Since we lost our Munro virginity somewhere high in the hills above Loch Lomond, we were excited to plan our next adventure. Convinced we were practically professionals after one walk, and aware that one Munro a year would take 282 years, I decided that the next Munro should actually be a ring of 7 Munros completed over 2 days with a wild camp thrown into the mix, known as “the Lawers 7” which sounded like a bad Western movie. Chris’s initial reaction was a carefully considered “no”… complete with over anxious eyebrows. He felt that we were nowhere near experienced and fit enough. Telling me I can’t do something is a sure fire way to make me want to prove otherwise and as is usually the case in our relationship, I got my own way.
So after the most intense and bizarre Amazon wish list I have ever created, we suddenly were the proud owners of ordnance survey maps, a compass (not a clue), camping pans that all fit inside each other like a geometric puzzle, roll mats, sleeping bags, carabiners (nope me neither) and carefully planned bags of food to last us 48 hours. Ever the master of organisation, I researched such things as “how to poop in the wild” and “will beer retain its fizz at high altitude”. However, I did also take navigation seriously, heading out a walk with the lovely Amy, our Duke of Edinburgh leader at the high school where I teach English…(well clearly i wasn’t going to be a geography teacher given my lack of direction!) Amy patiently taught me about OS maps and the compass. I did however download an app called ViewRanger which was the best £14.99 I’ve ever spent (as will be apparent later in the post) – note to self, keep an eye on your map at all times 🙈
As the route turned out to be more linear than circular, we read some comments on the WalkRanger website that suggested leaving a car at one end and taking a taxi to the start. So on the 20th July 2020 we parked our car in the car park at the foot of Ben Lawers and had prebooked a taxi to take us a few miles down the road to the foot of Meall Greigh.
It was decided that Chris would carry the tent (I did offer) but my hero took one for the team. However I did have my own very heavy backpack with my sleeping bag and rollmat, food and minimal clothes and an abundance of our newly acquired camping gear (chlorine tablets – yes now I’m THAT guy). We set off really early in high spirits. The start of the walk from the Lawers hotel is a little bit of main road with no pavement then you turn up at a small farmhouse and the path is relatively easy to follow. Meall Greigh was a slog. Not overly steep but very long and we trudged through it. The scenery was beautiful and what’s nice was we could see a line of 4 of the Munros stretched out – Meall Greigh, Meall Garbh, An Stuc and Ben Lawers, all silhouetted against the sky like trooping soldiers. The weather was changeable, one minute we had sleeveless t-shirts on and the next the rain and hail was whipping our faces. We reached the summit eventually after what felt like years and ate sandwiches looking down over Loch Tay.
So far so good, although it took more time to climb it than we anticipated. It got rapidly chilly at the top so we scooped up our stuff and beat a hasty retreat on to the next Munro in the procession. This is when I lost the map.
Now in my infinite wisdom, I had studied the OS MAP, drawn my route and placed it in a waterproof clear sleeve that I attached to my backpack. I can only assume in my haste to be on the move that when I sat down I ripped it from my bag. Not that I noticed until we were almost at the summit of Munro 2… when we really, really needed it…. Lesson – keep the map safe and check you still have it before you move on. Donut!
Meall Garbh was surprisingly meh. It wasn’t steep, or beautiful or all that remarkable. But it chalked us another one up on the board. When we approached the summit though, the weather changed. Not gradually, instantaneously. And it was terrifying. People say that Scotland can have 4 seasons in one day but never had I truly experienced it until the top of Meall Garbh. It taught us to never expect that the top of a mountain on a sunny day will be the same as the bottom and Chris became really good thereafter at studying cloud and wind patterns. As we got close to the cairn, the visibility was nonexistent and the wind made it difficult to stay on our feet, particularly as we were turtles, carrying our mobile homes on our backs. We joke about it now but wavering on top of a narrow mountain blindly reaching out into the misty white, all I heard was “Just. Get. To. Me”, his voice carrying across the wind. It was the most dramatic moment of our trip. We had intended to traverse the next 2 Munros before setting up camp but the weather was intimidating so we dropped down a little from the summit to find partial cover and set up our tent in the middle of a gale force storm (yes we are still together!)
