13 is usually my lucky number, but

           was setting off on a winter’s morning

                                 to go to the high tops

                                        with 13

                                        pushing my luck

                                                             too far?

The warm sunshine on our backs made it feel like Spring as we climbed steadily up the sustained but soft grassy slopes towards the higher snow. Low morning sun peeped over the Mamores to catch the tops of Ben Nevis sparkling in their white covers. Up and over the first top and dancing on crampon tips to reach the beautifully formed wee cairn atop Aonach Beag. Down then without lingering into the thicker mist to find scant shelter from the wind for our lunch stop. Then trudging uncertainly up the wide flank, spreading out our eyes, seeking out the grey cone. And then, oh joy! The summit cairn emerges floating in a blank white backdrop.

Cheery waves from the traversing crew (expectant with comfort from sustaining drinks – hot or cold! – at the café, and a gentle glide on the gondola to the foot) as we 3 turn determinedly, disappearing into thick air to retrace our steps. They should be so lucky!

Our prospects seem more uncertain as we carefully plot a course through that blank space that offers no horizon, creeping gently and warily past the edges of the beckoning cornices, gratefully passing our bare lunch spot, and willing tired legs up to our final top. We check our route – no reassuring footprints to confirm our direction, but the wind blasting our faces, the sun winking thru’ the thinning fog, crampons biting in to crisp snow, the best of the day. And finally the misty curtains open and all is clear – just as we pass close to a towering cliff rising from a yawning gap!

Serendipity smiles on our efforts

            and we sit in peaceful awe and reflection

                       in front of a stunning view of the Ben and the Arête,

                                 seemingly briefly put on show just for us.

            In this grand arena we feel so small

                               …………………but so 

                                                                               lucky.

Stay lucky.

Postscript - the not so lucky ones (Garry and Rosie Whyte, Colin Farrow, John McPartlin, Kate Stewart, Veronica McDermaid, Hugh Bourhill and Arthur Whitaker) found the Gondola "off" and the café shut! Ingrid and Bill McIntyre found some good high snow to practise skills in.

The weather helped to make it a great day for all parties :

* The Stevens and David Aitchison walked from Fassfern to Corpach by the scenic route up Gleann Suileag and over Druim Fada

* Ruth Keighley, Brian McDaid, Madelaine Easton and Isobel Freeman travelled to Glen Sheil to have a brilliant day on Sgurr na Sgine and Sgurr a Bhae Chodais

* John Anderson, Liz Maitland, Tim Mason and David Foster completed the stunning round of Sgurr na Glaise, Ruis Bheinn an An Stac with fabulus clear views especially west.

* Alastair Mclean, as befits his youth and energy, had a most memorable weekend climbing with Alan Kimber on the Aonachs on Sat. and a stunning route on Stob Coire nan Lochan on Sun.

The split accommodation of the Smiddy Bunkhouse added extra interest to the Weekend in the opportunity to hop from one scene to the other. Further added value came in the form of 2 young female visitors from the far south who had found themselves without a roof over their heads. We seem to attract waifs and strays. I hope they spread our undoubted fine reputation far and wide!

Friday had provided an opportunity for some (lucky!) few to bag Bheinn Bhan, just north of Corpach in very favourable weather, but Sunday’s prospects were wet and windy. Plenty set off with plans but were forced to abandon them. Only those heading for the Hogwart Express in Glenfinnan battled to the top of Sgurr an Utha and Fraoch-bheinn through foul weather and foul reek from dampened heath fires. No broomsticks or warlocks were sighted, only 2 ptarmigan in pure white outfits. Mind you, if they can do an owl……………….

Mary Cunningham