19 Jun 2010. Glen Lyon Munros

I arrived at the Munro Inn, Strathyre the previous evening spending the night in the bar and bunk room. I sincerely hoped that breakfast would be prompt as I wanted to be out. In the bar various people had come up with suggested Munros to do although I had intended to the the Glen Lyon 4. After I had eaten I scribbled down my route and left it on my bunk advising one of the staff.

The drive to Invervar where the route started from was longer than I anticipated but pleasant. I was quite shocked on the A827 to the east of Killin that a enormous Red Deer Stag jumped into the road then effortlessly jumped over the wall at the other side. Thankfully the rest of the herd waited otherwise my car would have come to grief. Perhaps they had learnt the deer equivalent of the Green Cross code.

I eventually gained the Glen Lyon road which was narrow and had many trees, passing places and blind bends. The sat nav eventually indicated that I had arrived and I saw a phone box. I allowed 2 cars through before turning round in a drive way. I parked as close to the phone box as possible with a car behind me. Very soon after the 2 cars I had allowed through were seen reversing up a track. The track was to the car park which was full. They took the remaining free space on the roadside so I was very lucky. Any later and I may have had to change my route completely.

Seven gentlemen of a mature age got out the cars and prepared for their adventures. I bid them farewell stating that they would be down before myself. A point that they doubted which surprised me however I chose not to argue when they described themselves as the Last of the Summer Wine Munro Baggers!

I set off through an awkward gate and up the track through trees before breaking the tree line. The camera came out for obligatory photo. Walking at a comfortable pace up the track I eventually caught up with 3 of the group of 7 gents. A brief chat revealed that they were staying at Strathfillan Wigwams and some were from the Liverpool area. I carried on past them before realising that I wanted to be the other side of the stream with a widening gully. A check of the map proved this. I mentally kicked myself for blindly following those in front. I had seen a rusty bridge and not even given it a second thought. Grrr. The 3 looked at my map agreed that I could possibly be right but were obliged to follow the carrier of the map and GPS. I think they would otherwise have been happy to follow me.

I dropped down a steepish slope crossed the burn and climbed up the other side looking for the worn path I had seen. Eventually it was found, as expected the path started to climb and I was aware of the wind speed creeping up. I sat down put on my trusty windproof admired the view and felt like giving up. Gusts of up to 50mph had been forecast and did I have the energy? I started on my bottle of cordial and soon I realised the stupidity of the thought of turning back with excellent visibility and rose to my feet. Head down I continued along the gentle ridge in front of me aware of steepening slopes ahead. As I ambled purposefully along, 3 men waved to me from lower down the side of the ridge. They were taking a much steeper route up to gain the ridge. I didn't think any more of it and assumed that the number of people I could see much higher up towards the first summit where my Summer Wine friends. It wasn't until later I realised that it was the fastest of the Summer Wine troops who were waving at me whilst puffing and panting their way up.

Consider me selfish but seeing others it spurred me on despite the increasing speed and strength of the wind. What ever happened I had the hunger to succeed and get on to top of Carn Gorm. My Munro count was sat at 65 and I really wanted to get 71 by the end of the year. The route appeared to get steeper but nowhere near as hard as I thought. I saw a cairn assumed it was the top. The path seemed to lead to it with the same amount of purposes as the M1 going to London. I found a little sheltered spot where a packet of crisps were devoured. I should know better when seeing little cairns, it was a false summit.

I continued on my way aware of the ever increasing views. The entire Ben Lawers Ridge and the Tarmachans were behind me, Ben More and Stob Binnien were in the distance. As Glen Lyon is Scotland's longest glen its was inevitable that some of the glen would also be visible. I was met at the summit with some nice strong gusts of wind. These would remain my companions for the rest of the day. I was astounded with the view of Loch Rannoch and Schiehallion from an angle one isn't used to seeing. I took a few photos but the buffeting did not encourage me to stop for long. Inside the wind shelter the trig pillar lay on its side.



