Putting something back.......

I've run in plenty of races over this last 10 years or so. I've pre-entered, I've turned up on race day and paid my fee, I've run, I've enjoyed post-race refreshments and, on the odd occasion, I've walked off with a wee prize.

And I've always appreciated those people who make the race possible. From the organiser, to the marshalls, to the ladies who bake, the businesses who support etc. I've marshalled on a regular basis, because I can't expect others to do it if I won't. I've always been an advocate of the rule "none of our club runners run unless they supply a marshall". And, whatever the race, whatever the conditions, and however tired I may be, I always take time to thank marshalls out on the fells doing a wonderful job.

Which is all well and good. But then we came to stay up here, noticed that the local Knockfarrel Hill Race hadn't taken place and, upon asking, were informed that nobody had come forward to organise it. So we offered. It's a race with a great history and, in an area with precious little racing anyway, it seemed like the perfect time to really put something back into this wonderful sport we enjoy.

So, having decided that, we also then decided that it would be a real shame if it missed a year, so we'd put it on in November this year before reverting to April in 2012.

Now then, we'd organised the Calder Valley winter handicap when we were down in Yorkshire, and Kirsten has organised events for her work down in Calderdale in the past, but this was a whole new ball game!

One of the things that most bothered us was....how many people would turn up? For a local race in July, only 25 turned up. At Meall a Bhuachaille a couple of weeks earlier, a couple of hundred did! How on earth do you pitch your race? We publicised it in all sorts of places, I got in touch with every club within touching distance and we spread the news by word of mouth. Word came in of people coming from as far as Huntly, Caithness, Carnethy, Dundee. We decided that we might have up to 100. Local knowledgeable folk reckoned 50-60.

Kirsten did a great job of getting several local businesses to contribute, I put out flyers and spoke to landowners. We ran the course, several HHRs came out and cleared the gorse off the 2nd ascent....and we were down to the last week! The Community Centre was hired for registration and post-race refreshments, but there was a long list of jobs still to do as we got to Wednesday.

For a start, we hadn't got enough marshalls and offers were thin on the ground. Club AGM this weekend and I might be mentioning the old club rules on running and marshalling! Secondly, we had to test all the equipment and found out we had no red/white tape to mark the course, and no paper for the timing machine....mad dash to the DIY store and a stationery store!

There was also soup to make for 100 people! I enjoyed that! And a big shopping trip to buy rolls, chocolate, tea, coffee and milk. And then a spreadsheet to set up, ready to accept entrants and to automatically process results as I entered finishing numbers.

Finally, on Friday lunchtime, I met Roger Robb and we taped the whole course so that nobody could possibly get lost! And, if they did....well it's a hill race! Use your map!

Saturday dawned warm and dry....great conditions for a race. We set up at the Centre and, at 11.45, the entries started coming in. We had a real surge of them and, in amongst the entries, the name "Joe Symonds"...wow, we'd got a real gem come along! Next entry....Finlay Wild!! 2 of the best runners in Scotland had come to our race!!

The pace of entries slowed a bit and, in the end, we came in at a manageable 71...which was a record for the race in a non-Championship year and more than we had realistically hoped for. Fantastic!

So 1pm came and, after shouting out a few things at the assembled runners, I set them off towards the muddy fields...with Kirsten shouting across "the timer won't start"!! We sorted that out within seconds and had a backup manual stopwatch so knew all times had to have 5 seconds added to them.

We watched as the runners headed up the steep slope and along the Cat's Back...and then waited. Eventually, after 38 minutes, Joe Symonds came sprinting towards the finish in 1st place, a fantastic run and a really nice guy. There was then quite a gap until Finlay Wild appeared in 2nd, having taken a couple of "detours", it transpired.

Runners then came through on a regular basis and I was dashing between Joan, doing manual number recording, and Kirsten, on the timer, to ensure they had the same number of finishers! Boy was I glad when that last person came home and we were all done, everyone back safely and all results properly recorded.

Back to the Centre and Gillian and Gary did a wonderful job of ensuring everyone got soup and a roll and helped them to cups of tea and coffee. After a bit of spreadsheet sorting, I was able to announce the results and hand out a good number of prizes. We received plenty of "thank yous" and several comments to the effect that the race should remain at this time of year. And the, eventually, we were able to pack up and head home, absolutely shattered but both really pleased that we'd been able to put on the race and it had been a relative success.

We will do it all again next year, and we will run a race in November, even if it isn't this one. Despite all the stress, it is rewarding and it is nice to put on a race. If we don't, how can we expect others to? And, in future (remind me of this) I will have a new and enlightened attitude towards Race Organisers and will not be difficult, ask daft questions, even contemplate not following or moaning about their requests and will definitely NOT try and get my position and/or time whilst the finish marshalls or the RO is trying to process results!!

Roll on next year.

Photos at https://picasaweb.google.com/101724702611594699195/Knockfarrel?authkey=Gv1sRgCObfmePB76fDcw

Results on HHR website

We Could All Be Dead Tomorrow, says the Whore to the Hero

Another gap in updating. It's not for want of exciting things to write about, new experiences to relate or wonderful observations of the changing face of nature to recount. All those things and more have been happening, and I grasp the precious opportunity that's been presented to live amongst the trees of the forest and be truly in awe and inspired by all that is occurring around me.

But, strangely, I've not felt compelled to commit it to "paper", rather I've seized the chance to file the memories in my mind. Similarly, I haven't been taking photos. Now, fair enough, that's partly due to a problem with our camera but, even so, I've not felt the need to capture the images, except within my own head.

As for the running, it's been sporadic. I've talked about committing to something next Spring/early Summer and, yet, my commitment to training has so far not recognised this.

Reflecting upon the times in my life when my running has been at its best, it's hard to ignore the simple fact that my greatest achievements have come either after the breakdown of a relationship, or within the early periods of a new relationship....."I'll show you" or "I'll impress you" seem to be the mantras to my limited success.

But now I find myself very much content and "settled down" (what a strange phrase to use when you love someone dearly enough to want to be with them forever...."settle"!) with the right person, who I want to spend the rest of my life with and I'm faced with a dilemma - can I summon up the motivation internally which is required to train as hard as I would like to, without those external influences?