Our camp was actually one of my favourite parts of the adventure. We shared our lodgings with many sheep and a breathtaking view out the tent door of Loch Tay. We ate tinned vegetable curry and boiled bags of rice, with cereal bars for pudding and a cracking cup of cappuccino from a sachet. In the morning the sun was shining and the biblical weather from the night before was a distant memory (possibly due to the beer).
Our next challenge was our first ridge; An Stuc. We had deliberately planned our route in this order so we would be ascending the steeper face rather than coming down it which in hindsight was a much better idea than trying to set up a gas burner on an uneven terrain the night before (yes, really).
Although it seemed impressive, we actually both really enjoyed scrambling up it! Perhaps more so me since I wasn’t carrying a 4 man tent on my shoulders! But it was short and sharp and the views are not to be underestimated. It felt like we were teenagers again on an outdoor activity session (only more cardio involved than drinking Smirnoff ice in a bus shelter). We got to the top quickly, jubilant and with the attitude “what’s all the fuss about?” Neither of us willing to discuss what would have happened if the horrible weather shift the night before had occurred on that particular climb. We dropped down then into the valley and sat for a bit again with a snack and just enjoyed the early morning sounds of the small streams and the silence that you only find in Scottish hills.
The plan at this point was to reach the top of Ben Lawers which included a 4th Munro called “Beinn Ghlas” en route before dropping off to the right to incorporate Meall Corranaich and Meall a Choire Leith. But truthfully we were concerned about time. The overnight camp had set us back so whilst physically we would have been able to do it, we didn’t want to risk being stuck out there another night with no food if the weather continued to be unpredictable. After a team talk, we decided on completing the 5 and saving the last 2 for another day. So we set off up Ben Lawers which was actually a very pleasant climb.
We were mightily impressed and a little smitten with a collie that raced up and down the ascent making fools of our huffing and puffing. Truthfully it wasn’t too bad though and trust me the view at the top is spectacular. The midges were nowhere near as bad as Loch Lomond and we ate our lunch in glorious sunshine at the top. This was the first time we saw lots of other walkers. On the way up we hardly saw a soul but clearly Ben Lawers is well travelled from the other side up, with lots of different nationalities, families, calibres of hillwalkers. It was a highlight of the trip for sure.
From the summit, we passed quickly over the 5th one without really noticing – Beinn Ghlas. Quick high five and it was time to descend. We had booked ourselves a night in a hotel at the end as a treat in a beautiful little village called Killin. So renewed by the prospect of non-packeted food and good wine, we set off triumphantly. This lasted about an hour. Once again the descent almost broke us. Physically and emotionally. The side of Ben Lawers heading down to the car park involves wide steps down and my legs are tiny. So the impact and the sheer length of the descent was a killer. My knees wobbling and my bottom lip too at times, we snapped at each other many times and my memory of this part of the journey mainly involves the look on Chris’s face turning back to look at me in frustration at having to wait. It’s not all bad though, he could tell I was finding it hard going and by the end he dug deep for moral support and encouraged me through those last final hours. I said it before and I’ll say it again, the end point is not the summit; the end point is the car. We got there eventually and fortunately too because I now had blisters on the underneath of my feet that had me limping to the car and hallucinating like in Castaway when Tom Hanks spots the boat. We made it though! Jumped in the car and we were ten mins from sanctuary.
The hotel was wonderful. Quiet, due to covid restrictions but a traumatised shower and a glass of the most delicious Rioja and I was almost myself again. The heels were perhaps optimistic. I limped in my flip flops to dinner and by the end of the night was soothing my blistered soles on the cold black floor tiles. Dinner was incredible. I had battered halloumi and chips and peas (basically a vegetarian fish supper) and we had a wonderful cheese board. If you are ever lucky enough to stay at the Falls of Dochart Inn, you must check out their Smokehouse out back – we took home wonderful cheese for our family.
It was an adventure for sure and not one we are likely to forget. Many more lessons learned for next time and many achievements to be proud of. But one thing remained – we love Scotland and we love making memories together. Both of which cannot be taken away (unlike our map). Now to plan the next one….
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