Everything was in alignment. The Gods had spoken. I had no choice in the matter: it was Fate.
On Tuesday, I looked at my calendar and saw that there was to be be a full moon on Thursday. I checked the weather and it was predicted to be completely clearing up on Wednesday evening. I checked the sunset time: 8.05pm. The moonrise: 7.05pm. Perfect! I must go to my favourite spot on the coast for photographs after work. I would not have to worry about getting back from the sea to the road – an hour’s walk – before the last light of dusk faded, because I would have the moon to guide me. I walked the route in late twilight … read on »
Archive for the ‘walking’ category…
How I Began Hillwalking
My brother and I have not been up many mountains in the past couple of years, so it feels like a good time to take stock of this aspect of my life, and who knows, it might help me make an effort to get things going again.
When I was a pale skinny ghost of a youth, still aimlessly haunting my hometown of Largs in Ayrshire, an Australian appeared amongst our group of friends for a short time. The town was a stop-off in his travelling, and I have forgotten his name, but something he said has stayed with me ever since. He was talking to me about all the places in Scotland he had been to, and asking me about … read on »
Hillwalking Crisis and a Walk up Ben Vorlich and Stuc a Chroin
A serious disagreement threatens to bring to an end the very successful hillwalking duo of the Robinson brothers (Stu and me). We’re both passionate, committed people, so it’s no surprise that it happened; and it’s more of a challenge to resolve it than it is to struggle up a steep slope of scree or navigate over boulder fields in thick cloud.
I won’t explore the ins and outs of the argument on this blog, but the whole thing is quite interesting. The crux of it is that Stu is an arrogant, selfish little – no, just kidding. The real crux of it is that my photography can slow us down sometimes, and on two recent walks (not our most recent walk, … read on »
Springtime Walk on the Blackmount
Not for us the richness of the lowland countryside in the throes of the climactic consummation of spring. Upwards!
On a warm and beautiful day such as yesterday, only at the top of a mountain would we get the chance to experience miserable weather, cold winds and physical hardship. Only in the alpine zone would we escape the thick masses of hawthorn blossom, the acrobatics of the newly-arrived swallows, the frolicking lambs, the pervading air of promise, and the excitement of a holiday weekend as a whole people comes out of hibernation.
Tell me again, why do I do this? Let’s see…
Stu, my brother, and I stayed at the Kingshouse Hotel on Friday night and set off at dawn to tackle two … read on »
Ben Vane Winter Walk
I was a bit worried about how I’d manage on the mountain yesterday, considering that:
I’d hardly exercised at all since September (our last mountain walk);
I now had not one but two dodgy knees;
I had a cold;
I was feeling pretty run-down from all the commuting and staying up late;
It was February and I had no ice axe or crampons.
But I needn’t have worried: although it was hard-going (it always is) there was no doubt that I’d make it safely to the top, and there was barely any snow around – I was forgetting about how relatively mild it’s been this winter. In fact it was warm enough to strip down to my shirt, and it was only the cold wind at … read on »
Sunshine on Leith and the Hill of The Veil
Yesterday Stu and I climbed the peaks comprising the Beinn a’Ghlo massif (three munros and a top). Quite a feat for us and so satisfying, because it didn’t defeat us as Bidean Nam Bian did.
I’ve realised that whatever else happens, walking in the mountains with Stu every few weeks is a constant. Between the last one and yesterday’s walk I have broken up with my girlfriend of seven years, moved to a new home, and started a new job. But the walk was the same as always. That might sound dull, but it’s not that we always talk about the same things, or that we’re not changing as the years go by; it’s that we can talk about those different … read on »
Beinn a' Bheithir Mountain Walk
Ever since Chernobyl, these gaiters have never been the same*
Yesterday Stu and I went up Beinn a’ Bheithir (something like bin a veer I think) on the summerest summer day of the summer so far – the day was hot and long and hazy and glowing and pulsating and sticky and gloriously summer.
I was out on Friday night and had a great time, but I stayed out one hour beyond my peak and that was partly why, at six in the morning, I could be seen by our neighbours staggering out to the taxi in Ann’s dressing gown, having just been woken by a knock at the door courtesy of Scott next-door. I got the taxi-driver to come back half-an-hour … read on »
Glencoe Walk: Buachaille Etive Beag
Yesterday Stu and I went up Buachaille Etive Beag, the little herdsman of Etive. It’s a ridge parallel to its big brother, Buachaille Etive Mor, but lacks that mountain’s grandeur and the stirring aspect when seen from Rannoch Moor, which I snapped with difficulty from the speeding car:
Remarkable to see the mountains like this when our last climb was mainly on deep snow and hard ice. I’ve been wanting to go to Glencoe for months now and when I got out of the car at the car park I was exhilarated to be there. I took a few photos while a cuckoo cuckooed. There wasn’t much of a view of our mountain, mainly a convex rounded lump looming above, but … read on »
For Leonhard: Why Climb Mountains?
In his little piece Mountaineering as a Life Style Danish mountaineer Jan Elleby answers the question why climb mountains? with this:
Curiously enough this question is only posed by people, who have not climbed any mountains themselves. For if you by yourself have experienced the adventures and quality in life that mountaneering may offer you, then you would never be asking this question.
This is unimaginative, clichéd rhetoric. The question has become more gripping for me since I started doing it, which disproves his argument. If there is a rule at all, it’s not this:
But this:
©2010 Alistair Robinson