The answer is invariably "yes", as I know only too well from my own experiences, and all that I read about motivation. That means, then, that I must examine myself to see if my commitment is sufficient to push forward with my training again. I've enjoyed not being in competition so much, and there's a part of me which would like to take all that I've done, and now turn it towards more "leisurely" pursuits, in terms of just enjoying long distance routes through the hills.

But then I get that nagging feeling....life moves on, I'm not as young as I was and, in terms of "peak" fitness, I might only have 3 or 4 years of really decent standard running left in me before I HAVE to accept a slow down. And it would be a shame to "waste" that and regret it when I look back.

What I do know is that I'm really keen to help Kirsten attain the standards she'd like to over these next few years and, at only 33, she has her best years ahead of her for perhaps 10-15 years. It's easy for me to forget that she is essentially "new" to running because of all that she's done. I'm sure most of us will acknowledge that it took us 3-5 years to really get to grips with both the physical and mental side of competitive running....and there she is having only been running for 2 years, with a large proportion of that being long-distance, which is very different. Plenty more to come from her and I'm looking forward to doing what I can to support her. A decent finish at Langdale was a fine start.

Otherwise, I'm also keen to put something back into the sport I love and, with that in mind, we've taken on the organisation of the Knockfarrel race next month. It's daunting....we have no idea if we'll have 20 people or 150 people turn up....yikes! It'll be fun though, and we'll no doubt learn a lot for future races.

So, time I think to decide if I'll commit to a winter of decent training with a summer of real achievement next year. There's no halfway house, I'm either going to do it or I'm not and I'm well aware that there will be plenty of nights where I'd rather stay in but have to push myself out the door. Watch this space......

This blog is dedicated to my pin-up girl, my bargain playboy bunny :-)

What a Wonderful Place......

Just realised I haven't updated this for a while. It's not for a lack of fantastic trips out onto the fells. Life's zipping by quickly living up here, enjoying this special place and watching the seasons change in front of us.

Autumn is here with a vengeance. You really notice it living in the woods. The colours started to appear several weeks ago and since then, they've changed rapidly and the whole area now has a carpet of leaves.

It's an incredibly beautiful time of year and yet, at the same time, there is some sadness. A week or so ago, the swallows, who have appeared every time I've walked Rufus part a particular field, disappeared, presumably headed for sunnier climes to the south. I'll miss their playful kamikaze flight and their cheerful song.

Similarly, the red kite are well down in numbers. It became such a familiar sight to see them soaring over the tops of the trees. We almost took them for granted. And yet I really notice now they're not there. I spotted one of the buzzards last week though. I heard its call first, and then it came in low over the trees.

The upside is that the roe deer are already more apparent, with one casually nibbling away at the grass over 100 yards from the house in broad daylight. It looked up when I made a noise, but returned to its meal unperturbed!

Running-wise, I feel like I'm getting some fitness back and we've been doing regular weekly speed sessions and plenty of hills. It's a good while since I had any speed and I'm therefore nowhere near what I used to be. But it's coming back, I'm definitely quicker than I was a couple of months ago. We even popped down to a park run on Saturday, to test ourselves over 5k. It's hard to say how it would translate to road time because it was on sodden grass and there was a headwind on the toughest part of the course, but I was under 21 minutes so that's not too bad.

Langdale is upcoming, I'm looking forward to that. I shan't be racing, just looking to pace Kirsten around in a good time. Most importantly, I'll need to keep her at a pace to get through the Esk Hause cut-off. Once past there, she'll fly on the decent descents!

We've been up and down Ben Wyvis any number of times, getting climbing in our legs. We've had wild days, nice days and, last week, the first Ben Wyvis bat run! Thoroughly enjoyable and we'll look forward to more.

Yesterday, we headed out to the gorgeous Strathconon, surely one of the most beautiful glens in the Highlands. I wanted to take Kirsten up Meallan nan Uan and Sgurr a Mhuilin, two wonderful corbetts that I'd been up a couple of months ago.

We parked the car and headed up the steep, pathless slopes to Creag Ruadh, the first summit. It's a tough climb and we both worked hard on tired legs. From there, it's a fantastic ridge to Meallan nan Uan, the slopes on the west falling away steeply for 2000ft. The wind was strong up top and a rain shower blasted in briefly, before we hit the main top and took shelter for a moment or two.

All around, we could hear the eerie sound of stags calling out from the hillsides. We're well into rutting season and their low growls provided a suitable accompaniment to our run. We spotted a herd of deer down below, at the col we were heading for. We descended quickly down the steep slopes but, as we neared the col, they were now nowhere to be seen....until I suddenly sensed movement close in front of me and the whole herd, surprised by our close presence, galloped across no more than 50 yards in front of us! What a wonderful sight.

We headed across the col and climbed the boggy slopes of the Sgurr, onto the final summit ridge to reach the cairn and then start the exciting descent down off the ridge. Once down, we headed across to the burn by the least wet route possible! We then trudged through ankle deep bog to the final drop down to the car and, 2.5 hours after starting, the sanctuary of the car.

Strathconon is so beautiful, and our imaginations were fired by finding that the small church is for sale. How beautiful would a converted church down there be?!? We may dream....or we may just do it!

Meallan nan Uan from the col

So Close And Yet So Far........

I don't figure in the placings for races as a rule. It was a real shock to hear my name being called at prizegiving after Glas Tulaichean earlier this year, despite the low numbers. And, despite several high-placed finishes since living up north, I do expect to see the lead runners pulling away into the distance pretty early on.

So it was a surprise, after 1/4 mile of the Assynt Games Hill Race, to look back and see the field dropping away and only two younger lads (they were running juniors and seniors together) for company. It was a strange position to be in, but it didn't take long to weigh up the fact that the younger lads probably wouldn't keep that pace up for over 2 miles and therefore things were looking good.

There was no information on the race route, so no real idea of what it entailed. We were just told "follow the marked course up through the woods and round". With my focus on maintaining the pace, I had no real idea how long I'd been going or how far, but was aware that there was nobody in sight behind me, and just the two lads a wee bit ahead but not far.

And I was feeling good and going well and I was already relishing the prospect of entering the games field as first male. And then I came to a T-junction. No markings, no arrows, both ways quickly turned tightly so I couldn't see where the two lads had gone. I had no idea where to go. I quickly scooted right to see if I could tell which way....no sign. Back to the T-junction, I scooted left, again no clues. Back to the T-junction and the first of the other runners were now coming through and all looking confused. A couple headed right and kept running. I looked around for any clues. Then Kirsten came around the corner as well and, with several people having taken the right path, we decided to follow.

