Hardly Heroic in the Highlands

Saturday, 10th December 2017

Early mornings are always fun, with the city still drunkenly asleep. Streets are deserted and alight with the dull orange glow of pre-dawn. At 5AM my alarm goes off, I shower and shuffle the last of my gear together. Sipping industrial strength coffee I cooked a simple breakfast and set off into the damp darkness. Meeting up with the others, we had more room than expected, so we picked up my bike and set off at 6:30AM for Scotland.

It was a good drive, spaciously seated in a van with Rosa, Eben, Adam, Ed, and myself.  While drifting in and out of sleep we journeyed ever Northward, jamming to a mixture of good music. We arrived at 7PM, and settled into Nethy Station, a great bunkhouse in Nethy Bridge, Scotland, near the Northern border of the Cairngorms National Park. It has multiple rooms lined with comfortable bunks, fully stocked kitchen, drying room, plenty of bathrooms (with showers), games, TV, and more. We settled in, made some plans with our guide Graeme Ettle before retreating to the comforts of our bunks.

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Sunday, 11th December 2017

6:30AM Alarms erupt from bunks

7:00AM shoddy breakfast on sad gluten free bread

8:00AM HYPE HYPE FIRST DAY IN SCOTLAND. Guide is here, and we’re rolling out for Glenmore Forest Park, to work on basic navigation skills. The mountains were beautiful, with towering golden peaks emerging from a spattering of bogs, lakes, waterfalls, and rock screes. In the hills surrounding us, lonely patches of snow cling onto the north facing slopes, teasing us of the possibilities of Scottish summer. Normally at this time, there’s ice everywhere, snow piled high for the joy of all adventurers. Without snow, we can’t do our winter climbing, the exact thing we had gone there to do. So, instead of climbing, we turned to basic skills of navigation.

Graeme led us around the hills, instructing us on bearing, pacing, timing, map projection, ect. We did micro and macro navigation around Ryvoan bothy, and circled Craeg nan Gall. Despite having no snow, it was a great day that reinforced essential outdoor skills and introduced me to the physically demanding landscape of the highlands.

After a full day of going off path (Scotland has right to roam, you don’t use trails!), and sucking boots through bogs, creeks, rock slopes, and heather, we enjoyed a large chili dinner, before piling into a cuddle-puddle of Planet Earth II amazingness. Sleep followed.

Monday, 12th December 2017

5:30AM ALARMS BLARE CHILDREN CRY AND MOTHERS WEEP

6:30AM Steve, Leo, Jim, Eben, and I load up and set out to East Ridge, Beinn a’Chaorainn. It’s a lovely time of morning as our van glides through the asleep wilderness. With headlamps on and fierce caffeine driven determination our party sets off through the bog. We follow a small creek, alerted to the presence of waterfalls by sound alone. Birds begin to chirp as the squidge of our boots in Scottish peat remains a constant beat. In a movement both sudden and unnoticeably small, light pours into the valley as we stand in a field, stripping to base layers in the warm morning light. We set on upwards and trace out way around a forest patch, cursing and panting as the dense brush pulls at our legs (remember, no trails in Scotland). We make our way to the ridge, and look upward to its arched spine. After a brief snack, and after wind layers and helmets have been adorned, we set on upwards to the heavens.

The scramble was quite fun; an exposed mixture of cautious walking and upwards climbing as wind battered us from the east. Before long we had ascended up into the clouds, and the wondrous Scottish valley below us was masked by the depthless mist. Happy but wanting more, we finished the scramble on a clouded plateau, working our way to the over growing cairn. Without much visibility we saw to reason to stay, and began our descent down the backside. After a steep knee-slaughtering descent we drifted into a pine forest, following a babbling brook through the dense brush. Happy to be on flatter land, we zagged all across the brook, and stopped for lunch under a beautiful pine. Sitting atop a mossy rock, to the sounds of birds and water, olfactory senses alight from pine, petrichor, sap, and moss, I felt like I was home, in Oregon.

