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Please note that this site is no longer the official website of the JMCS (Glasgow Section) which can be found at http://www.jmcs.org.uk/. These pages are provided to ensure continuity of provision and that the information that they contain is not lost.
Dear Member,
Welcome to my last newsletter. It is now over six years since I was first elected to the job of Secretary and just over a year since I intimated my intention to step down. For those of you who don’t already know, we have a new Secretary: Vicky Stewart. I am sure that she will do a fine job and hope that everyone gives the support and encouragement to her that I have received from members over the years. In handing over the reigns of power to Vicky I said that I would produce one final newsletter with the information that I had but had not managed to get into print. Here is it is. Many thanks to the contributors of meet reports (mainly Vicky, but also Colwyn and Alan).
Donald Ballance
(Ex-Secretary)
24 December 1999
The following report has been written by Donald Ballance:
I haven’t really been able to determine whether any climbing was actually achieved on this meet but it seems that one of the heaviest snowfalls of the winter coincided with this weekend. Apparently much time was spend digging out cars, particularly Tony’s since he had taken it down the track towards the hut. Should anyone have further information on this meet that they wish to share with the members I am sure that Vicky would be pleased to publish another report.
The following report has been written by Donald Ballance:
As usual with meets at this time of year, the weather played an important part in the activities this weekend. On the Saturday Donald led up a barely complete B gully. This was fortunately fairly easy since, upon reaching the top, Donald discovered that Tony was using the bottom half of a full-body harness as his sit harness. He seemed undeterred by the fact that it did not have a waist belt, nor any method of securing it other than a 3-way loaded karabiner! A proper sit harness was apparently high on Tony’s shopping list the following week. After a evening of fighting with a rather uncooperative stove an early night was had and a retreat to Glasgow in the snow on Sunday morning was the only option.
The following report has been received from Vicky Stewart
Tony arrived at 12.30 a.m. to pick us up. Not a problem really, we’d just have a late arrival. Didn’t reckon on it being so late as he missed the Perth sign and took the Kincardine Bridge turn-off. So we went via Falkirk and Stirling. Oh, the adventure. Little did we know that that was only the beginning.
On Saturday morning we headed up A’Chailleach. Loads of deep snow to trudge through. The wind was howling, white out-conditions and so we decided not to continue and headed back down.
The night’s events consisted of my failed, but calm, attempt to light the fire (crap coal, honest). John failing to light the fire, John kicking the fire, John throwing all the coal from the stove around the living room area (try picturing a dog burying a bone — a frantic dog), John throwing the grate down, John screaming at me for using all the firelighters, John simply screaming! What highlights this unreasonable event was that we actually had heat via electricity and the gas rings of the cooker: therefore no fear whatsoever of being cold!
Tony and I vacated the room and an early night ensued. Donald arrived around midnight to find a silent hut.
Donald (on skis) and John (walking) went up Meall Chuaich on the Sunday. The temper of the weather on Saturday was enough for me! No apology for the inappropriate and inexcusable behaviour was ever received.
The following report has been written by Donald Ballance:
What is it about the grades on Aonach Mor? After what should have been a reasonable day for any of us we were nearly all burnt out! Dave took Richard up Morwand (IV), Mark and I climbed White Shark (IV) and Stevie and Davie did something of a similar grade nearby. Despite the short nature of the climbs, perhaps it was the conditions, all of us retired gratefully to the Gondola after just one route. Not only this, but activity the following day was severely restricted and, as far as I can remember, only Andrew and I ventured onto any technical ground with an ascent of the Upper Couloir of Stob Ghabhar. At the top the views were spectacular and lunch was had enjoying the view. A gust of wind caught the packaging for my Spinach and Ricotta slices and whipped it up and away. Much to my surprise it seemed to get caught in a swirl of wind and after watching it for about two minutes it returned and I was able to re-capture the errant litter. When I left the hut that morning the others were strangely reluctant to renew their acquaintance with the steep white stuff and after this length of time I cannot remember whether they actually made it onto the hill that day.
The following report has been received from Vicky Stewart:
The journey north for this week’s meet was not as eventful as the last one to up the A9 to Milehouse — thankfully: i.e., we left at 7.30 p.m. and took no wrong turnings. So things were looking good. Arrived to find Scott and Mark there, keen to recount their previous week’s climbing escapades. Ann and Colwyn arrived around 1 a.m. — all present. Yep, still looking good.
