2013 was another year curtailed by injury to the extent that I ponderously typed this using just my left hand, with the right arm tucked up in a sling.
The end of March was bitter. We were cut off on Jura for two days as a fierce gale blew from the east, plastering Kintyre with four-metre drifts. On our final morning, Alan Whatley and I climbed Glas Bheinn and its neighbouring Hump at the south end of the island in icy but clear conditions, leaving Barbara to safely puddle about near Craighouse. On returning to the Jura Hotel, we found her being well looked after by the kind staff following her failure to clear a 40cm fence in Kells graveyard, resulting in ruptured ankle ligaments. This has severely interfered with her training schedule for the 2014 Commonwealth Games and her chances of representing England in the high jump appear to be fading into the distance. That afternoon we crossed on the re-opened ferry to Islay, only to find that our cottage had no electricity and resembled the Swedish ice hotel. Our host managed to get us in to a warm and comfortable bed and breakfast where we had great fun manhandling Barbara up the stairs to our room.
Power returned to the south of Islay but our cottage remained fit only for penguins as we were the first tenants of the 2013 season. Despite the cold Antarctic conditions (continuing the penguin analogy) the skies were crystal clear and I soon polished off the Islay Marilyns, with a return to Jura planned for 2014. They are two beautiful islands almost joined at the hip but the only similarity in their characters is that they are both surrounded by water.
A wet and windy week in Ardgour and Sunart with the AZ group was as enjoyable as ever. The ascent of Beinn na h-Uamha was staggering in gale-force winds. Gordon and Steve are both a little lighter than myself so we walked in a straight line into the storm in order to remain on the summit plateau and avoid being blown towards the cliffs.
We attempted a group walk to climb the Corbett, Druim Tarsuinn, on a beautiful spring day. The eight of us reached the summit in good time and weather only for Duncan to inform us that we had climbed the adjoining Hump and that the Corbett was half an hour to the north. Strength in numbers and experience. GPS equipment in the rucksack. I am afraid complacency and carelessness still win every time. Only Andy had registered that we were on the wrong hill but we never listen to him as we are always in too much of a hurry to reach the top. Lessons to be learnt:
When we finally reached the summit, I discovered that my food was back in the kitchen at Acharacle. Thanks to all for the whip round resulting in me enjoying my best lunch on the hills during 2013.
I returned to Ardgour three weeks later but had a bad fall near the foot of Meall nan Damh, going uphill. This followed a debate about poles versus no poles and I had decided to give them a rest and put them in the back of my rucksack when - whoosh... I put out my right arm to protect my head and five months later I ended up in the operating theatre to repair the damage, with a premature end to hillwalking for 2013.
Despite considerable pain and discomfort, I managed a great week in hot weather in July. I had two nightmares. Cnoc Reamhar was approached from the north-east by the forestry track, resulting in waist-high tussocks rooted in water followed by an ignominious crawl through dense forestry. It was so dense that I ended snaking up a drainage ditch in order to give me a few extra centimetres of height. When I finally emerged I was immediately surrounded by swarms of flies with both the Smidge and Skin So Soft in the car.
Beinn Ruadh in Cowal was another trial. I have generally found Andrew Dempster's book, The Grahams, extremely useful, but not on Beinn Ruadh. High humidity in head-high bracken and very steep slopes made for a most uncomfortable morning. I am advised that a better approach from the north exists. Great knowing that now. Even the descent was tortuous and Gordon and I resorted to boulder hopping down the Inverchapel burn in the absence of any visible path. A final week in Appin in late October prior to surgery was wet but productive. I had completed region 18 and given region 19 a big fright.
In between my trips north I also made good progress with Humps, coincidentally having climbed precisely 300 more (1672). That is assuming that the Tamperers have been quiet. I celebrated climbing my 1600th on four occasions, only to repeatedly to find that one Hump or another which I had already climbed had been knocked off the list.
I even climbed Old Radnor Moor to find that the summit rocks had been relocated and were now part of a civil engineering project near Nottingham and the hill was now Old Radnor Hole.