This, of course, put me way back in the field again, and I doubled my efforts, particularly once I saw what had been the 2nd placed male not too far ahead. I worked really hard and finally caught him on the last rise before the drop down into the Games field, only to have nothing left in the tank for the fast finish.

And so I finished just behind him. But, lo and behold, there were already quite a few runners back at the finish, having taken the left hand option which cut out at least a mile! So, from being 1st male, I finished somewhere mid-pack. Kirsten still hadn't appeared, which worried me slightly, since she had been just behind the 1st lady when I last saw her.

Eventually, she came jogging back in, accompanied by a young girl who, it seems, had got lost at the same place, wandered around and became distressed thinking she was never going to get out of the woods! So, Kirsten stopped to help her, having heard her shouting for help, and in the process lost out on 2nd lady.

All a bit disappointing in the end but, perhaps more importantly, a bit worrying youngsters could be heading off the wrong way in the woods on their own. Something to remember if/when I get some short woodland races going next Spring. I can't imagine I'll be in that position again, being right at the front, but I can now say I know what that buzz feels like when you look back and realise you're pulling away from the field... lovely!

Other than that, I had a lovely day on Fionn Bheinn a couple of weeks ago. A splendid grassy munro, toiled up at race pace in less than an hour and a half, I contoured along the ridge and then dropped down a perfect grass descent to do the whole round in less that 2.5 hours. Not many munros you can do that on!

Then, last Sunday, myself, Kirsten, Richard R and Claire headed up Ben Wyvis from the main car park on a cloudy, blustery day which turned into an absolute cracker, with glorious warm sunshine. Some effort on the up, particularly from Kirsten...good training for Langdale! A nice trot along the top, a grassy descent into the bealach, a contour on a deer track before a heather-clad plunge down the side of the burn, which again Kirsten tore into, descending superbly.

It was quite tough thereafter, with boggy ground making the traverse back to the path tiring, but good company ensured it passed quickly. Back on the path, we headed down at a good pace to finish the whole round in 3 hours of fun, including some bilberry picking! A lovely day out.

And so to today, the sun is finally shining and, once I've got some chores done here, I may head over to Strathconon for a wee traverse of the Sgurr a Mhuillin ridge. More to follow....

Highland Games

The summer racing season in Scotland is very much dominated by the Highland Games hill races. Short, tough races which mimmick the days when one of the clan would be sent up the nearest major hill to signal/look out etc.

We'd not been to a Highland Games yet, and let's be honest, short sharp races aren't my thing. But with Strathconon Games taking place last Saturday, and advertised as remaining low-key and true to the roots, it seemed like a must-do. Especially with the weather being absolutely wonderful.

We had no idea what time the race started but it said to register by 11.45am and the opening ceremony was midday. So we turned up at about 11.35, to be told the race started at midday as well! No time to mess about, no time to do a warm up.

But just enough time to talk to Ross B, who pointed out the implausible route of the race, straight up the front of a craggy, near vertical slope! It looked a wee bit intimidating, and there was certainly no run-in to use as a warm-up. Straight onto the steep slopes.

So we changed into the tartan shorts and lined up with 27 other runners (of all ages) for the Chieftain of the Games to start us off. Immediately we had to jump a drainage trench in the peat and then it was hell-for-leather heading for the slope. It didn't take long to become a walk, and for hands to start grasping at heather to pull up the slope. The heat was unbearable, the legs struggling and I was not feeling good. The only consolation was that several others were clearly feeling the same!

I was a bit disappointed in my climb, which is usually my strength. In my defence, I've had a tough couple of weeks of training, but even so... Soon enough, we were at the marshall on top, and directed across boggy, pathless heather on a quick descent and then across boggy peat to the hill track that would lead us back to the field.

I overtook several on the initial descent and then flew down the track at a decent speed. It seemed to go on a while, but soon enough, I was flying down the last slope and heading for the Games field. And, as I did, the piper started up, piping each runner back in....wow! Certainly makes you run tall. And, as I turned into the Games field, I noticed that a large crowd was now sitting on the grass watching the games and I got a good cheer and clap :-)

I sat and chatted with a few of the other runners, drinking plenty of water, and waited for Kirsten to come in, having done really well considering what a tough race it is. Plenty of runners behind her, a good performance.

After that, we went and sat in the sun, drank a couple of beers, had burgers and cake and chatted to various other Highland Hill Runners, relaxing on the grass. And then the sports started up again and, somehow, we all egged each other on into taking part in the 110,220 and 440 yd "dash" races!! With tired legs and a stomach full of beer and cake, this was not a good idea! I came last in the 220 and the 440!! But it was great fun nonetheless. And, as we sat roasting in the sun, watching the strongmen tossing the caber and hurling the hammer, against a backdrop of glorious mountains, we were able to reflect on how wonderful life is up here and what lovely people we're meeting as well.

This weekend sees our local Strathpeffer Highland Gathering. Another hill race, up Knockfarrel, for us to enjoy and we'll see what else we get up to once the beer kicks in! :-)

Just for good measure, we popped out on Sunday and put a good uphill walking effort in on Am Foachagach. Straight up and down in well under 3 hours and Kirsten was flying on the grassy descent. She had a broad smile at this, having felt she'd lost this ability a bit because of all the hard track descents we've been doing. Suffice to say I couldn't keep up on the grassier, steeper bits, and she put a tremendous walking effort in on the way up which will be more than enough to get her round Langdale in October. Fantastic!

Meanwhile, back in Shropshire......

....council employees in Telford have been served with 90 days notice on their jobs and been told that they will be re-employed after that if they agree to new conditions which include a 5.4% pay cut. Otherwise, goodbye. Sacked. Not redundant apparently!

At the same time (you couldn't make it up), the Chief Executive, who hasn't been there that long, has apparently decided that he doesn't fit in with the plans of the council and has offered to resign.....for which he's getting a "redundancy" payment of £125,000!! And then they're looking to hire a new interim Chief Executive!

All in it together, right?

Anyway, onto much more agreeable matters, and a tough old week of training. Last Friday saw us meet up with the Bannermans over at Fyrish and. while the girls had a 5 or 6 mile trot out, Ross ran me ragged over plenty of new paths, covering approximately 8 miles at not a million miles off my race pace! Nice! Smashing evening though, and great company to run with.

