Probably because I seem to be always horrendously busy, I've been very bad at making blog posts, but I thought I'd include the following from a rare day off.
Ocassionally, just occasionally, you get settled periods of cold clear weather in a Scottish winter; days that guarantee that you are not going to have to worry about compass, white-outs, wind roaring in your ears and spindrift exfoliating your face.
In March, one of those weather windows opened, and even more astonishingly I had a bit of time off. The East Coast was fog bound, but we were assured that the west coast was clear. Having stopped for a coffee at Tyndrum in grey mist, I had thought we were going to be cheated, but, as we went round the corner and up the side of Ben Dorian, the mist simply stopped, and ahead of us was clear, crisp blue sky.....
As we raced across the Great Moor of Rannoch, we got more and more excited. The Big Buachaille looked absolutely fantastic.
Our destination was the little Buachaille, and it provided us with one of the most extraordinary days in the hills in recent years. You could see all the way from the Skye Cuillin to the Paps of Jura to the Cairngorms and Schiehallion.
Let the pictures tell a thousand stories!!