The anticipation of climbing potential and mountain tops to reach was hanging in the air. You could taste it, you could smell it, … or was that something else? Unknown to us, the sleeping farting party had arrived earlier and really, the initial smell of the room should have given us a clue as to what to expect during the rest of the night.
Next morning I failed the “how to win friends and influence people” test spectacularly. I thought I had heard people get up and leave earlier and so I said to the other “Did you hear those guys farting and moaning all night?” Merely seeking confirmation that it wasn’t my imagination. Nobody had, but they enquired of me whether the guys were still above. I checked — yep — they were! “Doe” with a slap to the forehead as Bart Simpson would say. And how they laughed! For the rest of the weekend!
Time for a sharp exit! Morning tea was served to those remaining in bed … not a common practice, nor will it become so! But anyway, mountain talk. That’s exactly what happened for the next hour or two — just a lot of mountain talk and showing of slides and photos as the crap weather deterred any thought of actually going outside.
Many a mutter was made about just walking down to the hotel to watch the rugby (Scotland v Wales) but such a sensible option for the prevailing conditions was not chosen! And so Ann, Katy, Dave, Mark and myself headed off to Fionn Bheinn. Very wet, very windy. Straight up, turn around, straight down. Yahoo, what else is there to say?!! Oh, Dave got soaked in his cotton trousers, his underpants didn’t ’cos he wasn’t wearing any, so we were informed! We could tell something was up (or not as the case may be!) by the way he was walking down the hill! Infact, I was the driest of them all. Even Mr. Mark Mountain Man himself was soaked.
Meanwhile, Scott charged up and down Beinn Eighe by himself. Ann has chosen it as her last Munro so everyone else avoided it but Scott was on his mission to get them finished by the 19th June so it had to be done! Colwyn and Donald went up Sgorr nan Lochan Uaine behind the hut and returned talking about waterfalls and Timotei!
But anyway, mountain talk, and once again that’s what happened next. We all met up about three hours or so later and after changing into dry clothes, headed off to the local drinking establishment for a few refreshments. Colwyn ran all the way!
After returning from the pub, the night’s entertainment consisted of Scott entertaining us with tunes on the pipes (and that’s not all … read on!), Dave trying to learn the paddy bar — he was successful until a bit of speed was added! A good bit of jigging was had. Mark tried and I’m sure he still had his wellies on from the previous night!
Meanwhile the Northumbrian wind orchestra were up to strange antics consisting of crossing rickety bridges and wading through the burn without spilling their pot of stew. When they returned, for some strange reason (and one I won’t argue with), one of the Northumbrians asked Scott to remove his T-shirt while playing the pipes. And he did … with no persuasion at all!
So there he was sat, piping away, right pectoral muscle twitching with every pump of the elbow. He certainly knows how to entertain an audience — and boy were they entertained. He was loving it!
But anyway, I digress nostalgically. Mountain talk! (You’ll gather that achieving routes and tops of mountains wasn’t a big part of the weekend.) On Sunday Ann and Colwyn headed off to Beinn Liath Mhor and Sgorr Ruadh. Scott and Mark went home — even hardcore climbers and Munro baggers get tired sometimes, apparently. Dave, Katy, Donald and I took the scenic route round to Applecross. Stopped off at Lonbain to admire old ruined cottages with grass roofs (really just an excuse to let our stomachs return to their normal position after Donald’s rally driving round the single track road).
Drove up to 600m at the Bealach nam Ba. Same procedure as previous day, i.e., straight up, turn around, straight down. A battle with the wind — we won. Brief heart stopping moment as Donald’s car didn’t start. Not a word was said other than prayers as Donald fidgeted with some wires … it would serve us right for driving so far up the hill if we had to walk all the way down to get to the nearest phone! But not to be … the car started.
Personally I think Ling Hut meets are great — every time I go there a male member reveals loads of flesh. What with Brian in October stripping off for a swim in the loch at the bottom of Maol Chean-dearg. More Torridon meets, that’s what I say!
The following report has been received from Colwyn Jones:
As with most meet reports I compose, I have to inform you once again, gentle reader that the Friday night Virgin West Coast line train from Wigan to Glasgow was late. The reason was a national grid power cut north of Carlisle, clearly not the train operators fault or so we were supposed to surmise.
She who is gorgeous and pouting met me at Glasgow Central Station and we were quickly on the A9 enduring only light traffic and arriving at Ling at 1.00 a.m. The others were already in bed so we joined them — spiritually not physically of course.
There were four physiotherapists already in residence and any intermittent silence was filled with the sound of flatus or one of them shouting in his sleep. Vicky made mention of them farting once they had all got up — or so she thought. The result was that she spent the rest of the day trying to apologise to the smelly pigs.
