Web Development by Alistair Robinson

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 things in the same way, pick up from last time and put the changes into perspective.

This is where I’m living, in Leith. A lovely flat, with a lovely flatmate, Laura.

Which reminds me: regular readers of this blog may know that I’m interested in novel expressions. Latest in my collection of extraordinary phrases uttered in ordinary circumstances is my new cunt is vacuous.

Perthsire, especially the area around about Blair Atholl and Pitlochry and the valleys of the Tummel and Garry, is quite special. It’s cosy and fertile, with rolling hills and masses of deciduous trees, and also happens to have a few mountains. The awesome topography and stunning ruggedness of the West Highlands is missing, but you can have too much of a good thing (in this case at least). As you can see from the photo at the top of this post, the resulting views have a particular beauty.

This is the top of the first munro, Cairn Liath. The climb I know pretty well, across a bog and up a steep scree path. On its own it’s a pretty uninspiring hill, but I saw it differently yesterday because we pushed on beyond it into the heart of the mountain complex: it’s not on its own.

Hasn’t Stu got lovely knees? Well, all is not what it seems: he’s been practising this stance, which – and I’m sure he won’t mind my saying this – miraculously hides their unfortunate knobbliness.

Here’s me on the climb up to the second peak, tired but determined. My energy never left me on this walk, so no matter how knackered I was I never stopped enjoying it, and exhaustion never set in. I thank Cadbury, the makers of the finest chocolate bar in the world:

Yes, I know that Lindtt 70% cocoa solids dark chocolate is exquisite, and that other grown-up chocolate bars are considered superior, but the Chomp takes some beating.

Incidentally, have you tried the sweets that are aimed at kids these days? They’re inventive and interesting, with sophisticated and varied flavours. Galaxy-eaters don’t know what they’re missing.

Lustrous umber under a clean September sky. How nice!

Stu balances on the edge of sunlight.

This is somewhere near the second peak, Bràigh Coire Chruinn-bhalgain, Brow of the Corrie of Round Blisters.

I’m guessing that these are the blisters, in the corrie down below.

In the branch of philosophy called aesthetics, some questions regarding beauty might be what is beauty?, are there objective criteria for judging something beautiful?, is aesthetic sensitivity learned or innate?, how much does the appreciation of a beautiful object correspond with the innate configuration of the object, and so on. The hills are the result of the forces of weathering and glaciation, and of the forces of Earth’s crust. The vegetation is the result of millions of years of adaptation in response to the environment, but essentially the result of the accumulation of tiny random and accidental genetic mutations that happen to allow the bearers of those mutations – the organisms – to be more successful. The fluffy clouds are the result of the dynamics of gas and pressure and heat and water in the crazily complex flux which is the world’s weather system. The light is the radiation from the star that we orbit, burning its fuel in a nuclear fusion reactor. We owe all this to the particular agglomerations of matter and energy that led to the formation of the Sun and the Solar System. None of it has purpose and it is not the result of artistic effort (though religious people may disagree). So why is it beautiful? Because of beauty, which belongs to man.

Stu on the way to the top of the third peak, the third Munro, Carn nan Gabhar, or Hill of the Goats. The boulder field was like a shattered wart on the top.

More rocks. When you climb over boulder fields and rocky outgrowths like this, it’s not scrambling, because you’re not using your hands at all, and it’s a very different experience from normal walking, so I’ve decided to call it clambering.

Before descending, looking back over to the first peak.

As you can see, Stuart soldiered on through the pain and discomfort after his arms were severed in a horrendous accident. It’s possible that his successful double limb regeneration was, if not entirely the result of, then certainly helped by, his positive frame of mind.

The descent was pretty short and easy, although it was followed by a long walk back around the mountain and back down to the car, at first following an uneven and boggy path, before reaching the landrover track.

The sun was getting low and I captured the short-lived glory around me in a few photos.

And thanks to everyone at Lettingweb for the binoculars. Well chosen. They’re a quality pair and just right for me. I was using them yesterday, although we didn’t see anything surprising: a red squirrel, a very close-by red deer and several grouse. And what are those little birds that try to lure you away from their nest?

Tags: highlands, hillwalking, mountains, scotland, walking
Posted in aesthetics, places, walking | 3 Comments »