2014 was another year of gradually nibbling away. What I absolutely love is the sheer variety of hills awaiting us on our exploits. Marilyns can be very lonely hills so we just could not believe the massive crowds who tackled Pen y Fan in the Brecon Beacons on a fair-weather day in June. When we were told our route was called the Motorway we immediately knew why.
Islands were to the fore and a two-week trip to the Outer Hebrides from Barra to Harris probably ticked the high-point of our year. Standing on the summit of Uisgnabhal Mor on a day of blue skies and long clear views, we were rewarded by the sight of two sea eagles soaring on the thermals above and below us. Beinn Mhor on South Uist in thick mist did not have the same appeal.
In north Wales, we took a trip out to Bardsey Island. It reminded us so much of Iona and if you go over to this magical little island do not just climb the hill but take time to wander all over the island for a sense of its tranquillity and peace and a feeling of what life must have been like for the monks who carved a life for themselves on the island all those centuries ago.
August bank holiday pulled us to Rum and Trollabhal was the lure. Clear weather saw us sitting on the airy summit, where in the distance we could see our friends ascending Ainshval. Little did we know that this would be our last glimpse of Peter, who suffered a fatal fall on the descent towards Harris. It has brought home to us that in doing the things we love we also play a dangerous game.
Ruadh Stac, Skye (photo: John Henderson)