Saturday morning was predictably mild and wet, which put paid to ambitions on steep ice such as Poacher’s Fall or Salmon Leap on Liathach. So after a late start Donald and I ticked the Corbett behind the hut. Scott went off alone to tick the new summit on Beinn Eighe (clearly a determined Munroist) and the other five ticked Fionn Beinn. The conditions were typical Scottish winter with thick mist, strong winds and wet snow. Dave was rather cold as he was wearing only cotton trousers, with no underpants — but we won’t ask how people knew.
On the way back down Donald and I discovered the Timotei waterfall but no Timotei girl!
We were all back at the hut early so headed down to the Beinn Damh to watch the rugby and have a pint. Not trusting any of the JMCS chauffeurs on offer I ran there feeling it was safer if wetter. But, I have to admit I accepted a lift back to the hut. We then enjoyed a sumptuous feast with Donald discovering he had mouldy Nan bread. As you do!
The physiotherapists had been throwing each other into the river and we interpreted this somewhat Masonic behaviour as suggesting they were actually policemen. Scott had his new small pipes and topless, entertained us with a fine repertoire to which the more agile, and less pissed, attempted to dance. Vicky was encouraged to blow Scott’s pipe, but she said she wanted to practice at home before doing it in front of everyone!
On Sunday Ann and I went up Beinn Liath Mhor and Sgorr Ruadh. We achieved both summits but did not ascend Raeburn’s buttress as planned. The others were still in bed when we left the hut and had departed when we returned. Perhaps they might like to let us know what they did!
Another fine weekend notwithstanding the weather and a few more Munros and Corbetts ticked if anyone was so obsessed as to try and finish them.
The worst type of Easter weather occurred at the planned meet this year: warm but wet. The resulting lack of enthusiasm resulted in the planned meet failing to take place as far as I know.
The weather was too warm for it to be worthwhile making the trip up to the CIC.
Due to the failure to secure a venue the Whole Club AGM failed to take place.
The following report has been written by Donald Ballance:
Those present had one of the best weekends of the year on this Mayday meet to Ardnamurchan. Donald, David and Richard set off for a day’s climbing at Polldubh on the Friday morning only to have Donald’s BX die on the way into Fort William from their overnight accommodation at Loch Eil Outward Bound. Fortunately it was patched together by the AA and a good day’s cragging was had.
Given the still dubious state of Donald’s car, Mark “volunteered” to take his car and all four of us headed off to Ardnamurchan on the Friday evening, camping en-route. An excellent day’s cragging was had at Meall an Fir-eoin Beag where a couple of new routes were also done by Donald and Mark. Later that day we met up with the others at the campsite … an excellent location even if it was overrun with hungry sheep.
The following day was not quite so warm and sunny but excellent cragging was had at Achnaha buttress before apathy set in. Dave, Richard, and Vicky headed off towards the coast to investigate some sea cliffs. However they did not get far up their chosen cliff, partly because of the loose and insecure nature of the cliff, but mainly because of the quantity of abuse being hurled in their direction by John who was scrambling elsewhere on the cliff.
On the Monday, while Donald, Andrew, Dave and Mark climbed a bold HVS at Boat House Crag, Loch Eilt, John gave a lift to Richard, Alan and Vicky back to Glasgow. This was, however, not without incident, as it is reported that while Alan, Richard and Vicky were getting a refreshment at the Corran Hotel, John became impatient, drove onto the ferry and was not seen for about an hour … meanwhile Richard was getting worried about missing his flight. Overall and entertaining, enjoyable, and incident packed weekend that was enjoyed by all present.
The following report has been written by Donald Ballance:
For the first time in many years I made it to a mid-May Lagangarbh meet, even if it was only for one day. The weeks before had, for a change, been reasonable and there was the prospect of a good climbing weekend. Mark and Donald climbed a rather damp Waterslide Corner (HVS) and Pegleg (HVS) on the Saturday and found a rope on the descent. The author believes that Katy and Vicky went walking while the redoubtable duo of John and Tony tackled some climbs elsewhere on the Buachaille.
The Sunday marked a welcome return to the rock for Neil Marshall following his Red Rock’s accident and was apparently led up a route by Andrew! Has this ever occurred before? Others seemed to enjoy their day on the hills.
