In Scotland, the highest mountains - those over 3000 feet (914 metres) in altitude - are known as Munros. These 288 (it varies, depending on revisions of the list) tops range in difficulty from gentle (Ben Chonzie) to decidedly unpleasant (ascending the Great Stone Chute in Corrie Lagan). After doing a few walks in the borders while on holiday last week, I had a hankering to climb a Munro again, after failing to do so at all last year. Having initially considered a second attempt on Schiehallion, from which I had to turn back in heavy snow last time when only a few hundred feet from the summit, I plumped for Ben Lawers, the tenth highest mountain of the lot.
Feature creep began to set in at this point. Although it is possible to ascend Ben Lawers by itself, by using the track in Coire Odhar, that is a dreary trudge compared to first climbing Bheinn Ghlas (1103 metres) then following the ridge over to Ben Lawers (1214m) itself . Then, a third Munro can be added to the list by crossing the subsidiary top Creag an Fhithich (1047m) and grinding one's way up the pyramidical An Stuc (1118m). At this point, completionism sets in, and the slightly exposed scramble down An Stuc's north-eastern crags to regain exactly the same height on Meall Garbh (1118m) seems bearable when, as the crow flies, the distance between the two peaks is only about 700 metres. Finally, another few hundred metres of descent and ascent in order to bag Meall Greigh (1001m), only a little over three and a half kilometres to the east, appears more palatable given the gentle, rolling nature of the climb in contrast to the craggy, steep nature of what went before.
So it is that the walk grew to almost 25km and five Munros in the end, and that is why I thought I would have to wake up Seileighe, my collie, with a glass of cold water to the face, such was her exhaustion. She had been delighted by nine hours spent racing up slopes, eyeing up sheep, standing terrifyingly close to cliff edges and gambolling excitedly in snow banks (the current pictures are not mine - I'll replace them with my own ones later - but the second was closer in terms of snow cover), but it turns out I am a better judge of my own limits than her. A proud boast: I am better at long term planning than a 22-month-old collie.
Typically for the Scottish hills, I set off on a bright, sunny morning and found myself finishing the second peak in snowfall. Such were the exertions involved in almost 1.7km of vertical ascent over the full circuit, however, that I spent most of it in only two, ultralight layers, despite the sub-zero conditions. I cannot pretend not to have been encouraging the dog to drink heavily and often from the water I was carrying for her: the extra couple of kilos of water for the two of us seemed awfully heavy by the time I reached the midway point of the ridge.
The worst part was the return slog: I had no fellow-driver to leave a car in Lawers, and so was necessarily committed to 12 kilometres of return on foot from the summit of Meall Greigh, following the line of old shielings below Lochan nan Cat, Coire Cireineach and Creag Dhubh. A centuries' old track could be traced along the hill for the last hour and a half, but it was soaked and boggy, features exacerbated by the fact that I had decided to break in a new pair of boots on this hike. By the time I crossed the Edramucky Burn and the car park by the mountain rescue post had come into view I was leg weary and (as Seileighe could testify to) in a foul mood.
But there are many great delights to climbing. One is the view from the top, accompanied by the world's best-tasting sandwiches. Another is the sense of achievement. Most important, however, is the heavenly sequence of post-walk events: changing from boots into trainers; perhaps dabbling bare feet in a burn; remembering you had soup in a thermos in the boot; getting home and sitting in a comfortable seat; sinking into a hot bath; blessed sleep.
I feel great now: a few blisters and decidedly sore knees (that's three hundred and fifty-odd games of rugby for you), but almost no stiffness at all. I'm already eyeing up my maps and Cicerone guidebook and planning Sunday's ascent.