Then Saturday saw us head up the road for a leisurely day out on 4 munros in the Fannaichs. A cold day on the tops, and a long, tiring trek back from the furthest peak. But we didn't half enjoy being able to sit in Scooby and brew up before heading home!!

Then on Sunday, we picked up Claire and headed over to Fochabers, for the Gala hill race, a 5.5 mile run around the wooded hills. It was quite a trek over there, and the cloud and wind increased as we headed east. We arrived and registered, and had a chat with a couple who saw Kirsten's Calder Valley hoodie and turns out they're good friends with Alan Greenwood.

Socialising over with, we donned HHR tops and the tartan shorts got another outing! The legs were definitely tired from the day before, and I struggled to hold on in the initial 3 miles of gentle up. There was then a half mile steeper uphill to the highest point, before a 2 mile downhill, which suited me perfectly and I flew down to overtake the person in front and finish 8th! Pleased with that.

Claire came in looking sick and having clearly worked hard and Kirsten followed soon after, looking pretty much the same and feeling quite wrecked from 3 consecutive days of decent training. That'll stand her in good stead in due course.

On Wednesday, I headed back out to Glascarnoch and a tough day on Am Foachagach. The usual boggy path across to it had been dried out by the sun, and the river crossing was simple. But the heat was a problem during the ascent to the ridge. I'd banked on it being colder and had 2 tops on...mistake!

It's a splendid hill despite the books saying it's dull. It has some of the best views going, immediately west into Beinn Dearg and Cona Mheall, south to the southern Fannaichs, An Teallach, the Fisherfield hills, Slioch etc and north to the marvellous hills of Assynt.

Instead of heading back down the path, I dropped north to the bealach between it and Cona Mheall and then headed south down the pathless valley, passing three lochs on the way back. It was hot, the going was tough, the flies were out in force, and it took some willpower to keep a decent pace going. Again though, it was lovely to get back and relax in the van with a nice cool milkshake and reflect on a smashing day.

And then last night, I met up with another local runner Graham Briffett, who it turns out, is planning his BG for 13th August. Plenty to talk about, lots of past in common, smashing new paths over the Cat's Back and around to Loch Kinellan. I think Graham took it at a trot, while I had to work and was feeling the previous day in my legs and breathing. Great run out though, including wading through head-high bracken and being scratched by thorns and raspberry bushes!

And so to the weekend, a good weather forecast and the whole of the northern Highlands on our doorstep.....life is good!!!

The Power of Big Business...

This week, I got the chance to see how the energy companies operate when it comes to plastering wind turbines all across our wild land. It was an enlightening experience. Of course, I already know that a certain amount of "brain-washing" appears to have taken place whereby, to even question the effectiveness of these monstrosities gets you labelled a "climate change denier" amidst cries of NIMBYism.

I went and attended a public consultation at Culbokie in respect of the planned industrial development of the Carn Liath Wind Farm.

Now let's start with that. It's not the "Carn Liath" development, it's a development on Ben Wyvis. So trick number one is always, ALWAYS come up with a nice cuddly name that doesn't conjure up images of iconic mountains being covered in metal.

I read the information boards and I chatted to one of the representatives, not from the company who are actually doing the development, but from what is effectively their PR fronting company. I was not in any way confrontational, asked pertinent questions and gave him every opportunity to respond and convince me that this was a necessary development.

First and foremost, I recognise that the SNP are 100% committed to onshore wind power, and therefore it makes no sense to argue the case against because this will have no effect or purpose.

Therefore, it seems to me, each wind factory proposal has to be looked at on its own merits and arguments made for or against development in a particular area. And this was the gist of most of my questions.

And what came out of reading the boards and talking to the representative were;

i) Photo montages are put up to show what the view will be. But, and this is a huge but, they are clearly "photoshopped" so that colours are dulled, taken on a day when skies are grey, and thus it appears as though you can hardly see the turbines against the background. This, of course, in reality is patently untrue and they stick out like sore thumbs.

ii) The representative simply could not answer a number of my questions. They weren't, in my opinion, difficult questions and I would expect anyone involved in the development to know the answers (eg what is the optimum wind speed in mph for the turbines? How often has this occurred on this site during testing?).

iii) The other "trick" is to say that an expert (peat expert, ornithology expert etc) has undertaken studies, but then inform you that they are neither present at the consultation nor will there full results be published at any point!

iv) There were a couple of pieces of information which I requested but was told they would not be available unless a FOI request was made at a later date. Very transparent!

v) Did you know that turbines need to use a percentage of their own electricity to start the turbines up after being switched off and to heat them in cold conditions? I didn't. Of course, this amount ISN'T deducted from what they say the power output of the turbines is.

vi) The emphasis is constantly on telling you how much money the community and individuals (through "community investment") can make out of the turbines. Doesn't it strike you as odd that individuals, landowners and energy companies are ALL making huge returns on these things. Doesn't that say that this is NOTHING to do with climate change and CO2 and everything to do with profits? It does me.

vii) My understanding is that local councillors and MSPs should represent their community...is that not correct? The local community has come out strongly against this, as was evidenced by them collecting signatures to say as much, and yet I'm told the local councillor is backing it 100%. Democracy at its finest if that is true!

Anyway, I came away with more insight and I have registered my disapproval on the basis that THIS wind development is one too many because of the visual impact it has on an iconic mountain. I'm not overly hopeful, but then some interest is being generated and some reasonably influential people are against it, so who knows.

Hill 1 Airlie-Gilberts 0

This weekend was the first chance to head out for an overnight in our new campervan....so it had to be done! A quick look at the race calendar showed a couple of short races within driving distance, but one race stood out.....Glamaig!

I remember the long discussion about the steepest fell race on the FRA forum, and seem to remember Dungeon Ghyll getting votes based on 2300ft in 4 miles. Well that's tame compared to Glamaig. 2,600ft in just over 4 miles, with the first mile having negligible climb. Now THAT is steep!

I'd managed to get Kirsten to agree to doing it (by not showing her photos, assuring her she wouldn't be last and mentioning the ceilidh held afterwards!) and that was the plan, as long as the weather was ok and the cloud cover not too bad.

Driving across to the Kyle, the cloud was down on the munros, but not by much and the forecast was for the weather to clear up the further west we went. Everything was packed up for a cracking weekend away and it seemed surreal to be crossing the Skye bridge only just over an hour from home!