That night, the crew relaxed and celebrated by finishing off a keg of Trade Winds, while I happily sipped wine and my beautiful concoction of rum and cocoa.

 

Tuesday, 13th December 2017

6:00AM ALARMS BLARE WIDOWS WEEP AND GOATS BLEET

We wake, eat our sad carbo-loaded breakfasts, and set out for Cairn Gorm ski area. It’s another wondrous pre-dawn morning. Pulling into the parking lot there’s just enough light to void the necessity of head torches, so we set off up the winding trails. The trail itself is a glorious strip of tan gravel set against endless bouldered fields of dry grasses, crossing creeks as it meanders upwards. We go until our parties split ways, Eben and Jim go off to free-solo, while Barney, Leo, and I continue onward to find our cliff. We keep walking, past a giant boulder marking the beginning of a fun rock field. In jumps and lunges we cross, then arc leftward and begin a treacherous ascent up a goat trail. Grunting at the severe gradient and wailing winds, we trudge upward in a confused manner, trying to find the bottom to Fingers Ridge in the minimal visibility. After overshooting, we traversed back down to an area that seemed acceptable, and began to set up our three-pitch ascent. Barney led the first pitch as I belayed. The route started with a gnarly heel hook (in B2’s, keep in mind) that required a complete weight shift to the heel, and a lot of trust in your boots to propel yourself forward with no hand holds. After that move, it was an easy loop up and around to a sheltered boulder ledge. I had a hard time on the first move since it took me a while to trust climbing without feeling my foot placement, me being used to wearing climbing shoes. Once after the first move however, it was smooth sailing (except when the wind gusts picked up me and my pack, trying to blow us off the mountain). Once all three of us were on the ledge, I geared up to lead the second pitch. After Barney sent a head-sized boulder cascading down the mountain, I headed up the treacherous slope, more of a scramble than a climb. At the top, as I searched for a suitable anchor spot amidst a wall of rickety cracks, I felt the ground shift. I jumped upwards and reached for a small ledge, just as an exercise ball sized boulder dislodged from where I was standing and tumbled down, playing an orchestra of booms, cracks, and whams in the mist below. The scale of carnage and noise it caused was tremendous, and as I later found, of medium concern to my climbing companions who couldn’t see or hear me.

Once all three of us were there, Leo lead the final pitch. This was the hardest, and the most fun pitch. It started off by going over two questionably stacked rock chunks, then winding up and around the ridge. Climbing up a crack, you surfaced out to the top of the ridge, and climbing up a column (one of the ‘fingers’), before finally settling down on top. Now, I say settling, but by this point the mist was heavy and wind beginning to pick up. Finishing up there we loosely pack our gear and begin up the last scramble, a 10′ horizontal crack filled wall. Topping out we were slammed with wind, and decided the best course of action was to bugger down the cliff and back to the ski resort cafe.

8:00PM I am approaching drunkness, having finished off my wine and a sizable portion of rum in cocoa. Games and general tomfoolery occur whilst the crew gleefully approach finishing keg #2. I repeat, A SECOND KEG. Now, there weren’t many of us, but serious damage was done. Steve and Eben had 15 and 13 pints, respectively, in one night, not to mention whiskey on top of that.

9:30PM I am suitable gone. At some point we played Codename, Steve and I were on a cow, and Noah’s Island was watched. I’m out of rum, wine, and have done serious damage to whisky. Meghan gone. Somewhat spinny. Brush teeth. Pass out in bunk.

Wednesday, 14th December 2017

7:00AM (Maybe? ) Noise, no response

8:00AM (Maybe?) Noise, no response

9:00AM (Maybe?) The urge to empty my bladder stirs me from my drunken slumber. Lights pierce. My body is slow to come to grips with reality, a 4/10 on the hangover scale (2/5 for you proper fraction folks). I cook a massive fry-up for everybody who stayed back from either injury, sickness, or hangover. After feasting on eggs, bacon, black pudding, sausage, toast,and Reggae Reggae, and after comfortably caffeinating ourselves, we settled in for a long day of doing nothing. We sat, relaxed, gawked at our collective alcoholism, and got destroyed at Age of Empire by Steve.

