This day meet started at the familiar meeting place of the Kinghouse car park with the equally familiar attention of the end of summer midge population. This encouraged a rapid departure from the car-park which contributed to the unfortunate circumstance of Ingrid and a potential new member who was delayed in getting away from Glasgow arriving to an empty car-park. They made the best of it by going up Beinn a ‘Chrulaiste at the back of the Kingshouse and were later magnanimous about their abandonment.

David and Colin Farrow went for an adventurous circum-perambulation of the Lost Valley which they left by way of the ‘Zig-Zag’ route. They were not the first to find the start of this route a little obscure and reported their tactics as being to get to the top of the first ‘Zig’ and then retrace it to make sure they were really at the beginning! Doesn’t make much sense does it? But it seems to have worked because they reported an excellent tour over Coire Nam Lochan, Bidean Bian, Sgreamnach and Beinn Fhada with a steep ascent back into the Lost Valley – all done at their traditional rapid pace.

Another group consisted of Dave Webster, Isobel Freeman, Brian McDaid and Tim Mason. They headed down Glen Etive for ‘the first Corbett on the left’ – known to the cognoscenti as Beinn Mhic Chasgaig. This route used to have the added obstacle of a 2m high locked gate at the bridge over the Etive river and Tim and Brian regaled their appreciative audience (themselves) with stories of hairy traverses over the raging torrent and the pesky gentry’s barbed wire impediments. Fortunately they didn’t have to repeat any of these SAS tactics as, in these more democratic times, the gate is left unlocked and our friends were able to pass peaceably onwards. They had no need for the wired descent to a ‘single plank bridge’ as described in the Corbett’s guide as they skipped across the burn into a narrow glen which Peter Hodgkiss imaginatively describes as ‘so narrow and steep sided as to have the atmosphere, if not the scale, of a Himalayan defile’. They then opted for a path beside the Allt Coire Ghuisbhasan and up to the eastern col beside their mountain, past sets of water-peeled pink granite slabs with enticing pools between. Their descent down the NNE ridge required a slippy and boot soaking crossing of the river which enabled them to squelch back to the car while admiring the antics of the cut-down, fair-ground canoes and their determined occupants as they descended the Etive’s rock steps.

Now Harrold Thomson is a remarkable fellow and a reminder of many ancient traditions – such as going to a Sunday meet by public transport! The great man had got himself down to Buchanan Street bus station at 6.30 and was up with the Fort William bus to meet up the moribund motorists in the party. He got together with Mary Cox and Liz Maitland to take the eastern road past Black Corries lodge to explore the attractions of Stob Na Cruaiche. The maturity of our club is well demonstrated by the fact that we have such a group of seasoned sophisticates who are able to appreciate the pleasures of these remote ‘Grahams’. These are mountains for those whose are prepared to take their montane pleasures at a steady and respectful pace, thus savouring the lingering satisfaction of their subtle magnificence. One can only be grateful to be able to sit in mindful appreciation of such an expedition as one absorbs the historic ambience of the Kingshouse lounge bar. Just long enough to make sure that Harrold has a lift down to the bus-stop to get back on the Glesca bus!

And so to the final outing which was lead by a budding Munroist who, having recently completed her Skye Munros has the bit firmly between her teeth. Janet Gaywood ensured that her party of Monica Farrow, Stephen Rodgers and Henry Perfect did not miss out on the great Buachaille of Glencoe as she led them over the ridge to the Munro of the far Stob Na Broige. The intrepid party then returned by a descent over the slithy stones of the ‘Royal Forest’ into the depths of the Lairig Eildhe – a passage oft appreciated for beguiling symmetry from the cosy confines of the roadside in Glencoe and then regretted for its unrelinquishing and miresome muir. By such experiences we must surely grow!!

So another fine day was had by all and the impoverished nature of the ‘real’ ale of the Kingshouse could be put into proper perspective.

Your humble servant,

Tim Mason