We travelled up the coast road and then finally came towards Sconser and views up towards Glamaig. My goodness it's a big, steep hill!! As we rounded the corner and head towards the campsite, the rain started in earnest, lashing down and bouncing off the road. And the cloud started to lower as well, obscuring the black cuillins completely.

Perhaps it would have been better if the cloud had stayed down! As it rose to reveal Glamaig in all its glory, the steepness of the hill hit home. Kirsten really doesn't like steep ascents, and this was looking the steepest in hill running! I'm not much taken with steep scree descents either, and was busy working out a grassy line down on the left hand side.

We stopped around for half an hour, taking Rufus out for a quick walk in the rain. We jumped back in the van with an hour and a half to go until race start, and the rain increased in intensity! Decision made....we were heading up the island in search of better weather and a more sedate day on the Trotternish ridge.

And a good decision it proved to be, as we walked the Cuith Raing, gazing in awe (as always) at the incredible spires and turrets of rock in this most majestic of places. Having had a quick trot up to the top to stand on the "table", we headed on north to find the breech in the cliffs and then head back over the top, to peer down into the abyss.

Drizzly rain just started as we headed back down to the van, having decided we could find no better spot in the world for our first night out in it than that top car park, with views of the ridge and out to sea.

We cooked tea, brewed up and then settled down for a wonderful night, waking to sheep surrounding the vehicle and mist clinging to its sides and restricting visibility to only a few yards! A leisurely morning ensued, having breakfast and packing up before heading down through torrential rain to Sligachan. We decided to cross over the bridge and go for a walk at Plockton, somewhere which holds lovely memories from my childhood holidays, and where the weather was much brighter and drier.

All in all, a lovely weekend....but no running!! And despite a splendid day, and plans to return and run the whole Trotternish ridge from Duntulm to Portree, we couldn't help feeling that Glamaig won the day and we need to mark it in the calendar for next year....and hopefully slightly better weather and stronger minds!! :-)

Lately...

....life seems to have been hectic! Need to catch up with a bit of a round-up of recent running etc.

First and foremost, we did our 2nd Scottish race a couple of weeks ago. The Fyrish hill race starts in Evanton, about 10 miles from us, and heads up through the forests, down a bit, up to the monument at the top and then plunges down over a 3 mile run to the finish.

We'd done a recce and knew it was fairly fast. We weren't sure how many runners to expect, but it didn't look like many! It was a warm-ish day, with sunshine breaking through about an hour before the race and making us quickly change into just vests for the race.

A bit of a warm-up and we were off....toiling up those forest tracks in the baking heat, dripping with sweat, our bodies unaccustomed to the warm conditions. I held back a bit early on knowing the path gets steeper and, indeed, I started passing people on the way up to the top. The field was spread out as I hung onto the tail of a tall, thin runner in front as we headed through the trees, absolutely plagued by flies buzzing around our heads.

The top was a relief as the flies disappeared and, after a quick gulp of water as I rounded the monument, it was time to peg it down the hill and try and catch the runner in front. Now I have to say, I'm not the greatest downhiller in the world(understatement!) but boy did I fly! I had a truly brakes off descent which saw me pass him about halfway down on the steepest section, and start to make up ground on the two runners some way in front.

I thought I'd catch them....until the path levelled out and I discovered that the fast downhill had left my legs shattered and full of jelly! I gritted my teeth and hung on in there, still making up ground but not enough to pass them. I passed through the finish line of the 7.5 mile & 1500ft race in under 65 minutes and it was as hard as I've raced for a good while, I'd given everything.

And that's when the message about Scottish hillrunning was re-enforced - I finished one place below midway in a field of just 28. Down in England, if I'd run like that I would have been well up in the top half, possibly on the edge of the top third. Ah well, something to work on....

As for Kirsten, she gave it everything as well. She was absolutely shattered as she crossed the line in 85 minutes. But again, a run like that would have left 20-30 runners behind her in any English race....not here!

It's strange, there is such a disconnect between the "JogScotland" runners and the "real" clubs. Fyrish was a perfect race for fell "newbies", and yet not one turned up, it was all old, gnarly hillrunners. Something more to work on I think, as we get to know more runners around here - they need tempting out onto the hills.

Training was going well that week and the week after, and I worked hard to put in some mileage and ascent, knowing that a trip down to England over the last week would see little running. And so it proved. Only one run down there, a trot around Widdop, Gorple and Heptonstall Moor on a sunny day.

Back up in Scotland now...but the rain's returned and I'm busy with some work, so no playing out today. Off for a run over Muir of Ord this evening, and then try and get out on the bike tomorrow. On Saturday, depending on the weather, we may head over to Skye in our new campervan(!!!!!!) and do the Glamaig race. It looks anything but my type of race, but it's one of those that just HAS to be done at some point. And a first race since joining the Highland Hill Runners, Kirsten will be hoping we can get hold of the tartan shorts in time!!!

Wandering the Strathfarrar hills.....

One of the places I've fancied going since we came here is Strathfarrar. It's a quite, beautiful glen with a gate that is manned by the gatekeeper in the cottage, with access in and out being restricted to certain hours.

With it being June, you can go in any time after 9am and leave until 8pm at the moment. I wasn't quite that early, but I was still parked up and ready to head up on a round of the four munros by 11.00am.

The initial walk up the path was pleasant but this turned into a boggy relentless trudge up steep slopes to the first summit of Sgurr Na Ruaidhe. The rain showers were crossing frequently and a chill wind was blowing up here...nothing like summer!

There was then a wonderful mossy descent to the low bealach between the first peak and Carn Nan Gobhar. It was a steep pull up there, although with fabulous views, with the last 200m being bouldery and slippy in the conditions. The good news was that the cloud was remaining above the summits and there were views in all directions - the Cromarty Firth, Ben Wyvis, the Fannaichs, the Mullardoch munros.

But what grabbed the attention more than anything was the very shapely next peak, Sgurr A Choire Ghlais. A beautiful cone, with an interesting looking path up to it. But first a quickish descent down to the bealach where I met my first person of the day - a very interesting man, who has a site "The Big Walks Club" and who, it turns out, is very interested in having a go at the Bob Graham. I assured him that, as a keen walker and decent runner, it was well within his grasp - especially since he was used to 12+ hour days in the hills.