The following report has written by Donald Ballance
Not much to report for this meet since I was not there and cannot say what happened on the hill, or perhaps more unfortunately, in the alcohol induced activities that inevitably accompany a work meet. I have heard reports, however, that much work demolishing walls and re-building partitions was achieved and that the kitchen area of the hut is therefore much improved. The only other bit of news to reach my ears of that weekend was the fact that while descending from the Castle John twisted his ankle badly and was out of action for a number of weeks.
The following report has been received from Vicky Stewart:
Those who arrived on Friday night were treated to a lovely spread of food (courtesy of Ian and Anne) and a variety of whiskies. And so the weekend progressed.
Awoke to rain but as we all gathered around the cars at the bottom of the hill the rain stopped and stayed off throughout the ascent. We all bumbled along and up to the Top — Geal-charn the young ones displaying loads of energy … more energy than a few of the adults present! Niel looked cool with his pink top, kilt and gaiters! John was always around the with his little camcorder with a few too many close-ups of female anatomy. Chancer! A couple of ptarmigans were spared as someone’s boot narrowly missed the camouflaged creatures. Most attendees ran up Sgoran Dubh Mor before ascending Sgor Gaoith. What a fine cairn it was, perched on the edge of a precipice with bottles of whisky and champagne towering tantalisingly.
Ian popped the cork and the drink flowed until an hour or so later when hail and rain rudely interrupted the party. It was a case of grab a bottle and run! Well, a few people managed to run. A certain few had rubber legs and fell regularly!
Ian managed to “fall” completely into a burn courtesy of one of his friskier (and larger) friends, but the next time was his own doing as he tried to rescue his cap. He managed to continually fall to either side of the burn, missing the burn initially and the cap every time. Judgement seriously impaired and definitely a case of “you had to be there”… check the video! We all made it back to the hut safely enough, somehow, some wetter than others.
While everyone else cooked inside in the dry, Dave insisted on a barbecue and set about improvising in the car park much to everyone’s amusement. But he was successful eventually.
And the drink continued to flow.
On Sunday, Dave, Donald and Niel drove south to Dunkeld hoping for some climbing action — but the rain put paid to that desire. Davie, Clair, Anderson, Neil Wilkie, Neil Marshall, and I went to attempt the undulating plateau commonly know as the Monadh Liath. I’m sure it’s been called many other names. I say “attempt” because, apart from Clair who turned back at the bothy on A’Chailleach, the rest of us only got as far as the summit of A’Chailleach before a certain three members of the SMC decided to turn back because of a little wind and rain! It’s true, and hence the real reason I’m writing this report. I heard these works at the top: “Fancy going down and going for a cup of tea in Newtonmore?” The rest agreed immediately! I was the only one willing to go on. These mountaineers who allegedly cope with the extremities of Scottish weather conditions — no more — they’d rather watch it through the window of a café with a hot cup of tea! So I wouldn’t be so quick to demean the capabilities of a female again boys! Congratulations again Ian!
The following report has been written by Donald Ballance
An early start from Glasgow on the Friday enabled three days of climbing to be had this weekend with a brief stop for a couple of routes at Dunkeld on the way up to the Raeburn hut. A mixed day of weather on the Saturday saw many cups of tea drunk before a decision was eventually taken to head to Beinnein Shuas where Donald and Davie completed an uneventful ascent of The Fortress Direct. Meanwhile the other two David’s were yo- yoing the first pitch of the classic of the crag Ardverike Wall. Not that they were finding it difficult … it was just that each time they made progress it started to drizzle so they retreated, and each time they retreated the rain stopped so they started back up the route. Eventually loosing patience with the weather they decided to follow Donald and Davie up the first few pitches of The Fortress Direct where Dave took a bit more air than he was expecting after a hold snapped. Shaken but fortunately not stirred they completed the first few pitches and were able to walk off at the terrace.
Exploration was the order of the day on Sunday, however the crag selected was not sufficiently dry following overnight rain and only one supposedly easy, but actually rather tricky and wandering, route was completed at Creagan Soilleir before Sunday afternoon lethargy set in. It should, however, be said, that the wildlife encountered while approaching and returning from the crag made it a worthwhile day’s outing.
The following report has been received from Vicky Stewart:
The first few people all congregated outside the Clachaig in Killin on the Friday night to witness, and participate in, the folk festival getting into full swing. Had enough of that quickly as we got bitten by midges, and the pubs were too busy to get into. Headed off to find the campsite, sorry football pitch, that by the end of the weekend resembled a mini Glastonbury. After confusing the Rock Steady crew on guard at the entrance with our valid tickets (they were easily confused) we were shown where to park cars and pitch tents. The night that followed was rather sleepless for all, as it seemed that the rest of the campsite drank, screamed songs, thumped guitars and argued until at least 5 a.m. At 7 a.m. some were up and starting all over again. It was a particularly sleepless night for Richard who had neither a sleeping bag nor mat! Friday evening had seen him leave Glasgow with Dave and Donald to do some cragging on the way up … but no one had told Richard that they were continuing to Killin without returning to Glasgow!
