Each year I like to accomplish a long-distance walk somewhere in Britain, and in the last few years the country of choice has been my adopted one of Scotland. I first did a coast-to-coast walk in Britain way back in 1985, when I took part in what was then somewhat grandly called 'The Ultimate Challenge' (sponsored by a now-defunct gear company), but is now rather more prosaically known as the 'TGO Challenge'. On that occasion I included a dozen Munros and Corbetts during my west to east crossing. Since then I have made several other independent coast-to-coast journeys on foot and by bicycle, but a long-held ambition was to walk from the furthest point west on the Scottish mainland to the furthest east. A crossing during late April and early May proved a good choice, for the weather was generally pretty kind, apart from a couple of snow and hail showers. On this crossing I climbed ten new Marilyns, including a remote Corbett, a Graham and a scattering of lower Marilyns, along with a traverse of the Bennachie range in the east, a wee gem that I had somehow missed on previous visits to the area. On reaching Keith Inch in Peterhead I had completed my tenth coast-to-coast trek on foot across Britain.
Since 2004 Beryl and I have made an annual pilgrimage to the Scottish islands, and in 2010 we returned to the Western Isles. We had enjoyed good weather in 2007 and 2009, so were rather fearing the worst when we drove up to Ullapool in late May, as surely this year these islands would dish out more than their fair share of rain and hill fog. But no, again we had struck lucky, and revelled in long days of sunshine and dry conditions underfoot. For our first week we were joined by fellow Marilyn bagger Eric Hardman and together we explored the best that Lewis has to offer; the rocky and rough Uig hills and the sheer joy of all the remote hills of the Pairc region.
Last year Beryl and I were fortunate to be part of the trip organised by Graham Illing to the five Marilyn islands to the south of Barra. This year it was the turn of the 'non-ferry' islands off Harris, but first we were to visit Scotland's most remote island group, St Kilda. Last year Graham ordered low winds and bright conditions, but in 2010 he surpassed himself by booking a day-long boat trip to St Kilda on what must have been one of the year's best days of sunshine, clear skies and relatively gentle winds. To visit St Kilda had been a life-long dream for us, but we always thought that if we did make it out there, we would be greeted by dense fog and be as sick as pigs on the turbulent ocean waves. The day-trip is not a cheap one, but it was worth every penny to visit the islands in such glorious weather. The coastal scenery is undoubtedly some of the best on offer in all of Britain. There was just enough time, in the four and a half hours allotted to us on Hirta, to bag Conachair and also climb the two Humps of Oisebhal and Mullach Bi, whilst dodging numerous bonxie swoops on the way, and return to the village to explore the old settlement, before leaving for a tour around Boreray and the sea stacks. I can think of few more dramatic locations in Britain than this remote corner of our islands. Any vague ideas that I had previously harboured about one day bagging these gigantic lumps of rock in the Atlantic were dashed that afternoon. Even getting a foothold on any of them would be beyond me. But I was so, so glad to have seen them and experienced their majesty on such a perfect day.
My good luck was to know no bounds on this trip. The following day Beryl and I were relaxing in the splendid independent Am Bothan hostel in Leverburgh, chatting to a local boat owner. He told us that he often went to the Shiant Islands and only that afternoon was booked to take a professional photographer to spend a few days camping on the islands to photograph the hordes of puffins there.
I thought no more of it until, a few minutes before midday, he poked his head into the hostel: 'Fancy a trip to the Shiants', he asked. I looked up, a little startled at the offer. 'When?', I asked. 'Now!' was the reply. Ten minutes later Julie and I were heading out of Leverburgh bumping across the sea to Scalpay, where we took on board the fee-paying photographer, and then, next stop the Shiants. Lucky or what? And naturally it was a splendid, dry, clear and brilliantly sunny afternoon. I was tempted to reveal the identity of the man who offered me this free boat trip, as a way of saying a grateful thank you, but I wouldn't want him to be bothered by Marilyn baggers or anyone else in the hope that they too will get a free ride. The locals are very hard working and need to earn all they can from the short season; my good fortune was just that, due to the generosity of the boatman and being in the right place at the right time, and no one should expect such a free trip.
