I began my count for the year camping in our new tent near Buxton at the beginning of May; a lovely weekend climbing Gun, Kinder Scout, and The surprisingly excellent Cloud. Admittedly, exploring the fascinating summit rocks having just heard that Cambridge United had got to Wembley for the second successive year probably 'clouded' my judgement.
I did Dundry Down on the way to Dorset by convincing my wife that the traffic jam on the M5 was much worse than on the route through Bristol. It was not as bad as some say - lovely village at the top, great views of the Mendips and Ashton Gate.
My vote for the worst Marilyn goes to Brandy Hill, which was reached by a muddy field and a difficult scramble through a barbed-wire fence on a drizzly day in February. I have not ticked it yet as I still have not done its twin peak - I'm not sure I'll bother, having heard others' tales of woe. I then got up early one morning with my eldest son, Matthew, and drove from Dorset to Wills Neck in the Quantocks, and still got back to the pub in Charmouth before the rest of the family, who had only had a ten-minute walk from camp.
The best of my summer Munros was a family attempt on Beinn nan Aighenan. Matthew and I reached the summit with friend Jeff whilst Nicola enjoyed a siesta and the youngsters played hide and seek on the Starav col. We also climbed Ben Laga, which has a fantastic summit. The children loved skimming stones on the lochans there.
Ben Starav (photo: Phil Dant)
The holiday highlight for me was the hill race on North Uist. It was a stiff pull up to the ridge of North Lee and I then traversed via the trig point to the true summit. The stewards congratulated me on my efforts and said 'it's all downhill now'. I expressed surprise as I was still expecting to go on to South Lee. Although the race was advertised as visiting two peaks, they actually meant the trig and the true top. On the way down I was passed by the runners, who included my hero Rory Macdonald, bass player in my favourite band, Runrig. We exchanged a few words as he passed - surreal or what? I completed the 10km route in 150 minutes and got back to Lochmaddy to receive a medal for my efforts. Steve Fallon, the fastest runner, took only 45 minutes.
My last Munro of the year was Seana Bhraigh - only 20 to go now. It was a lovely walk up from Inverlael forest in October, but it was compasses out for the summit. We trudged back down the ridge to the car in the forest, and arrived exhausted just as it got dark. Charles Everett and his dog, who had been with us, madly carried on to do Meall nan Ceapraichean and Cona Mheall. It was about 8:30pm when they finally arrived back shattered at the holiday house (CW: No surprises there then).
My last Marilyn of the year was clearing up the Botley Hill technicality. Youngest son James and I jogged up in October to mop up the true summit of a hill which I originally visited eleven years ago.
