness returned on the long traverse around Monadh Mor, and having decided to to avoid an area of mapped boulders and crags, I ended up going right through the middle of them. It was lucky that this was another Ordnance Survey piece of imagination as the descent proved steep but grassy.

Despite my tiredness, the steep climb out of Glen Eidart showed that it was not the legs that were the problem as I romped up it. It was on the long bulldozed track to my last summit that I found it so hard to keep going.

From the summit I ran as hard as I could through freezing fog, the short distance to the track junction where Graeme should be waiting. No sign of him, then as I got there, I saw a white frosted sack contrasting with the black peat in the gully he was fast asleep in. Slowly it began to move, then a head appeared. He got out, looked in a complete daze down each track in turn, so I turned him in the right direction, pointed, and said “that way”. He jogged off just 2 minutes after my arrival.

The horrible track down seemed interminable until, glory be, I reached the mountain bike for the long freezing tarmac ride to the van.

Peaks done    161      Hours elapsed    167      Peaks to do    116

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