To the purpose of the weekend: Scott’s last Munro†: Beinn Heasgarnich. Rather different from Ian’s — in every way! It rained hard and incessantly. An absolute shocker. Unlucky! The next day was beautiful — Ha! Kilts and tails were kept dry and wrapped for the evening as all waterproofs were donned and firmly kept on.
We all plodded up, everybody chatting, mingling, and keeping to the typical “last Munro” pace. The last part provided the excitement when the wind whipped up a hue and cry! The group completely fragmented. Arriving at the cairn it was a case of clutching each other. We all froze and tried not to get blown away as we waited for the man of the moment and the last stragglers to arrive.
Scott opened the champagne, a quick drink was had, I’m sure I saw someone with a bottle of whisky being passed around, quick congratulations, followed by an equally quick exodus from the summit. It was a different story on the way down compared to one large group coming slowly up. It was each person for themselves to the place where the real party would commence!
The Killin Hotel was the venue. The beer flowed, Scott played his pipes (this time keeping his shirt on), everybody was dry and happy. Fantastic! I was continually reminded (i.e., piss taken) of my efforts taken to maintain one’s appearance, as one does every now and then. Unfortunately I made the mistake of telling Dave (fatal error — I thought he was a friend — told the world!). If you don’t know what I’m talking about that’s fine — best kept that way!
We took in a forgettable concert. All I remember is Dave and I being told off for talking! Scott demonstrating his favourite party trick of sleeping through the concert — someone said it was the aftershock of being on the hill with so many people after completing a rather large percentage of Munros on his own!! Don’t know who that was.
And here endeth the report. I think it’s best for all — eh Mark! as things steadily became very drunk and very messy. And I’m not just talking about the mud in the campsite! Eh, Mark?! Congratulations again Scott.
† It should be noted that this was very nearly Scott's second last Munro. Running out of days in which to complete his other Munro's before the big day Scott decided to climb the neighbouring hill, Creag Mhor. One weekday evening after work. Normal mortals would have made an effort to ensure that they left work early that night and set-off up the hill early ... not Scott. He had arranged to borrow Dave's mountain bike and set off along Glen Lochay on the track at about 10.00 p.m. Obviously trying to make up time he pushed too hard on the pedals and succeeded in breaking the chain of the bike twice! Eventually he reached the end of the track and continued on and up on foot. An hour and a half later Scott slowly became concerned when the hill did not seem to be matching the lie of the land he expected from the map. Further investigations revealed that he had in fact climbed to within a couple of hundred feet of the summit of Beinn Heasgarnich. Rectifying this error took more time and it was daylight and somewhere about 5.00 a.m. before Scott finally made it into bed that night. Other stories of Scott's quest to complete the Munro's have taken on an almost legendary status: falling asleep at the wheel, writing off his car ("absolutely no way are they are related"), long distance solo trips, and the infamous day trip to two of the remotest Munros: ?? and Ruadh Stack Mor in Letterewe. Depart 3 a.m., arrive Poolewe 8.00 a.m., back to Poolewe 9.00 p.m., Glasgow 7.00 a.m. after at least 10 stops and 8 sleeps on the way down the road! There are, I'm sure, enough stories to fill a book! [Ed].
Too much of a good time had been had by all the weekend just preceding midsummer to be able to generate much enthusiasm for this year’s midsummer meet.
As far as I know this meet did not occur due to a lack of anyone organising it!
I am assured that this meet did take place but I have heard nothing of it.
As usual it proved impossible to find anyone interested in this summer meet.
The following report has been received from Alan McLean:
A truly awful weather forecast failed to discourage Club members speeding up the A9 on a damp Friday night. Although mid-summer, the outlook was uniformly wet. However rain has never been a bar to serious drinking in huts and, as jobs and towns were left behind, spirits rose. Arriving in time for a pint or two I discussed the merits of nightmare climbs on Creag Dubh confident that I wouldn’t have to climb them. Alan, a hillwalking veteran but too sensible to rock-climb, found himself drawn (bored?) into the conversation and a consensus was reached: we would teach Alan how to climb! A damp grey morning agreed with the forecast and it was clear that Creag Dubh was too damp so we headed for Huntly’s Cave. “Lovely and dry under the overhang” we told Alan. “Plenty of easy rock. You’ll love it. Great sport”.
