The fine weather in September 2014 saw a big bash in the Lake District. Otherwise it was quite an islands year - particularly on Harris and Lewis. I flew to Barra; spent Christmas planting trees on Harris. I also visited Gigha, Colonsay, Mull and the Isle of May twice (birding).
Most of July and August was spent on Scotland's lowland canals, Roman walls etc researching for a new book. There were two visits to London, a balloon flight, Kinlochleven's via ferrata, six steam train routes and other distractions which all kept ticking at bay. Plus the big 80 was celebrated.
Two particular outings were memorable, for different reasons:
Mickle Fell - I had a van night by Cow Green reservoir, cycled via the Spout and then went up and down the north flank to the summit. Afterwards, as I was driving along the south side of the hill I was horrified to see a notice saying that I should have written in advance to the range officer stating the date, number in walking party and route - giving alternative dates as a precaution. The sign also says that the officer will contact all the relevant landowners and gamekeepers before issuing a permit. What country other than England could tie itself up in such preposterous bureaucracy over going up a hill?
Roineval - this was a Christmas day of glory on a hill with outstanding views of snowy hills and a million patches of water. Best hill of the year.
Scanning through previous editions of Marhofn I note that there were only two first-hills before world war two, by the redoubtable Rowland Bowker and Miles Hutchinson. War-time first-time baggers are Peter Bellarby, Charles Knowles, Anne Morrison and myself. I had only reached the UK a few weeks earlier having been marooned in South Africa after escaping the fall of Singapore. We had a family holiday in Carrick Castle and my new big brother, his friend Margaret and I went up Cruach nam Miseag. I recall running up and down; Margaret paused to warn us of a dirty big hole, turned and went in up to her waist. As we settled in Dollar, the Ochils became my hill playground.
