Day 2 - three climbs, folded rock and two summits
At five the weather doesn't seem willing and neither do I. I'd been alone in the bothy until the early hours when I was woken from a deep sleep by two men bursting through the door. To their credit they drank their cans quietly once they realized they had company but sleep has been fitful ever since. Through the window I can see low cloud enveloping the glen. I lie down again and finally sleep solidly for a few hours.
When I wake again my bothy mates are still snoring. I am acutely aware of the roar of my stove, the rustle of my stuff sacks and the squeak of the bothy door. They emit an occasional groan and I suspect they are glad to see me leave. Unfortunately five minutes later I'm back. Having paused to take a photo I realise I have no poles and only one gaiter on!
Glen Pean bothy
I usually have my lowest moments in forests. Indeed this year's route has been carefully plotted to minimize forestry but this stretch is unavoidable. The first kilometre lives down to expectations. Despite a short stretch of new path through the dense trees it soon lands me on a horribly eroded quagmire of a track. Attempts to improve it by laying down pine branches just make it all the more slippery. I am still chuntering about the horrors of these sterile man made forests when I am struck by the appearance of some moss covered trees. I stop to photograph them and am suddenly aware of a cacophony of different birdsongs. As I swing my pack on my back I see banks of primroses and bluebells along the now dry track. I look down a fire break at the hillside opposite. In many ways it is as artificial as this forest, denuded of trees by previous generations and over grazed by deer. It strikes me it harbours less wildlife than the plantations I so despise.
I stride along, for once enjoying a forest, until a manmade object catches my eye. In the middle of the track lies a familiar grey lager can. I had seen many of its empty fellows around my bothy companions this morning. I pick it up. It's still full. I walk with it for a few minutes. "Finders keepers," I think and slide into my pack's side pocket. I walk on but I feel weighed down. I'm niggled by the thought that it's not really mine. I suspect my scruples would have been tested if it were a can of decent beer or a bottle of wine. I place it on a pronounced tussock and wonder if any of the Challenge regulars who will take up residence in the Fife in a week's time will pass this way. If so I suspect it will meet an instant demise!
The cloud has lifted a little as I leave the forest and cross the Pean but still sits on the 500m col which is my next objective. I walk along the west bank of the Allt Cuirnean then notice the main path is supposed to run on the other side. I trudge across the burn but only find a faint path, probably a deer trod, sticking precariously on the edge of a now deep gorge. On the far side is a now unattainable clear grassy track!
My mood is now somewhat disconsolate. I am going uphill, my legs feel leaden and the air is still, hot and muggy. Sweat drips off my nose and runs down my back. I stop after ever few metres to draw breathe and drink. By the time I reach the col I seriously doubt my capacity to complete today's route let alone the whole Challenge. I am at least blessed with a view though the peat hags in the glen below are not inviting. Although the cloud is now just below the summit of Braigh nan Uamachan the days main objective Gulvain is still enveloped. My route should take me along the glen to Lochan a'Chomhlain then up to the Corbett's south ridge. This loop seemed logical when planning, as the purist in me dislikes out and back forays, but the thought of a bog slog after yesterday's experiences does not appeal so I head straight down along a narrow grassy strip.
I sit eating lunch by the burn contemplating my next move. I feel drained. I look up at the northern slopes of Braigh nan Uamachan without much enthusiasm but at least it's clear of cloud. If I take in the Corbett it might yet clear but will I have time or energy enough for Gulvain? I spend the next ten minutes pouring over the map trying to estimate times then realize sitting here is getting me absolutely nowhere. Either way I need to climb to 500m. I pack up with purpose and by 400m my stubborn side has kicked in and I'm heading up the Corbett. I'm still sweaty, hot and breathless but I'm now determined too. Eventually steep grass gives way to a surprisingly narrow ridge and a neat summit. At the same time the mist lifts off Gulvain's south summit and I can see a tiny figure by the trig point. A few seconds later a text from Sue identifies the figure. I try and ring but don't get connected. I settle for waving frantically whilst texting back.
Summit ridge of Braigh nan Uamachan
I'm exhilarated to be on my first summit even if Sue is a good three hours ahead of me. I've got to share it with someone so I phone control.
"Hi Roger, Ali Ogden here."
"Good to hear from you. I'm rather bored. Hardly anyone has phone in yet. Where are you?"
I should have waited till Gulvain. "Braigh nan . . . something beginning with U . . er . . It's next to Gulvain." In future I resolve to only phone in from places I can pronounce!
The ridge down is steep and the col frustratingly undulating and rocky. I take a break by some stunningly folded rock strata watching the last of the day walkers reach the now clear summit and start to retrace their steps. They spur me on. I haven't seen a soul at close quarters since I closed the bothy door this morning. I know it is a forlorn hope that I'll catch them on the south summit but despite my tiring legs and the still oppressive heat it is my third 400m steep grassy ascent of the day is my fastest. Just as I see the trig point mist rolls in but I don't care now I've a path to follow and just one more descent before I camp. I trot along the Munro bagger's highway and just before I reach the col the cloud rolls out again leaving a stunning view of the Knoydart hills being enveloped by sea mist. The final ascent is the easiest walk of the day on a fine ridge. I have expansive views down the east flank. I squint looking for Sue's tent but with no success.
Gulvain from the south summit
I feel a real sense of elation on the summit. It's been a tough, pathless, solitary day. I've not seen a soul but unlike yesterday it hasn't worried me. My demons are vanquished. But I'm not finished yet. I still have to get off the hill safely.
It is a long, knee wrenching descent over loose boulders and steep grass. I'm desperately tired but mindful of yesterday's mistakes I force myself to go slowly thinking about every step. Less thought goes into picking a pitch. I take the first green patch I see. It's lumpy and sloping but doesn't stop me falling asleep with a broad grin on my face.