Mamores

I've lost count of the occasions, over the last year or so, when we've spotted a window in the diary, penciled in a trip north, and then, as the day approaches and the weather forecasts start to look louring, struck it through. So there was a slightly surreal feeling last week when, with a bank holiday coming up, we realised that the weather forecast actually looked Good. And we're in that lovely interlude where we don't need to consult the avalanche or midge forecasts. I dusted down the plan for our nine remaining Mamores, and out came the packs.

And if all that wasn't looking positive enough, how about this for a good augury for the trip? The gold wedding ring I lost last year was found lurking in the murky depths of my Macpac (aka The Rhine*)! OK, so I now have a spare, but you never know whe… OUCH!

We drove the van up to Glen Etive after work on Thursday, called in at Nevisport for an (under)cooked breakfast early on Friday, and were away from the Waterfall Carpark by mid-morning. Up through the Nevis gorge, with the birch leaves late, but still looking full of promise and smelling gorgeous…

I don't know whether you could hear it, but in that last photo there was a cuckoo over in the trees on the far side.

Busy as far as the meadow at Steall, after which we were out into clear, clear air.

On for a couple of miles, then over the Water of Nevis. Ah!

So to the main grind of the trip - up onto the lochan between the Binneins. Not the last time you'll see that looming presence in the background.

We dropped the packs here, and tripped up to the top of Binnein Beag.

Back down and on along the stalkers path into Coire a' Bhinnein. Now, if you know…

…Breugel's Landscape with the Fall of Icarus, you may feel a resonance of it in my next photo…

Yes, I'm sort of ashamed to say that the first I knew of that darned eagle in the background was when I started to upload the photos. Hm. Thinking about my time on the hills, I now begin to wonder how many deer might have swum past me unobserved. Actually, I'm only sort of ashamed that I didn't spot the eagle: each of us sees - and misses - different things in the hills. I'll stop this bit before it takes us off into existential territory.

I'd always fancied camping in Choire an Lochain, and this was the perfect evening for it. The view south from the tent…

On the northern side of Choire an Lochain we built Valhalla - sorry, pitched the tent - had something to eat, and headed off up Sgurr Elide Mor for our evening constitutional. We followed the path round the western side of the hill. A mistake. Nasty steep shaly sand. Still, the views from the top more than made up for it. One of those Mull-to-the-Cairngorms, Affric-to-Ben Lomond specials. Oh, and across Loch Rannoch, the Pointy-One-All-On-Its-Own. Mild and windless, too. In a word, heaven.

On the way back down I looked down and realised that last time I'd been up here I had come directly up the ridge. It looks steep from below, but there's nothing to it. We went back down that way, and the perch was magnificent. Valhalla, by the way, is down there on the right of the loch.

Once we got back down there I noticed that we had neighbours over on the opposite side of the loch. Not exactly noisy, but it was so still that when we'd gone to bed, about 10ish, I could still hear them talking across the water. Half a mile away, I reckon. Yes, it really was that still.

And things looked pretty special when I went out in the middle of the night.

First thing in the morning, and the magic is still in the air, with Binnein Beag looking very shapely.

Up Sgurr Elide Beag. Notice that whilst C is casting a lingering look back towards the camp site, Sadie has no nostalgic glint in her eye: lunch, she knows, lies ahead.

We took a couple of detours along the ridge. The first was for Binnein Mor, then after Na Gruagaichean, An Gearanach. We got there via a little-used stalkers path round the head of Coire na Gabhalach. It was the middle of the day by now, and with a fairly brisk breeze having got up, we did our usual thing of putting up the tent, cooking lunch and having a zizz. It's our age, you know.

The afternoon session began with An Gearanach, and then up Stob Coire a' Chairn, with that Presence looming again in the background…

Now, I admit that some things can fly past without me noticing, but on top of Stob Coire a' Chairn I looked round and saw these…

And yes, they were flying. They paused to wait for each other and chat with us (they were barely out of breath), but then zipped off again. And my camera tells me that between them leaving this summit, and the following zoom of them all gathering on point 909, en route to Am Bodach, took them eight minutes! Speaking as one who had made a flailing, failed attempt to beat his own marathon record the previous week, I was bitterly envious of this group. Or I would have felt bitter, but actually they were Really Nice. So, Edinburgh University Haries, if you come across this photo, print it out and put it away to enjoy when you're fifty-something and - no matter how hard you try - you just can't do that kilometre from Stob Coire a' Chairn in less than nine minutes…

The last summit of our day was Am Bodach. Lovely views down over Loch Linnhe.

The camp site around here is obvious. Well it must be pretty obvious, because there were three other tents gathered around and about Lochan Coire nam Mseach. Actually, we were all out of sight and sound of each other. Another collector's item for backpackers.

Yes, it was another slice of paradise. By the following morning the clear views had gone, but even in the mist the magic was still there. It might be just me, but one thing I find on backpacking trips, which I never quite get on single days, is a capacity to enjoy even the dullest conditions. Could it be that mist gives me a useful alibi for not seeing eagles? Hm. Really, I suspect it's just the mantra of movement. Whatever the reason, we were still smiling by the time we had plodded over Stob Ban to Mullach nan Coirean. All in all, a goodie.

* Sorry, we've evidently been listening to too much Wagner this year.