After quite a long chat, I headed up the steep slopes, aware of a huge drop on the right into the coire, to emerge on the summit of the third munro. Again, the cloud was just above the top, giving some splendid views of the ridge to the next peak. The guide book had said it "narrows appreciably" but this wasn't really the case and it was in fact a splendid run along a high promenade to the final munro of the day, Sgurr Fhuar Thuill. For the first time, I was in cloud, and the rain turned to sleet then hail.

From the top of there, it was a beautiful, short grassy ridge run to pick up the stalker's path that runs down magnificently into the coire holding Loch Toll a Mhuic and then all the way down to the road. A 4 mile tarmac run then ensued on tired legs, but with breathtaking views to keep me busy, deer sitting idly by as I passed and a mind ticking over with possibilities for a long-distance route incorporating these hills.

A splendid day out in one of the best glens I've been down. I'll be back, with Kirsten next time. So much more to explore, with the rough ground around Loch Monar looking very enticing. A decent day out, around 15.5 miles and 5,200ft, all done in 5 hours including chats!

On a Clear Day You Can See Forever....

Another Wednesday, another chance to down tools and head out for a day in the hills. Well-timed this week as well, after the frustration of not getting out at all on Tuesday, glued to the PC trying to sort out a work issue.

The weather forecast was reasonable, but I awoke to rain and heavy grey clouds. The potential planned day out to Seana Braigh was dropped - I want good views when I go there. Instead, a plan formed to drive to the western end of Loch Glascarnoch and then, depending on conditions, either head south to a round of four munros, or north to the lonely munro Am Faochagach.

As it turned out, shafts of sunlight were bursting through the clouds by the time I parked by the weather station at the lochside and the clouds were noticeably lifting. So, decision made to head south, initially following the Abhainn an Torrain Duibh, to its junction with the Allt an Loch Sgeirich, where I headed up pathless slopes to skirt Creagh Dhubh Fannaich to reach the bealach below the first munro Beinn Liath Mhor Fannaich, which was an easy climb up increasingly bouldery slopes.

The mist was swirling around the top, but there were some views to be had. But I didn't linger, instead heading west along the cliff edge towards Sgurr Mor. Here a decision had to be made. I'd been up Sgurr Mor before and it was completely hidden by cloud. On its lower flanks, an impressive stalker's path winds its way across steep slopes to emerge below Meall nam Peithirean. I decided to take that, although it looked as though it was perched precariously above the drop.

In fact, it was no such thing and was a joy to trot around. Soon enough I was climbing the slopes of the intermediary top of Meall nam Peithirean and looking back to gain magnificent views of Sgurr Mor, on which the cloud had now gathered in the northern coire and was billowing up across the top, looking like an active volcano.

The route continued south-east onto the flat-topped munro of Meall Gorm and then down to the Bealach Ban. If my understanding of that is right, it's the "fair" bealach or "white" bealach? If so, that would seem to come from the strip of very light-coloured grass which rings the top of the coire lip.

From the bealach, it was a short pull up to the final munro of An Coileachan, from where it was obvious that the weather was closing in quickly, low cloud inching its way across the sky and rain now falling incessantly. From the top, it was a pathless steep drop, avoiding the crags, to pick up a path on the eastern side of Loch Gorm, which eventually dropped down to join the burn and a boggy, tough run of around 4 miles back to the car.

A wonderful day out on wild, remote hills. Fantastic views down to Loch Fannaich and across to the hills of the great wilderness. Definitely somewhere I shall be returning to explore more.

Who knows where the time goes......

We're off to support Dave A's Bob Graham this weekend. I can't wait. For several reasons;

a) It's been a good while since we were in the Lakes. I've quite missed it. Of course, there IS nowhere like Scotland and the mountains have a totally different quality to them up here. But it's still fantastic and much more accessible on foot than up here.

b) It's going to bring back some fantastic memories, of one of the best days of my life. And there's no doubt that's why a lot of BG folk go on supporting. They love to help others to achieve that same dream and they get a surge of memories as they head around the route again and cheer successful people in at the Moot Hall.

c) And, most importantly, Dave is a top person. He came out and helped on 3 legs for me last year, having never been involved in the BG before. On top of that, he's gone about his BG in the "right" way. He's supported so many rounds it's untrue, he's got out there, alone sometimes, with friends at others, and reccied and come to love and appreciate the route. And I know he understands the importance of the legacy and spirit of the BG. I really can't wait to see him run up to the Moot Hall on Saturday!

I do confess to being a little nervous about whether I can keep up with him. My fitness isn't at last year's levels and I've got a few niggles. But hopefully others will slow him down first and/or he'll be wanting to slow down and appreciate the views and make the most of the day on leg 4 with a sub-24 in the bag! I can but hope!!

But for now, a few memories......

This is just the best place in the world........

You can't beat Scotland, you really can't. I've been a few places and enjoyed them, I'd like to go to the Himalayas and the Andes. But I'm sure my heart will remain here in Scotland, wherever I am, and I'll always look forward to returning.

Six weeks on from the move, and we're probably now at a point (with us both working - albeit part-time for me) where reality sinks in and the holiday feeling leaves. And yet we talked about it yesterday and both agreed that life up here is just lovely, we feel right at home and we can't see ourselves ever moving back down south. But who knows what the future holds?

Any, living in the present, we headed out for a first "proper" hill day on Saturday, Rufus in the care of Russell the dogwalker for the day!

On Thursday, after much speculation, they announced the location for this year's LAMM...and it was only 30 miles up the road from us, starting at Inverlael Farm. It seemed opportune to go and do the circuit of the four "Beinn Dearg" munros and, at the same time, enjoy watching LAMMers heading all over the hillsides in search of flags and dibbers!

It dawned a beautiful morning, and we were parked up not long after 9am, having seen various groups being driven out on buses to start their LAMM at locations up near Loch Glascarnoch. Some started at Inverlael, and the last few were just setting off as we headed into the forests. Before setting off, we headed over to the start field to see if we could pick up a map - it'd be good practice to follow the courses at some point. A very kind marshall supplied us with 2 laminated maps....plenty to keep us going and I've already spent considerable time poring over it!