The rain began soon after we arrived. Alan was polite but bemused as we huddled under the crag half an hour later, fighting for the driest spot. The easiest chimneys had become nature’s storm drains and midges turned our legs into bloody pizzas. We declined to climb and started an impromptu gear masterclass for our unfortunate novice. Our Friends pulled out of the wet cracks with ridiculous ease. Alan thought we were all daft: I could tell from the way he said, “You’re all daft”. After an hour of this “Scottish climbing” sanity prevailed and, after a tea-shop stop in Grantown, we visited the Glenmore Lodge indoor wall where Alan finally got his first arm pump and Donald out-climbed the rest of us.
Davie and Neil arrived on the Saturday night when the main entertainment was Donald’s gadget collection. Recent trips to the USA have supplemented his extensive armoury of climbing gear and related knick-knacks, gee-gaws and thingamajigs. I admit to being a bit of a gear tart myself but Donald’s single-minded pursuit of arcane, complicated, and, above all, cheap climbing equipment is impressive. “Look at this beautiful Camm-o-matic Wondernut. Made in an Inuit prison on Baffin Island from walrus tusk and recycled beer cans. Only three bucks in the States. Cost you sixty quid here…”. We started a silly quiz: “Is this thing a) a SatNav b) a robotic self-placing piton or c) another bit fallen off Alan Dunn’s MG?”
Rain persisted, climbing plans were abandoned, and two parties set off in the Sunday morning gloom. Ben Vrackie was the target for Donald, Neil, Davie and Alan. John, Andy and I stopped at Drumochter to climb Carn na Caim and A’Bhuidheanach Bheag and in between squalls, enjoyed a little sunshine on springy turf with views of Ben Alder and the Cairngorms. Great hut, awful weather, good weekend.
The following report has been received from Vicky Stewart:
Festivities began on the Friday night: a few beers opened. Not too many though. On the Saturday morning met Katy, who had travelled up from York, and Ann’s friends from Inverness in the car park. Ann led us to her last Munro, Spidean Coire nan Clach. We walked through Coire Dubh Mor along a well constructed path, round into Coire Mhic Fhearchair.
Stopped at the side of Loch Coire Mhic Fhearchair for a spot of lunch and to enjoy the view of the triple buttress and the northern landscape as the clouds cleared to the north-east. John was around, as ever, with his camcorder. Haven’t seen the finished article so hopefully he’s avoided my chest this time.
We then carried on around the loch at the usual calm “last Munro” pace. The next part of the plan was to head up to the bealach between Coinneach Mhor and Ruadh- stac Mor. The front of the crew continued on as stated whereas Colwyn suggested to the back crew to head up to the left — “A little detour I believe. A short cut to Ruadh-stac Mor.” Following this experienced person’s suggestion we walked in that direction, except it wasn’t quite the easier ascent expected! A touch more scrambling and scree was encountered than the front crew were experiencing! And then the said experienced person tried to blame me! I think not!
In the end we all safely met on the shoulder of Ruadh-stac Mor and tried to avoid close-ups on the camcorder on the summit. Mmm, maybe I am curious as to how this one has turned out‡. Davie then ran off to Sail Mhor and joined us later. We met up with Neil McCoogan and two others who had set off from the eastern end to do the whole ridge. We then reached Stob Coire nan Clach where Ann received all the kisses and the champagne was opened. Some enjoyed the champagne more than others! Sheena enjoyed some help down from a friend other than Alan or her husband. Interesting descent!
Back at the hut Ann had prepared a great dinner, satisfying the hunger of all — well myself definitely. Many bottles of wine were emptied, John Bickerdike entertained us with a couple of tricks. Alan and Sheena entertained us with … em … with their personable selves, and a little help from alcohol. No — a large help from alcohol. The phrase “completely hammered” springs to mind.
Later, as the last of us climbed into our sleeping bags, Alan re-surfaced having remarkably and successfully climbed to the top bunk earlier (unfortunately the contents of his stomach also re-surfaced at the front door of the hut). As he tried to get down from the top bunk his foot missed the step and he swung round full speed, only stopping when his head smashed on the wood. Claire and I being treated, no, subjected, to the sight of a swinging torso, gangly legs and a small item of black clothing. A Chippendale he is not. Hilarious it was! (I’m sorry Alan — had to! But I did get back up and check you hadn’t fallen in the burn, didn’t I?!!)