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Thursday, 15th December 2017

X:00AM No alarms, just the rustle of the sleeping bag as I wake and stetch my pleasingly fatigued body. I cook an ample breakfast and wake Leo, then sip tea and watch Sherlock with Will. After waking Leo for the second time, I begin to prepare my bike gear.

10:00AM Leo and I roll out on our Scotland epic. We cross rolling farmland and begin to ascend into Scottish pine forests, notable for their grey bark bottoms and red tops. With a beautiful loch to our right Leo and I turn right and begin our ascent up to the Cairn Gorm ski resort. We climb, climb, and then climb some more. The roads make me think of Italy, steep winding switchbacks providing incredible views of the highlands. After climbing upwards (and taking en-route pictures and SnapChat to numb the leg pain), I finally see the sign for the ski resort. We pull in, happy and feeling accomplished, and drop our bikes in the cafe. Sitting over my espresso I look down to see a happy little 18 miles on my STRAVA screen, though it felt like a bit more. After a brief rest, we set off down the mountain, starting off by passing an annoyed Mini Cooper. We tear down the curves, bending and shaking and screaming at 40mph and then… get stuck behind a van. Absolute suffering then occurs as I am unable to pass this black-smoke spewing machine of sadness and death. Eventually we pass it, and begin our mighty gravel epic. Up past the reindeer sanctuary, we start up the trails. They start off beautiful, but eventually have patches of rough terrain, root jams, and aspiring lakes. We see all types of terrain, passing lochs, rivers, grasslands, fields, old Scottish forests on our road. We get minorly lost, but that only adds to the sense of adventure, right? After finishing our ride with an hour of light still, we do an extra scenic loop. This ride may have been the highlight of the day, doing single track and hopping about by a beautiful loch, in beautiful deep forests.

Near twilight Leo and I roll back, shower, and snack in preparation for a pub trip. Once the rest of the crew is back, we… ({66h6 max is cool} Max’s contribution) … we all head out to the pub for some pies and drinks. Enjoying another round of trade wind (How?!?!? You just downed two kegs?!?) my companions and I happily sit and banter in the very Brittish, Scottish pub. I work through their selection of whisky’s, happily tasting and further refining my pallet.

Friday, 16th December 2017

6:00AM Our last day in Scotland! Hype hype! It’s another odd breakfast, working around my pain-in-the-ass dietary needs. We drive out again to Cairn Gorm, this time Steve, Rosa, and I went off on a multi-Munro adventure (a munro is any Scottish hill over 3,000 feet high). We started off with Cairn Gorm itself (1244m), then we dropped down a steep rocky slope to  Loch Avon, a beautifully picturesque lake! After a quick photo shoot reveling in our limited visibility of the mountains, we started up A’ Chòinneach (1016m) in the mist. From there we dropped down again, then started climbing up the rocky grasslands to Bynack More (1090m). Here, we experienced the epitome of Scotland. There, on the mountain, sheltered behind the cairn from the 20mph+ gusts, Steve, Rosa, and I sipped whiskey and listened to Scottish music all while watching the clouds roll by. It was beautiful. Soon, we continued our journey down the mountain (where I found a dope fountain pen as crag swag!). It was around a 22km/14mile day of pure explorative fun. Upon our return, we cooked incredible fajitas and began to pack for our departure.

Overall Scotland was incredible. I saw things I’ve never seen before… beautiful mists rolling over tremendous hills, steep gully scree fields, ancient Scottish forests, and so much more! I am once again thankful for having such opportunities to experience everything through the CUMC. Yeah, I wish we had snow and ice to play in, but I’m not going to focus on that. Instead, I’m going to focus on the incredible memories and lessons I’ve learned. I’m going to focus on continuing to create lifetime friendships and enjoy myself to the max. It’s a grand ‘ole life I have here.

 

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