All good things must come to an end, even a round of Munros. Although my second round seems to have run longer than Tony Blair’s premiership. Never the less 20 Glenmorons of good standing and a few best not mentioned assembled in the car park at Lagangarbh and set off up Stob Dearg on Buachaille Etive Mor, on what was a very windy day. Wind was the main feature of what was best done at speed and not protracted for any reason such as lunch, waiting for others or humanity. So much for the Dunkirk spirit!

We assembled at about 700m in the shelter of some rocks and put on crampons and helmets, if carried. At this point Mary Cox announced that she had left her’s in the car. Left them I tell you, not forgotten. So she went back down after a token examination of the slope. This was the right decision as three chaps without crampons were sitting at the bottom of the snow pitch slightly phased after varying severities of slides in the difficult conditions.

Sandy Donald also without crampons disappeared at this point only to reappear at the top without anyone seeing what he did. Such are the mysteries of the SMC.

The final push to the summit was taken as briskly as the weather allowed. At the top congratulations were exchanged, although it is possible I congratulated the wrong person clad in Paramo and failed to make contact with Alice. Some cake, spirits, Champagne and pleasantries were exchanged or blown away by the weather.

John D and I decided that a swift descent at least to the bottom of the snow patch was called for before it became too cluttered. So back down to the car where Mary Cox had eaten my plums. Some people are not to be trusted with your valuables.

That night we were all invited round to Alice and David’s for a celebratory part and the food was excellent although the highlight might have been watching a lunar eclipse that Alice had arranged for 10pm till midnight. So well done and next time lets hope for better weather.

Gordon