My pal Steve Begley (aka Begsy) had been talking about coming up to Scotland for as long as I can remember, and certainly as long as I have been tramping the mountains for a living. There always seemed to be a reason why it should be put off, but finally last week, he made the drive North. He is used to walking in the Lakes and especially North Wales, as he lives just over the border off the M55, but this was his first taste of proper a Scottish winter.

We decided on an ascent of the Buachaille Etive Beag, affectionately know as the 'Wee Buachaille', which sits alongside his more illustrious brother at the head of Glen Coe. Storm Doris was due to wreak havoc a little further South, and I calculated that balancing the forecasts, we should be situated in the lull between the lows, and indeed the MWIS forecast concurred. We knew there would be a fall of snow overnight, so wanted a route relatively free of avalanche risk, that had alternatives if necessary, would be sheltered from prevailing wind, and with a couple of nice summits to boot. The plan worked.

We were relatively off-piste initially, as the path was impossible to find under the snow. We used someone else's tracks for a time, but they were heading up the glen, so had to break our own trail. Steve is fit, so we ploughed upwards confident we would find the shallow gully to follow that led to the bealach between the peaks, and soon we did. An hour or so later we were on flatter ground, where we paused before turning left and picking off summit number one after some deep wading in the pathless drifts of fresh powder snow. Stob Coire Raineach 925m, and Begsy's first munro!

We then retraced our steps and tackled the longer ascent of Stob Dubh, the second munro on this mountain, higher at 958m, and at the end of an undulating ridge adorned with deep drifts and cornices. The wind was almost none-existent at this point, and we were pleased to have snatched such a great and atmospheric winter's day. On the way down we greeted the only other pair on the hill that day, before breaking trail down the path that we could now locate OK and onward to the car.

Friday had a better forecast, and after some planning in the Clachaig, (well, you have to, don't you?), we settled on Ben Nevis by the Pony Track. This may be a straightforward if long 1300m ascent in summer, but in winter is an adventure. As we set off from Achintee, we passed some crazy foreign skiers who carried their skis to the halfway lochan, then bumped and scraped to the Red Burn cutting, before managing to shush up to the summit. Fair play to them, but it looked hard work to me, and the descent was strewn with boulders!

Due to the poor visibility over 800m, it was simply a case of head down and work, and this we did, faint old prints making my job easier. There was just a fraction of the folks that can be found on this path, so the conditions had something going for them! ;) We did pass a group of Welsh guys with more kit and gadgets than I have ever seen, and we giggled as he authoritatively announced that we had done X thousand-odd steps, and there therefore at position Y. I pointed out that maybe his step counter might be compromised by the snowy conditions, and his mates looked at each other, and then remonstrated loudly. It was funny. The safety cairns of the plateau were just visible in the cloud, and I pointed out the dangers at the top of Gardyloo Gully, before we arrived triumphant at the summit.

We had a quick bite to eat and then set off down very quickly, as both our hands got very cold indeed almost immediately due to our damp base layers, so we all but ran the first half an hour to warm up. After some minor hot-aches, we enjoyed the easy and soft descent, and then over the splendid new path that the guys are still working on, and which is to be applauded as it was sorely needed. We got to the car in a very respectable 6hrs and 10mins.

So thanks to Begsy for his company, and hope to see him for some more bagging adventures.....will he get the bug? ;)

Working on the Ben Lui group this weekend for Steven Fallon Mountain Guides, alongside Emma O'Shea. We had a great group, who braved the unseasonably warm and wet conditions to climb Ben Lui, Beinn a'Chleibh, Beinn Dubhcraig and Beinn Oss. Oh, and Moss the dog led most of the way............

I spent a very interesting day today on a Mountain Training Association CPD day run by the incomparable Dr. Al McGowan. We covered about 10 miles that crossed the second highest hill in the Pentlands (Carnethy), exploring the geology, geomorphology and history of human activity in the Pentlands, as well as path building on a path which Al worked on in the late 90's.

Al is an absolute wealth of knowledge in all things rocky, (as well as a good few things besides), and oozes enthusiasm for his subject. His aim was to open our eyes to the landscape through which we passed, and I found it fascinating. He runs his company along these lines too, which can be found at https://hillsofhame.wordpress.com/, and I heartily recommend him if you would like to know a little more about what is below our feet and all around us, and how it came to look as it does today.

