After the 2008 meet in Builth Wells, I told dad I wanted to reach 200 Marilyns by next year's gathering. Dad said it was a real challenge but he thought we could do it. I started with Cracoe Fell, with the pointy rock needle on the top. Dad wanted me to get Sharp Haw too, but the weather turned nasty so it ended up as my last of the year in September. We had a weekend in the Lakes in March, and then climbed lots of little hills across southern England on the way to an Easter weekend in London. I did my 200th on Burnhope Seat, after we had slept the night on the floor of a little hut next to the highest point of the road.
At the dinner in Strontian in June, four ladies sang me a song about bagging 100 in a year, to the tune of YMCA. I was quite chuffed, and my dad got a video clip on his phone. On the way home from Strontian we had a fantastic day on Beinn a'Bheithir and climbed the steep east ridge so dad could collect the Murdo, Sgorr Bhan. He put the photo of me on the Murdo on his computer desktop.
Sharp Haw? Sharp pong more like. We had a dog, Ben-Ji, with us and it kept trying to get up by the car window on the drive over from York. Dad got cross with him, not thinking there might be a reason. We found out too late just half mile from Sharp Haw when he climbed on the seat and did a poo. We had a friend with us and she went with me to the top of the hill while dad had to stay and clear up the mess.