Next morning it was the usual Torridon rain. Climbing attempts aborted, coffee in the Ben Damph Hotel and the end of another celebration of a successful last Munro.
There’s emerging a pattern at these occasions. Someone celebrates while someone else makes a hysterical fool of themselves!!
David Lawson is scared — he’s postponed his now!
Anyway, congratulations again Ann.
‡ John — you should have been at Killin with that camera. Could’ve made a few bob out of blackmail and bribery. Not that I’m insinuating you’re a man with such vices, but you missed good footage there!
This meet apparently failed to occur.
The following report has been received from Vicky Stewart:
So it’s back to the sober adventure of exploring new mountains — no last Munro parties this weekend. A couple of new faces turning up, some able to follow directions to the hut — some not (Nothing to do with the quality of directions given!). Doesn’t bear well for tackling terrain that is not tarmaced and signposted. Suffice to say Jesse got completely lost/confused for a significant length of time on Friday night around Dalwhinnie whilst thinking he was somewhere else. We’ll leave it there and not mention the broken shower too!
Saturday — Dave, Jesse, Paul and I headed up into the white abyss, otherwise known as Creag Pitridh, Geal Charn and Beinn a’Chlachair: great opportunity for Jesse to use his GPS or watch complete with altimeter and compass. But no, the desire to take upon this chance was avoided.
On Geal Charn we had a view over to Beinn Bheoil and Ben Alder for literally a few seconds. But yet, the highlight of the day I do recall. Not a stressful day with minimal descent and ascents between hills.
Sunday — joined by Davie and Neil on Beinn a’Chaorainn and Beinn Teallach. We seemed to be in the pocket of sunshine with huge dark clouds all around. Makes a change. The ascent was “annoyingly tussocky” according to Claire! The light towards the end of the day was quite spectacular. Honest! The view towards the Loch Treig hills, Grey Corries etc. was quite eerie — thunderous.
Titus and Paul went climbing — never heard anything. Although I do believe they’re still alive.
Monday — Claire and Neil walked up Carn Liath. I opted for something low level and just when you think nothing exciting could possibly happen here, it did! A young attractive Irish rural postman offered me a lift. Not wanting to miss out on possible fun, I certainly didn’t let on that walking was my intention (a lot to be said for spontaneity!). And I spent the next hour or so hurtling along the country roads surrounding Blair Atholl with Mr. Rural Postie in his jeep doing the rounds!!!! Whey hey, a timely end!!
The following report has been written by Donald Ballance
The meet very nearly convened for the first time in Anniesland Safeway, as members stocked up on their provisions. One outcome of this was that David’s rucksack was added to the pile of gear in the back of Dave’s Saab. This provided entertainment as we drove up the road past Fort William and thought of the various different places we could leave his sack. The favourite was on the back of one of the Commandos at the memorial near Spean Bridge, but in the end we opted for leaving the car open with the sack in the boot. A cloudy night with no moon would seem unpromising for torchless walking, but that’s what was managed as we walked into A’Chuill, arriving between 1.00 and 1.30 a.m.
Not surprisingly, given the dubious weather and the late night, it was not until after 9.30 a.m. that most of us emerged from our sleeping bags, and with the prospects of nothing more than a walk into Sourlies, the pace of breakfast was relaxed. All except David that is: he was jumping round like an excited small dog anxious to get going. It was not until we were slowly packing up that David intimated his prior intent to finish off two of his remaining three Munros that day … some 15 miles away in Knoydart and a long day starting from there even in mid-summer. Starting that this late hour at this time of year made this prospect unreasonable and so the journey to Sourlies was set as the day’s objective.
Upon arriving there some felt the need for further rest, while Donald set out on his usual quest to denude the surrounding area of any dead wood and arrived back at the bothy an hour later with a rucksack full of wood. Meanwhile Alan had been quietly refreshing himself with the contents of a small bottle of whisky.
Not content with just producing bothy food of a high culinary standard, Niel and Dave decided that entertainment should be provided for the other occupants and we were treated to a Two Fat Cooks special.
Looking through the bothy books it is clear that significant number of bothy users have problems with the fire: it seems to fill the bothy with more smoke than heat, and so it proved that night. After starting the fire, and it seeming to draw, too much enthusiasm for stoking the fire was demonstrated. Thus it was that sometime that evening all seven of us could be found standing outside the hut in the gentle rain while we waited for the fire to die down and the smoke to disperse.
