The hardest day I had in 2013 was at Dalkeith, doing an event called Tough Mudder which someone in the office had suggested. It is a 19km cross-country course with major obstacles every 800 metres or so. With obstacle names like Arctic Enema, Electroshock Therapy aka Brain Reboot and Mud Mile, you can see it involved getting very cold, wet, muddy and receiving lots of electric shocks - worse than the worst electric fence. At the end of it you had bonded well with your team, but the skin on your legs, arms and head was no longer bonded to the tissue underneath.
The various pathless plods and crawls through tussocky grass, waist-high heather, brambles, bracken and filthy bogs on many of the hills I climbed in 2013 were excellent preparation for the Tough Mudder. Another thing now that I had finished with Elsie Graham, I discovered the joy of Humping - thanks to those responsible for the Database of British and Irish hills. Practically all the hills I did were within 160km radius of Stranraer or in Shetland. The desire to do all the hills within 160km of Stranraer is that very soon the area from west to north to east of Scotland will be one gigantic industrial wind farm estate, unless we all fight it.
My first non-local trip was to Campbeltown, to stay at the excellent new backpacker's hostel. This was two days after the electricity had returned after the devastating blizzard in late March. The highlight was the Hump of Davaar Island at sunrise, due to a fellow backpacker getting up at 5.30am so he could go surfing. Davaar Island was immediately counterpoised by a two-hour wallow in waist-deep snow up Beinn Ghuilean, though the view from the top was worth it.
In May I had eight days in Shetland. Maeve in my yoga class gave me a list of places to visit and I ticked off most of them despite having a stinking cold for the first three days. I did 23 Humps. Luckily, I missed one of the mainland Humps so will have to return. Many of the hill tops are rubbish, having radio masts on them, but the area is jam-packed with fascinating physical geography.
Maeve had mentioned tombolo beaches and I fell in love with the one at St Ninian's Isle which I looked down on from the main ridge. The most enjoyable hill was Noss Head which was ferry, walk, ferry from Lerwick. The cliffs, seabirds and solitude were absolutely outstanding. Even if you only visit Sumburgh Head you get an idea of the sheer power of nature. Mousa broch is rightly the best in the world, as is the Jarlshof archaeological site.
In early June I was driven off the northern Jura hills by a storm but made a mental note that I must visit Scarba. In late June I was nearly driven off Beinn Tart a'Mhill by the angriest farmer I have ever encountered. Wait until he is in hospital getting his blood pressure lowered before you attempt the obvious route from the west. However, Port Charlotte youth hostel, the Beinn Bheigier circle including Humps, and Loch Finlaggan provided some compensation. Although the Paps will always entice me back to neighbouring Jura.
I had some concerns after the previous year that my annual trip to the Ponds would be a desperate struggle to avoid being ripped off by extortionate car parking fees. However, basing myself at the beautiful Cockermouth youth hostel, I found the western Lake District very pleasant when the weather relented enough to actually see anything. It rained on six of the seven days I was there, but I found Mellbreak direct excellent and a round in Wastwater - Kirk Fell and Pillar - was lovely when the clouds lifted.
The most pointless hill summit I visited in 2013 was Airds Hill, with its true highest point buried in mass of forestry. How can anyone determine where the soil ends and the vegetation begins? It will be a fine viewpoint when the forestry is felled. That same trip I finally fought my way through to Cruach Lerags. Again it is a shame that the Forestry Commission are not compelled to leave a little clearing on a true summit.
In November I was lucky enough to get a Brocken spectre on the Pentlands between Carnethy Hill and Scald Law. The year ended with barbed wire and electrocution on Lamberton Hill and generally getting wet and muddy in the festive storms.
Hopefully, I will see some fellow Marilyn baggers on Knock of Crieff for my induction into the Upper Hall of Fame in June 2014, assuming I survive Tough Mudder that month.
Ward Hill, Fair Isle - rubbish hill top in a fine setting (photo: John Henderson)