The day after the Shiants it was the turn of Pabbay, in the Sound of Harris, and Scarp, the island made famous for its 'rocket post', an idea that floundered before it had hardly begun in 1934. The landing on Pabbay was a bit of a challenge for Seamus and his clients, but despite the difficulties we were all expertly landed and taken back on board safely, after we had bagged the highest point of this rather disappointing island. Scarp was of much more interest, but for once the weather did not behave and Sron Romul was shrouded in mist and drizzle. The following day this temporary blip passed over and all was sunshine and blue skies for our day on the 'Castaway' island, Taransay. This was my last Western Isles Marilyn, so all 71 are now in the bag for me. I will need another excuse in the future to visit these outstanding islands, which we have come to love so much during the last few years.
But island bagging was not yet over for the year, as we left Harris for Uig in Skye early the next morning to join the boat trip to Scalpay, again organised so efficiently by Graham. All went smoothly and a dozen or more of us enjoyed a warm and sunny afternoon climbing the two summits on the island, with great views over to Skye. The group split up in Broadford, with Beryl and I, along with Eric Hardman, camping for a couple of nights at Sligachan (perhaps this was a mistake as the midges had re-grouped after the winter freeze and were out in fighting force early morning and late in the evening). It was hard to believe that any improvement in the weather could have taken place on the Saturday, but it did, to produce one of those rare but magical days in the western hills; the fifth of June was a 'cracker' (as one of my old friends would say) on Skye, and Eric and I chose a 'belter' (another common word with my northern friend) of a Skye round, to bag Belig, Garbh-bheinn, Ruadh Stac and Marsco, so completing all of my island Corbetts and Grahams. A couple of lower Marilyns near Sligachan on the following day made it 30 new island Marilyns added during an outstanding two-week trip.
Ruadh Stac, with Garbh Bheinn and Bla Bheinn (photo: Alan Dawson)
My campaign to climb the Corbetts and Grahams then began in earnest on my annual two-week solo trip to the Highlands. This provides Beryl with time at home to relax and do her own thing and for me to walk in the hills for as long as I wish, pleasing no one except myself. I always savour my solo trips to the hills, a time of complete freedom and joy just to be alone in our marvellous mountainscape; alone yes, but never lonely, a distinction that some people cannot understand, and are the poorer for it. Once more, the weather in the west in the last two weeks of June was generally very good. Indeed my first four days were just as I like them; dry, warm (hot even), clear and sunny. I put them to good use on outings above Glen Etive and in the hills around Glenfinnan, before moving on to the north-west highlands, my favourite area in Britain. Five nights based at the super wee campsite in Lochcarron allowed for days in the Applecross hills and other nearby ranges, including a long but superb day bagging Beinn Dronaig and Beinn Tharsuinn in one expedition in the wilderness area east of Attadale. Finally, I returned to my beloved Torridon to bag more unclimbed peaks, including Beinn Dearg, which had somehow eluded me in the past. I am so glad that this has retained it status as the highest Corbett rather than being promoted to the lowest Munro; on a gorgeous warm and sunny day, the last in June 2010, I had this marvellous ridge all to myself, whilst others scurried up the nearby giants.
Alva Glen in the Ochils (photo: Alan Dawson)
The day after my return at the beginning of July the rain started, and seemed to hardly stop after that (Dumfries and Galloway had two and a half times its July average of rainfall in 2010). Other shorter Marilyn trips included a three-night stay in Dunfermline Travelodge (a bargain at £19 for the two of us per night) from which we made several forays into the local hills, bagging nine new Marilyns and also increasing my tally of the 300m tops of the Ochils to a respectable 38 summits. Lists such as these provide an excellent framework on which to base a thorough exploration of a fairly compact hill range. I had only previously climbed the highest major summits in the Ochils, Donalds and Donald Deweys, but I was to learn that this group of hills had much more to offer than I had previously thought. They remind me too of my hills of home in the Southern Uplands.
I find quite a few of my local lower Marilyns to be uninspiring, not warranting a day out in the hills, but I have realised that one way over this problem is to combine a walk of a hour or two to bag such hills with a day's cycle ride, so combining my two major outdoor passions. Grange Fell east of Locherbie and Fell Hill near Moniaive both dropped into my new Marilyn sack on such cycle-walking outings during the year.
With 85 new Marilyns during the year (beating my previous highest annual score by one), I was more than pleased. I now have 413 left to go (plus five in the St Kilda wall); just over a Corridor's worth of Marilyns, and these will hopefully provide many new adventures in the future and help to top up the memory coffers; this, for me, is what peakbagging is all about.
