David Foster, Janet Gaywood, Tim Mason, Monica Farrow, Stella Lowder

First, which road? Given that we are arriving late with clear skies permitting plummeting temperatures, should we go ‘over the top’ or the long way round? Having chosen the short cut, we were relieved to find no black ice and only patches of snow on the hills near the top.

Second, find your bunkhouse in the pitch dark with side tracks of doubtful car worthiness and lights twinkling some distance away. The bunk house track is only accessible travelling westward, given its acute angle to the road; it threads between solid rock bluff and a rushy stream somewhere below, past an elegant house with all its lights blazing with a house party, to a string of cottages behind.

Third, the arrangements: The owner turned out to welcome us and the bunkhouse is surprisingly comfortable, having been their previous home until children dictated their shift to the larger previous B&B next door. Even better, Tim and Janet were in residence in a front room heated by wood stove, rather full of comfortable armchairs but with the teapot at the ready on the coffee table, plus some sustaining plum cake. The kitchen and bathroom were of modern home standard, the 6 bunks were a bit cramped in the bedroom.

Fourth, the hills: The mist was low on the hills but we set off on a very cold morning for Inverar, Janet leading with Munroe bagging intent. The ‘polite notice’ at the parking space tells one that hills are places of solitude and that if the 8 spaces are occupied, one should go somewhere else! However, the notice on the gate just asks one to close it and there were stiles on all subsequent ones if the bolts were obdurate. Plenty of water in the river testified to the recent thaw, as did the soggy ground; indeed there was little evidence of snow on the ridge to and from Carn Gorm in the west. The strong wind from the south very considerately kept the mist penned up to the north of the hills or just wafting across the cols, until we had completed three of the peaks. We only saw two other parties all day; for the most part the sun, the views and the hills were all ours. We kept moving, aware of the shortness of daylight; indeed Stella and Monica cut out the last top in the east (and we didn’t even feel guilty!) in the interest of descending before the gloaming gave way. The woods were alive with an owl conference prior to setting off on their hunting.

Fifth, recovery and celebration: Being unsure of the kitchen arrangements, a cordon bleu communal meal had been planned, with carrot and coriander (freshly chopped) soup, followed by Tim’s quinoa pilaf with cauliflower curry, toped off with home grown currents and apple crumble. Of course this was washed down with a mulled wine apéritive and several other bottles. As a late comer, it was only fair that I washed up. We slept well.

Sixth, what next? Desiring a less strenuous/lengthy day but still with bagging in mind, we headed for loch Daimh and the starting point for Meall Buidhe, meekly following the estate map of the route (but not that for Cam Chreag which suggests you approach from the east entailing a lengthy walk in). The ground was very mushy with small snow patches and a strengthening wind. It was generally overcast with poor visibility and there were hordes of walkers. The top was too windy to stay for more than a hurried bite in a dip and we soon lost the others when we struck off east for the Corbett. Here shelter had allowed a steep slope of hard compact snow, ideal for trying out my new crampons, which made a huge difference to the old strap and prey version. On the lower ground the snow sheltered in the peat haggs was a positive advantage as one could thread one’s way through very broken ground quite smoothly for some distance. The top (when not delayed by thinking the first is it) is most satisfying, with a precipitous drop to the east and nothing to tempt one further in any direction. We kept to the higher ground on the SW ridge as far as possible on descent to a track and the car park over what must be a pretty awful slog across bog in wetter/warmer weather.

Seventh, conclusions: A wonderful weekend spent in excellent company in good accommodation. However, THE short-coming of the bunkhouse is the absence of a drying room which fortunately we did not need. It does provided a heated rack, but it is hard to see where one could put it, given the shortage of floor space. Also the bowls were designed for very delicate appetites of 2 spoonfuls- not Glenmoron soup and cereal portions. We also found that the mattress on one bunk was painfully thin- but we didn’t have to use it. The latter points were made to the owner.