The rain that day was nothing to the rain that night and the following morning. Small, insignificant burns down the hill opposite became raging white lines and the small burn by the bothy enlarged to such an extent that it diverted and flowed past the front door. Alan made great play of the efficacy of his patent green bothy boots.
The only option for the day was a walk out to the cars which provided some interest with overflowing burns and rivers to cross and a path under eighteen inches of water where the lochs had risen. No hills, but an enjoyable weekend nevertheless.
The following report has been written by Donald Ballance:
The party split three ways for the Saturday. Vicky and Claire headed south to Carn Bhac while the rest headed north from the Linn of Dee. Most completed a long traverse of Beinn a’ Chaorainn and Beinn Bhreac while John Goldie wandered up to the Etchachan Hut and then on to the summit of Derry Cairngorm.
On the Sunday morning the remainder of us were amazed at discovering that Vicky and Claire had departed for their hill at the ridiculously early hour of 7.30 a.m. I’m not sure that they actually did any hills that day as there was some confusion as to whether An Socach had been previously climbed by Claire, and whether the day was sufficiently nice to repeat the hill.
After an abortive attempt to find petrol, and a successful attempt to shake off Andrew and Alan, we finally met up half way down Glen Clunie and had a short, sharp ascent of Creag nan Gabhar. And that was the weekend, except for Andrew who had an exciting trip down to Blairgowrie in his Porsche trying to shake off a turbo-charged hatchback.
No meet report yet.
No report has yet been received on this excellent meet.
Curry Nights and Informal Slide shows will continue to take place on the fourth Wednesday of most months. The venue for the Curry Nights will be decided by the convenor (and need not actually be an Indian restaurant), while the format for the informal slide shows is that the host will arrange for the slides and provide the venue, while attendees will provide food and refreshments.
Most of these meets need convenors. Please volunteer as a meet convenor if you are definitely intending going on any of these meets. Hopefully a new newsletter will be out by the time these meets occur, however if they are not, please contact the Secretary or one of the other committee members.
Don’t have any information to hand. If you are interested contact Vicky who should have their past newsletters.
At the AGM in November the following committee was elected for 1999/2000:
| Honorary Member | Alan Thrippleton |
| Honorary President | Sandy Donald |
| Honorary Vice-President | Andrew Sommerville |
| President | Donald Ballance |
| Vice-President | Dave Eaton |
| Secretary | Vicky Stewart |
| Meet’s Secretary | David Lawson |
| Treasurer | Andrew Sommerville |
| Coruisk Bookings | Sandy Donald |
| Coruisk Maintenance | Alex Haddow |
| Other Members | Alan Dunn, Mark Evans, John Fenemore, Claire Gilchrist, Ann MacDonald, Scott Stewart, Ian Thomson. |
The next committee meeting will be on Monday 24th January at Donald Ballance’s flat, 1/R 11 Airlie Street, Hyndland, Glasgow. Any items for discussion should be mentioned to committee members before then.
Subscriptions for 2000 are now due and a subscription form is enclosed for that purpose. The rate for 2000 is maintained at £10.00. Please complete and return this year’s form together with a cheque as soon as possible.
Subscriptions for 1999 are now long overdue. The rate for 1999 was £10.00. If you have not paid up your name appears on the blacklist for 1999 below.
All queries regarding membership subscriptions should be addressed to the Treasurer, Andrew Sommerville, Stronvay, Station Road, Langbank, Renfrewshire. PA14 6YA.
At the committee meeting on 18th March the following were admitted
to the club:
Clair Bale, John Bickerdike, Catherine Watt and Tony Walker
Dave Eaton is arranging a meet to Corsica for two weeks over Easter. He is planning to have a meeting of all interested in going on the meet on Wednesday 2nd February. The planned dates are approximately 15th – 30th April.
It is hoped to produce a new Section Handbook early in the new year. Please ensure that your contact details are correct on the subscription form and return it as soon as possible.
Email addresses provided by members will be included in the handbook and also included in the section alias that exists to contact members of the club electronically. Personal email addresses and the mailing list should not be used for jokes, circulars, petitions etc. This will be considered an abuse of the purpose for which the addresses are provided to members of the club.
Secretarial matters should be addressed to:
Vicky Stewart, 2/R 260 West Princes Street Street, Woodlands,
Glasgow. G4 9DP.
Home Tel: 0141 334 6859
Email: TrixyVixy@hotmail.com
URL: http://www.mech.gla.ac.uk/JMCS/
Last modified Friday, 25-Apr-2008 18:19:10 BST, by Donald Ballance
