The Herdsmen of Glencoe....

Loch Etive
Originally uploaded by Phil Haygarth.

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The recent opening of a convenient and low-cost flight connection from Exeter to Glasgow meant that I was able to spend a cheeky 40 hours in the Highlands with my good-friend Richard Bardgett, and fulfil a mini long-term ambition and ascend the majestic ‘Herdsman’ of Glencoe. Richard picked me up around 9 pm on Wednesday night and we drove to the Bein Glas camp ground close to the Drovers Inn, just north of Loch Lomand. Perhaps inevitably we felt a little sluggish the next morning (one-too-many ‘plastic’ pints in the campsite bar). We drove via Glen Orchy and the Inbhiroran Hotel (memories of another late night with Mark Holmes and Peter Simpson and a manic piper ca. 10 years ago) and my sluggishness partly evaporated when the majestic herdsman emerged as we approached across Rannoch Moor. We parked the car at Altnafeadh, just past the Kings Hotel at the high point of Glencoe and started the climb after crossing the Coupall river up the obvious steep Coire na Tulaich, Richard in full-on blabber – botanising mode, enthusing about the similarities to the Alpine environment, whilst I grappled in part with regrets over the fifth pint and also with the rude shock at how the hills are bigger and steeper than Dartmoor (I seem to have gone soft since I moved south). Emerging on the summit of the main hill, Stob Dearg (1022 m), more-than fulfilled my expectations, a majestic panorama across Rannoch moor to the east was perhaps most impressive, but the west towards the coast and Ballachulish was also quite clear. After a bit of rehydration we staggered westward, bumbling along the entire Buachaille Etive Mor ridge over Stob na Doire (1011 m), Stob Coire Altrium (939 m) and eventually to the end at Stob na Brioge (955 m) . The view over Glen Eitve and, further west towards the Loch, was for me the best of the day and at this point we finished our tuna sandwiches and dozed for a while in the afternoon sun. Eventually, we returned a little way along the ridge before descending to Lairig valley (where I twanged my knackered-knee and Richard sprained his ageing-ankle), staggering happily towards the car across the peat, returning over 6 hours after the start. We drove to Glencoe Village for some fuel and some flapjack and had a cheeky pint of Heather Ale in the Clachaig Inn. By coincidence, Richard bumped into an old colleague - Erica and her partner Matt – and we shared an amusing hour talking about maglite torches and other similar phallic objects. Eventually, we pitched the tent outside the Kings Bar at the top of Glencoe and had a more modest few beers and a meal, whilst listening to a couple on playing an auto-harp and a squeeze box. The following morning we emerged amongst the midges and returned to the airport via a much-needed breakfast at Crainlarich railway station (a classic café I last enjoyed around 1992 with cousin Mark Holmes, my brother Dave, Bill Chew and Paul Turner – Ben Nevis Hill-race trip), A wonderful time and some great company (thanks Rich) - it seems my 40th birthday celebrations are starting early…..

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