With the exception of the Isle of Man, all unclimbed Marilyns now lie north of the central belt of Scotland and west of the A9.
My first foray north was to Ross and Cromarty and Caithness with Alan Whatley at the end of March/early April where we experienced freak sub-tropical temperatures quickly followed by heavy snowfalls. The views from these northern hills were outstanding, particularly from the tops of Morven and Ben Griam Beg with its huge hill fort. Three days later I climbed the very remote Ben Armine and Creag Mhor alone, reliant on GPS all day in thick, cold mist. Dreich, but exhilarating. Getting permission to take the car up the estate road for several miles was a great assist.
At the end of April, we had a great couple of weeks on Harris with my old colleagues. I could call them ex-colleagues but old seems to increasingly fit the bill. Again, the weather was kind, enabling a belated birthday gift of a trip to Hirta in perfect conditions. Unfortunately, Marilyns other than Conachair were off limits due to bird breeding but Angus Campbell with his new boat gave us close ups of the stacs and Boreray. A memorable day. Barbara and I also had a fabulous day on Scarp where we were treated to tea, cake and water transport by the only part-time residents. On south Lewis, near the summit of Liuthaid, Barbara witnessed a large lamb being lifted and carried off for lunch by an eagle, much to the distress of the mother and Barbara.
A good way to escape all the Jubilee hype was to head north. Despite the BBC claiming that the country was being deluged, the north of Scotland was basking in sunshine yet again. It is amazing how the BBC seems to think that all the world weather systems emanate from Broadcasting House and that the world ends at Watford. I finished off regions 4 and 9, easily boulder hopping across the near empty River Roy to climb the eastern Leana Mhor.
Our daughter, Jemma, returned from a year travelling the world, and before returning to work, she foolishly mentioned that she would not mind climbing a few hills. Within a few days, she found herself with her mum and dad a few miles from Kyle of Lochalsh being dragged up mountains. The weather was amazing. People were swimming at Applecross. Days of outstanding hill climbing followed by evenings of exciting Olympics on the box. Jemma said that Scotland in such weather was as good as anywhere in the world that she had visited, including Patagonia, Peru, Bolivia and New Zealand. Whilst on this trip I managed to climb my final 900m hill, Sgurr a'Choire-bheithe, getting a useful lift across Loch Hourn to Barrisdale Bay.
My final visit north was to the Cowal peninsula at the end of September. My first day out was the wettest September day for ten years. However, despite the torrential rain, there was no wind and I resorted to using my golf brolly. Whilst it kept me dry, it did not help my balance or posture whilst walking miles over tussocky swamp and I would be loath to try it again after experiencing some novel pains the next morning. On that following day and after the storm had moved south, I was admiring the crystal-clear views from the summit of Cruach nan Capull, when I was suddenly aware of a presence behind me. I was delighted to be joined by Eric Young and Anne Bunn and we swapped a few stories, before we went our separate ways.
Autumn was a wash-out as far as Marilyns were concerned although I managed quite a few soggy Humps in the delightful Welsh borders.
Roll on 2013 and Jura and Islay in Spring followed by a trip to Sunart and Ardgour. In the meantime, it is off to Wales for more Humping.
