Rivers wide and mountain high
Last month, a trip to visit family and friends in Scotland and Ireland found me and my trusty companion Bruce the boxer dog, perched atop Ben Morven in northern Scotland, drinking from a canteen of cold water purified from a mountain stream and enjoying the quite unusual 20-degree heat and azur blue sky. I had completely lost track of time (easily done in this part of the world) in my all-consuming quest to conquer the large rock, and at just under two thousand feet, the highest peak of all the Caithness Marilyns.
The web blog I’d visited the night before had said, ‘moderate to easy going and dog friendly’. The peat bog complete with hidden treacherous pits set to swallow me and the dog whole; vicious biting midges and clegs (horseflies); the raging torrent river with no obvious way to cross and the enormous boulder field at the foot of the mountain… hmmm not convinced it was dog or man-friendly! One of the steepest and scariest ascents of a mountain I think I’ve ever experienced wasn't enough to deter one man and his dog however, and I did wonder if the blogger had actually climbed it at all?
The view from the summit more than made up for it though and I had to spare a thought for my colleagues busying themselves in the office just over 500 miles away in Lincolnshire. Thoughts of everyone working hard at RBP soon evaporated in the heat however, as I looked down from the mountain, my mind quickly turning to how I was going to get back to my car parked just over eight miles away in Braemore, and more importantly how I was going to get back to my in-laws house for dinner in approximately three hours at 5pm sharp! With the view duly photographed and a rock added to the small cairn, a rapid descent followed as I slid, bumped and stumbled my way down, the dog periodically turning to scowl at me for this ‘walkies from hell’!!
It’s funny how the outward journey always seems to take less time than the return, but with chocolate and ‘Scooby snacks’ fuelling us, we made it back to the car, and with a quick phone call to explain my whereabouts, immediately decamped to the pub. An elderly local couple reckoned we’d walked about 18 miles! That pint never stood a chance!
Posted by Antony Creative on 09 Sep 2010 at 17:26
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