A little more workaday was looking at the path Al had built as part of a team in the late 90's, how it had fared through the ravages of time and many feet, the features that path builders employ to channel water, and indeed how much care is taken to reduce the possibility of injury to users. We use many miles of the fruits of someone's labour, and usually pay little heed to them - Al's explanations opened our eyes to the thought and effort that goes into them.

Finally, we just had a nice walk through a well-used but very pleasant part of the East Lothian countryside, our freshly-trained eyes spotting igneous rock and fault lines in abundance. We even saw a peregrine falcon, (Al's first in the Pentlands), giving a buzzard a right old going over with dramatic, swooping dives.

Thanks to everyone for their company, and Al for a good day out.  

I have been talking with my friend Mike for some time about a winter trip out, along with Max, his dog. The remit was a 'challenge', with an iconic summit, and maybe a night out. We decided on Ben Macdui from the Sugarbowl, descending to the Lairig Ghru where we would either camp or use the Corrour, returning along the Ghru the next day, through the Chalamein Gap and back to the bowl. The weather had other ideas however. The snow of the weekend had subsided, but the wind was strong, too strong, blowing hard from the east initially, and then coming around to the south, making Plan A impossible.

Plan B was to 'just' do the Lairig Ghru, hoping that the southerly wind would assist our return, but it quickly became apparent that it had swung from the east already, and was blowing into our faces. We had battled over the flank of Creag a'Chalamein rather than wade in the very deep powder and windslab, (also aware of the avalanche forecast and the tragedy there some years before, as the slope was loaded), and then had to run the gauntlet of stinging spindrift that soaked us, and caked poor Max with ice. By the time we got to the burn crossing, we knew the game was up. The wind was howling up the lairig, and even to make the Pools of Dee in the deep drifts would have been strength sapping with our heavy packs. It had taken us 3 hrs just to get that far, so a tactical retreat was inevitable. We couldn't commit to the distance in those conditions.

As we walked out, we benefited from the shelter of the higher hills, and they took on a benign aspect in the beautiful late afternoon sunshine. The snow-devils and plumes of spindrift told of the reality on high though. Our eyes were drawn to Ryvoan bothy through the pass, and to Meall a'Buachaille to its right, or our left as we stared. That would make a nice spot for the night. So that's what we did to make the best of the situation. We walked along the path towards Strath Nethy, past the Green Lochan (An Lochan Uaine), and the lovely Scots pines resplendent in the golden sunset. We met two lads who had over-nighted at Ryvoan after a mini epic on Bynack Mor - Their eyes told of the challenging time they had had. 'It was wild' they said, and who were we to disagree! I congratulated them on their effort.

When we got to Ryvoan, there were already two folks there, Sam and Alex, who were doing some lower-level walks from the comfort of the bothy, and we spent a convivial evening chatting and sharing our 'bothy tea' ;) I had carried coal and a fire log in, and they were as pleased as we were with the fire, contributing by some energetic chopping at some firewood left in the outhouse bit. It was a lot of effort for Sam for not a lot of wood, but he was happy that it kept him warm.

After a beautiful evening with Venus shining like the brightest of torches and the moon competing adeptly to fill the night with light, the wind got up again. Max barked and growled as the door rattled with each gust - I suspect in Hoddesdon a rattling door has more sinister implications, and he was just doing his job :) The wind did make me lose more sleep about what to do to salvage a good day out of tomorrow though?

I needn't have worried. The day dawned all but cloudless, and the expanse of the Cairngorm massif gave us such shelter that we were able to summit Meall a'Buachaille at 810m without even a jacket at times. We had a relaxed ascent, our packs lighter for fuel, food and water, and lingered on the summit chatting and having a snack. The views were spectacular, the savagery of the summits only being hinted at by huge snow-devils of spindrift as they glinted in the sun. The descent was by the (relatively) new path along the burn and back to the car for a well-earned pint in the (relatively) new pub, the Pine Marten. 

As seems to have been a pattern this winter, (and indeed most winters of course), you rarely get to achieve your objectives in full. What is important is to experience, to learn, and most of all, to enjoy. Mike, Max and I did all three! Thanks for your company.

Working for Steven Fallon Mountain Guides this weekend in the hills around Glenshee. The plan was to do at least 7, and even 9 munros, but the weather had other ideas. Heavy snowfall, followed by strong winds meant we had to make alternative plans, but we still had a great couple of days.