It was warm as we trotted the initial path in bright sunshine, through the forest. We emerged on the other side, and followed the path almost all the way to Lochan a Cnapaich before heading north-east up onto the summit plateau, where plenty of people were dibbing at the summit. A wonderful view from the summit, taking in the Fannaichs to the south, An Teallach standing majestically to the west. Beyond that, the hills of Torridon could be picked out, as could the Fisherfield Six and Slioch. The the north-west, the magnificent Sutherland monoliths stood in all their glory - Stac Pollaidh, Cul Beag, Cul Mor, Suilven, Canisp and Quinag. And, closer at hand, there were fantastic views across to the remote munro of Seana Braigh.

Having taken in the views, we headed down south-east to the bealach, passing plenty of LAMMers on the score event going the other way, before turning south-west and making our way through rocky crags to the second munro of the day, Meall nan Ceapraichean. As we did so, I spotted a ptarmigan close to us amongst the rocks. It made no move, despite our close proximity. We found out why a few seconds later, as 3 tiny ptarmigan chicks trotted out from behind a rock close by! At this, the mother turned agressive (as far as you can when you're a ptarmigan!) and flew towards us then started making as much noise as possible, following us until we were well away from her babies! What a wonderful privilege to see them.

Beyond them, a wee bit of rock-hopping brought us to the top (and another LAMM dibber). Again, wonderful panoramic views, with the cliffs of Beinn Dearg now prominent (together with the incredible "destitution wall" which runs along the ridge.

From there, it was quite a drop down to the lochans below Cona Mheall. It was a tough slog up there, through shattered screes near the top, to a summit which lays bare the whole, wild landscape of this area. The coire between it and Beinn Dearg must be one of the finest in Scotland, the ridge coming up from the south-east looks terrifyingly narrow with precipitous drops on both sides.

We returned to the lochans and headed across to the wall which runs up through rough, scrambly ground almost to the summit of Beinn Dearg. We both enjoyed a little use of our hands as we toiled our way up, then emerged onto the vast summit plateau of this big mountain.

By now, the weather was starting to change and rain showers could be seen all around. Cloud was lowering as well and we didn't hesitate in making our way off down the ridge, following the wall. It's rough going though, very little chance to run, and progress was slow initially. Eventually we dropped down to a flat section, where steep, heathery slopes to our right led us down to the main path through the valley. In increasingly heavy rain, we trotted down, enjoying the chance to stretch our legs but feeling slightly fatigued from a rough day out.

We got back to the car and dived for cover, sparing a thought for those still out there or still setting up tents at the midway camp. They were in for a rough night. The rain was very heavy as we drove back, to our beautiful house, a warm fire, homemade Thai curry...and chips! All washed down with a Glencoe stout, the perfect end to a perfect day!

Thieving, money-grabbing bastards with no conscience....

Did that get your attention? It ought to.

A couple of weeks ago, me and Kirsten cycled up the steep hill to the Heights of Dochcarty, dumped the bikes by the stream crossing, and toiled our way up to the bealach just to the east of the Cioch Mor.

The wind was howling through the gap, rain battered us. We headed over to the far side of the col to gaze down into a wild valley, with a sharp pull beyond which takes you onto one of the outlying ridges of Ben Wyvis, the iconic mountain around these parts.

It's a truly wild scene. No sign of human habitation. Pretty much pathless. An uninterrupted, glorious view into a natural world.

Fast forward to this morning, and a leaflet is dropped on our doorstep, inviting us to a "presentation" to be held about......the new "wind farm" that they want to erect. Guess where? In that remote and beautiful area we stared down at in awe. Their visual representations show so clearly that it these ugly monstrosities will dominate the view of Ben Wyvis from anywhere in the east. I'm presuming even from Inverness?

I won't even bother to go into the politics of wind factories and the fact that the technology is effectively disproved as unreliable and too costly. Look up what's happening in Denmark. Read what the Germans have said post-Fukushima (hint: no more nuclear, but definitely NOT turning to wind power).

Wind power is all about profits for multinationals and landowners and there is a whole industry growing up around it, full of people trying to make a fast buck by spoiling our landscape forever. Have they no conscience at all? Are they really that smug, sitting in their million pound pads in the middle of built-up cities? I suspect I know the answer.

And even as I write, it's dawned on me that, Inverness Airport being where it is, visitors upon landing will immediately gaze across at the mountain that dominates the skyline....and be confronted by a man-made scene which strips away the feeling of wilderness that they've probably come to the Highlands for.

When and where will it all end?

Up the Ben

Up here, "The Ben" is not Ben Nevis. Inverness has its very own "Ben", that dominates the skyline....Ben Wyvis. Just under 3,500ft high, but a high whaleback of a mountain, very important by reason of some of the flowers and mosses that grow on it's slopes and summit plateau.

And it rises up straight behind our house!

But, somehow, we'd not made it up there yet. Yesterday was my day off and, with the weather looking distinctly unpromising (ruling out a drive further afield to the Affric munros), but the legs itching to head up a big hill, I decided to head up the Ben from the main car park at Garbat.

As I arrived, the rain was pelting down and clouds scuttled across the sky at a swift speed. The top of the first summit, An Cabar, was well into the cloud, and I took a look at the map again to get a rough bearing to follow on the summit.

Coat donned, buff pulled up around my face, I headed out from the car along the pleasant path that makes its way through the woods. After about 10 minutes, I spied a couple of young deer on the opposite bank of the burn and, realising I was downwind of them, stealthily approached, being careful with my foot placement. Sure enough, I was a matter of 20ft away from them before they spotted me. Rather than scooting off into the nearby trees, they stood transfixed (as did I!) watching me. We stood for about 5 minutes, them waiting for my move, me taking in the beauty of the scene and these marvellous young animals. Only when I started to shiver in the driving rain, did I turn and make my way, as the deer scuttled down the bank and into the burn. Magical.

Pretty soon I was heading up the steep pull to An Cabar. Clouds swirled by, and the wind picked up in intensity, causing me to steady myself using my hands a couple of times. Finally, I sensed I was summiting this first shapely peak, and I could hear the wind whistling over the rocks above me. I popped up onto the top and was hit by the full force of the ferocious weather. The hood was pulled further down, gloves donned and buff pulled further up, before heading forward, attempting to make progress along the summit plateau against a howling gale which threatened to pick me up and deposit me over the Western slopes of the mountain.

The main summit was further than I expected, beyond an intermediary top. I tried to run as best I could, but progress itself was hard work! I finally saw the trig point and headed towards it. Not a day for stopping, I touched, looked around at the non-existent view, and headed straight back down! The wind at my back was seemingly even more insistent and, on one occasion, it almost took my legs from under me with a vicious gust!

