In order to confirm the worst suspicions of the critics of bagging, I will start by saying that I reached my target of 100 new Marilyns in 2003, and indeed beat this target by the huge margin of two. This was helped by the Ludlow weekend, a real glut by my standards - 25 in 75 hours - almost all being thoroughly enjoyable. The biggest exception was the flat, wooded and brambly 'summit' of Burton Hill, which almost justified the hand-written sign nearby, 'you might as well just go home'. But to those who make scathing comments about bagging, I can reply that Marilyn bagging has expanded my horizons, not reduced them. Is it really a sign of great discernment when someone joins a queue on Helvellyn for the 11th time, when they could be enjoying a beautiful and peaceful morning on Grayrigg Forest? And anyway, most baggers aren't just baggers; I spent a pleasant day on and around Shutlingsloe when I could have been increasing my tally, and there was a repeat visit to Great How above Eskdale, which isn't in any list I've ever seen. Of the 102, perhaps the best was Sgurr a'Mhaim in the Mamores, in the late afternoon sun in March, and close on its heels the wonderful high ridge of Druim Fiaclach, with the most comfortable of summits (a dry mossy seat), on the way to Sgurr na Ba Glaise. From Rois-Bheinn, being in the company of non-baggers, An Stac was avoided and we descended by a route which Richard Webb might remember; I wish I'd read the description on his website beforehand.
Druim Fiaclach
Some of the duller hills were spiced up a little by their GOML reputations, but I had no major encounters, though returning from Mynydd Rhyd-ddu after dark I did make every effort to sneak past the two dogs tied to kennels before they got scent of me. It would have been a shame to worry the people in the house, and besides, I wasn't sure how long the dog leads were. There were some entertaining GOML signs on the way to Blake Fell, and some surprisingly subtle ones below Brown Willy, implying dire consequences if one stepped off the path. I would have thought that an adder is more likely to be encountered on a path, basking in the sun, than in the shadows of the rougher ground, and are the bogs of Bodmin Moor really fearsome and dangerous, capable of swallowing innocent tourists whole? As for the fragile ecology, it seems to cope with grazing ponies and their hooves.
I finished the year on 222, double Nelson, and I am glad I don't share umpire Shepherd's superstitions; new year in the Ponds would have been difficult on one foot. This year it is going to be harder to maintain progress, what with family commitments and a dearth of new Marilyns within really easy reach. It may be necessary to resort to more sneaky detours 'on the way' to other destinations. No fewer than 26 of 2003's bag were visited in this way, including five south of London on the way from Leeds to Essex (a bit Chestertonian, though not 'by way of Beachy Head'), and another five associated with the AGM of the Mountain Bothies Association. Come to think, I have a lawnmower to pick up from Dorset, and a nephew at Heriot-Watt University...
Rather a quiet year but still 50 new Marilyns. As possibly the most southerly based Marilynist it's getting more difficult to bag new ones. I hope to get out of the cellar this year and then may have to settle for the lounge (see Marhofn 93). I did manage to knock off region 37 en route to eastern Scotland, so that meant I was also able to ascend my 37th and final (according to TACit Tables) English county top (The Wolds, in my native Lincolnshire). Two enjoyable short trips to south Wales meant I completed 32C and most of 31C. I had lovely views from Mynydd Carningli and Mynydd Machen, with the autumn sun lighting up the bracken-covered slopes across the valley. Other enjoyable walks and viewpoints were Ben Vrackie (6B), Millstone Hill and Bennachie (21B) and West Lomond (26).
I managed a goodly 68 this year, bringing me halfway to the Hall on Caer Caradoc (38A) in a snowstorm on 21 December 2003. There are still many hills to go before the Hall, but at least I feel I've climbed out of the cellar now and am crossing the kitchen floor to the Corridor.
As usual, ascents have ranged from Cornwall to Skye. I was pleased to complete the last of the Marilyns in my ancestral county in April (Kit Hill in region 40). May was designated for a return to Skye and a few more Black Cuillin, but the weather and other circumstances conspired against me. My companions got themselves benighted in awful weather after an attempt on the Dubh ridge. I had (wisely) not fancied it and spent most of the night in a mix of worry and phoning mountain rescue. They all got back safely after an enjoyable helicopter ride. I did manage a few lower Marilyns in the time that was left, including the fine Dun Caan on Raasay. Unlike Dr Johnson, I refrained from dancing a jig on the summit.
Ireland in June brought a memorable day in the company of a Dubliner of vast hill knowledge on Lugnaquillia, followed by a mad dash across to the Galtees next day. The trip was enough of a taster to tempt me back soon - but rather a distraction to UK Marilyn bagging, unless we count Irish hills (I can claim five now) in our totals. I also spent a long and marvellous day on Carmarthen Fan - now my favourite hills at the bottom end of my adopted country. In July I was busy in the Highlands and in Yorkshire, netting Marilyn Munros, Corbetts and Hewitts. August was a month of mountains, but none of them Marilyns because they were in Switzerland and France. My, there's some listing that needs doing in these two countries! I feel myself tempted - listing the 150m-drop summits in the Ecrins/Oisans region would be a fitting challenge to tempt me back there again.
A trip to the eastern Cairngorms followed in September. This area just grows and grows in my impressions the more I go there - which is as often as possible. Such a contrast to the Alps, but just as stupendous. October was devoted to the Southern Uplands and Galloway, with a few more Grahams to meet my annual target grabbed to and from a business trip to Glasgow. Then began the grim grey slide to Christmas, with only a few outings possible amidst the never-ending trudge of Christmas shopping. I always try to look on this time for the earning of brownie points, but then my patience snaps and I lose them all again.