As I walked along the summit plateau of Carn Gorm the descent looked like it could be steep. I really wasn't looking forward to it however once down it did look just like a high level walk. I hit the track down and my earlier fears turned out to be a storm in a teacup. I very soon reached a group and realised that these were the people I had seen ahead of me. A cheery wave and I continued on my way. Any vocal communication would have been carried away on the breeze. About 15 minutes later I looked behind to see the Last of the Summer Wine Munro Baggers arrive safety on top of Carn Gorm.

The flattish walk continued on on grassy slopes. Eventually the remains of fence posts appear before the ground under foot was littered with rocks. Two young men came yomping up behind me. We exchanged pleasantries before continuing on our quests. Their younger and longer legs carried them to the summit cairn on Meall Garbh shortly before myself. They were seen taking pictures of each other by the summit cairn which is fortified by many of the unused fence posts. If they had waited 2 minutes they could have had a team photo. I quickly took a long arm summit shot of myself - not a good look as the wind was trying to whip my hair from under the hood of my windproof jacket.

The route continued onwards across a long plateau. The wind blew relentlessly so much so that I gave up using trekking poles as it was difficult to place them on the ground without stabbing my boots. Also I could hear the hood of my windproof flapping like the flysheet of a tent and no amount of tightening it would stop the constant hammering noise. I could see Carn Mairg with its craggy side beckoning me on in the distance and the 2 young men had disappeared. The fence posts acted as an unnecessary guide across a long plateau as crystal clear skies reigned overhead. When walking between the subisidary top of Meall a' Bharr and Carn Mairg I looked behind me to see two familiar characters. Inevitably the longer legs caught me up again and both young men had succumbed to wearing hats to protect ears from the constant wind bashing. We had a quick chat by the summit cairn which is just higher than the crag top a short distance away. The last of the Summer Wine chaps could be seen by the fence post cairn on the previous summit and it would be the last time I saw them.

It was decision time should I go for number 4 or not. Fortunately the 2 young men found a way down from Carn Mairg which wasn't too rocky and it was the steepest descent of the day. Eventually I made it down considered my options and thought do I really want to come back just to do one Munro or come back to enjoy the walk on another day. A quick stop to devour an apple and an almond and cherry tart gave me the resolve to continue. Returning because I want to enjoy a walk is far better than coming back to get the missing tick in my mountain profiles.

Before I knew it I was battling towards the summit of Meall na Aighean in a ferocious head wind. A couple of people had already taken the only sheltered place so a quick picture and getting down was a priority. In my desperation to get off I missed the well worn path. In some ways it was a relief as I was temporarily sheltered. Eventually I plodded along the worn track where many had passed before however, the incessant wind returned to haunt me. I started to swear as trekking poles flailed around controlled by an invisible source. It was a great relief to see the woods again with trees to provide shelter.

I eventually arrived at the awkward gate at 6:30pm and the view of my car at the other side was a wonderful site! I was quite surprised to see one of the last of the Summer Wine chaps sat in one of the cars. Bless him, he had come down after Carn Gorm using the path I went up on. 10 out of 10 had to be awarded as he had not long since had a hip replacement. He did not expect to see the rest of his group until 8:00pm at the earliest. I spent quite a bit of time talking to the poor man as he still had plenty of time to while away. The gratitude was such that he offered me a Mars bar to keep me going until I got back.

I set off on my journey back to Strathyre. I drove over the road by Ben Lawers. It was quite interesting as I hadn't driven it in that direction before. Last time I travelled alongside Lochan na Lairige from north to south was by foot wearing crampons in February 2009.

I reported my safe return at the Munro Inn and took the opportunity to make myself human again. In the bar a pint of lemonade, pint of cider and a veggie lasagne with chips filled the gap in my stomach. I gratefully got back in my bunk that night. Apparently Tony the owner had words with another guest for being very noisy at 3:00am. A day in the hills and a pair of earplugs, I didn't hear a thing!