It was a relief to drop back down under the summit of An Cabar and enjoy a leisurely run, coming down out of the swirling clouds to take in views down Loch Glascarnoch one way and past Loch Luichart further to the south. The irony was that the weather to the west looked brighter!

I dropped down to the car, having taken about 2.30 of walking/running time up and down. It would be a fair bit less on a decent day!! Soaking wet clothes were changed immediately, and I headed down to the Old Station cafe for a warming cup of coffee.

I think I shall enjoy exploring the Ben. It's more complex than you would imagine when viewing it from the West. I got glimpses along the valley to the east (to the south of which our house lies), and it looked wild, untrodden land.

But for now, I thoroughly enjoyed my trip out to my local hill!

Out of Affric

Yesterday was my "official" day off each week. No work planned, dog-walker booked in for lunchtime, so I had to go out and enjoy myself!

Only trouble was, the forecast was for 70mph winds on the tops and driving, heavy rain showers. So what to do? Well one of the joys of Scotland, more than anywhere else in the UK, is the ability to have a wonderful day out on lower paths, exploring hidden, remote and wild valleys.

Incredibly, I'd never been to Glen Affric. It's talked of in glowing terms, as being one of Scotland's real treasures. But it is off the beaten track a wee bit, requiring a trip west of Inverness down narrow single-track roads.

But I found a marvellous route around Loch Affric on www.walkhighlands.co.uk and decided that would make a perfect trip out. 11.25 miles, fairly low level but heading into the wilderness.

And indeed it was splendid. A beautiful valley, with native woodland being allowed to grow again (thanks to deer fences), vast precipitous slopes stretching up above to the high tops, cascading waterfalls crashing down towards the lochside and a runnable path.

The weather wasn't marvellous. Intermittent heavy rain coupled with near-constant light drizzle. But it was warm and so I hardly noticed, enjoying myself as I was. Plenty of stops to take in the magnificent scenery, especially near the far end of the loch. Ahead, dominating the scenery was the fine ridge of Mullach Froach Choire - startling to think that the other end of this ridge drops down to the Cluanie Inn, just a few miles away....wow!

At the end of the loch, in a marvellous remote location, lies Strawberry Cottage, a climbing hut belonging to the An Teallach Mountaineering Club....I think I'll be looking to book in there for a couple of nights sometime!

As I turned back towards the car, the wind was now behind me. Just as well, as the rain turned even heavier. But I was still going well and enjoying myself, and the coat hood was down (meaning I was getting a thorough soaking!). In no time at all, I was heading back down the hillside and towards the car park, finishing in just over 2 hours....quite speedy really!

Affric is somewhere I shall be returning constantly, I can sense it. There are some terrific munros to ascend, and plenty more to explore, with the Alltbeithe Youth Hostel only a couple of miles beyond the end of the loch. A quick look at the map indicates the potential for a splendid cross-country backpacking trip, starting over in Kintail and finishing, perhaps, at Cannich...one to plan.

Did I mention that living in Scotland is just fabulous?!!? :-)

It's been a long time...........

Time to resurrect this blog, record things that have been happening and all the wonderful times we're going to have.

So much has changed. Having committed to moving to Scotland by the end of April, we set out about applying for jobs. Whoever got the job would take it. As time dragged on, we zoomed up for a week in February to try and make things happen. Things were looking unlikely on Kirsten's side, so I spoke to various people on the west coast and it looked like we were going there. Kirsten would get seasonal work and we'd survive and be where we wanted to be.

And then, out of the blue, Kirsten got invited for two interviews in a week, one in Inverness, one in Kingussie. Both VERY good locations! She trotted off to the first one, and felt it had gone ok as she called me on the way out of Inverness. Within an hour she'd called me back to say they'd rung and offered her the job! Inverness it was then!!

So we set about finding somewhere to live, somewhere quiet and beautiful and yet commutable. We saw a lovely place in Strathfarrar, owned by the Lister-Kaye "estate" (look up his books, wonderful!) and then another wonderful place high above Loch Ness at Abriachan.

We had one final place to see, found in a two-line advert in the local paper and with very few details. As soon as we turned in the drive and drove up towards a real fairy-tale Scottish castle, we sensed we'd found something wonderful. We parked the car and walked with the Lord, Chief of the Clan, from his castle(!) a few hundred yards into the woods to a clearing, where the most beautiful stone cottage stood, bathed in the rays of sun filtering through the trees.

It was a bit more than we intended paying, but there was no way we were turning down an opportunity to live here. It's a once in a lifetime chance. We have seclusion, peace, tranquility. We really feel part of the woods. The birdsong is magnificent. The roe deer a bonus!

And out the back of the house, we have miles and miles of good off-road cycling plus plenty of good running. Ben Wyvis is just out the back, The Cat's Back is a a great little hill for running over the road. Perfect!

We both trotted off to the local doctors to register....and as part of our induction, we were weighed...yikes! We'd both put on a good half a stone, due to lack of running while we were trying to secure our move. Time to get back to it. And we naturally are. As well as cycling and running, there are plenty of physical jobs to be done around the house and garden. Chopping wood has become a regular habit!

We've now been here a month and we're really settling in. Time to head off to a few events. We went and watched Slioch Horseshoe and a rough, wild day...and I wished I'd been running. There's an uphill only race this Saturday we're going to. All up, to the top of a munro. We'll be having to make our own way down then? ;-)

Then there's as near as we'll get to an LDWA event next week over at Glenelg. Plus a local race at the end of June. All these places are now so near. It's incredible! Ullapool is an early evening drive away!

Plus lots of new places to explore. On Saturday we did a recce of the Fyrish race from Evanton. What a splendid place. Good running on forest tracks, then out onto the top of Cnoc Fyrish and the magnificent monument, viewed as you drive north on the A9. And on Sunday, we went walking out at Fortrose in wild, windy conditions. We headed down to Chanonry Point, one of the best places in the UK to view dolphins...and sure enough four came playfully swimming close to shore! WOW! As if that wasn't good enough, we then found a fantastic "proper" pub which I suspect we'll be popping to more regularly!!

All in all, life is pretty wonderful and, whilst it has to get back to something more "mundane", with work to get down to, the opportunity to take off from our door into wild, mountainous terrain after a day's work is just too good to be true.