Blackrock Cottage, Glen Coe

28-31 May 1999

Present: Steve E, Debbie K, Mark L, Heidi P, Steve R, Brian S

Present: All sorts of people from all over the place. There was that old chap from Aberdeen, Sir Brian Shackleton or summit. Some other dude goes by the name Gordon. An Australian Sheila would you believe, with an Austrian name, sounds a bit unlikely to me Heidi. From that neck of the globe a Kiwi called Steve. Steve and Debbie were almost certainly there too. For sure I was there and all sorts of others I guess. You know who you are.

The weather on the Saturday morning was simply embarrassing. Rain, like antipodeans expect in Scotland. Rain like we hate. Then, some more rain arrived. Pretty cold and windy too. Not the perfect highlands I’d promised everyone.

By afternoon the downpour had subsided and we were all itching to get out. That cabin fever is a terrible thing. A huge gang of us, well about five or so, slipped into our respective running pants and scantily dressed set of for a jog along the West Highland Way. Gordon joined us for a bit of the way, but turned back to pick up the troop transporter and drive round to the end of the world. Heidi, Steve, Steve and I had a magic, blustery, atmospheric and scenic run across the wild moor and down to the bridge at the Inverornan. So good in fact that yours truly turned around and ran all the way back again! It was great on the way out, but needless to say a bit of an epic into the wind on the homeward leg – should’ve taken the transporter. Brian, I believe had lunch with the devil at his staircase and then went as far along the ridge to the normal start to the Aonach Eagach. Others for sure walked somewhere deep in the glen. They all had fun, there can be no doubt about that.

For a novel evening Brian, Steve, Heidi and I hopped into the yellow peril and scooshed down the road to that old stalwart Dave B’s ceilidh come party affair. Then, later, we scooshed back up to the hut!

Sunday was marginal. Not in a bad way, the hard decision was whether the reasonably sunny start to the day was going to be enough to dry out the rock after the overnight deluge. We wimped out. Instead a mass assault of the Aonach Eagach was undertaken. And what an assault. We were not alone. Word had leaked out just how good that fine ridge is and it was heaving with boys and girls (most of whom Steve the Kiwi invited to the BBQ in a few weeks time… errr, none came). Beautiful weather and fantastic mountains – a Scotland we can all be proud of at last!

The antipodes and I, being in a holiday sort of mood stayed up for the Sunday evening. An early rise and Scottish start (like Alpine but later) had us up at Rannoch Wall before anyone else in the world. We cruised the classic Agag’s Groove (Steve’s first ever climb and Heidi’s first multi-pitch). It was a perfect climb in perfect weather. We were half way up the route before we saw anyone else. We were on the summit of the Big One for lunch. We were back in the car in two shakes of a lambs thingy. We flew down the road to Auld Reekie. Five minutes later the train whisked our antipodean friends off to that London place. They must have been buzzing. Scotland in the sunshine – something to be proud of, even if it has very occasional embarrassing weather!

Mark Litterick