Buachaille Etive Beag

www.microlodge.net

So...T'was Saturday afternoon, and the weather forecast said "Go West" young man. The outlook is sunny.

Now, followers of my blog know of my undying, yet sadly misplaced trust in the met forecast.  The next day was to be no exception.

Therefore, the rucksack was duly packed and I headed off to Lochearnhead, with only a slight detour on the way, stopping at ASDA to purchase a flask that was smaller than the welders gas cylinder that normally accompanies me up the hill.    I also had a new bit of gear to try out.  I had been to LIDLs and bought a 2 piece trouser and top creation for wearing below ones ski suit.  I can now testify that this bit of kit works really well and keeps you nice and toasty.  The only downside is that it comes in black with blue deco on it.   Had it been black and red, it would pass admirably for a 'Spiderman' costume and saved me a good deal of cash come fancy dress parties.

Then, Saturday evening, it seems the highlight of the week was to be a disco in the village hall.  Now, having watched "Little Britain" on tv, I had a fair idea of the sort of evening this would turn out to be, so feigning extreme exhaustion, I decided to pass on the winter social event of 2011.

Sunday morning, with Digger the dog in tow, I set off for Glencoe, so sure of the weather that I never took heavy waterproofs, despite the early mornings lashing rain and knowing that the nice girl on BBC would not cheat on me yet again. (would she)...

So, after a quick coffee stop at Glencoe Mountain Ski Resort for coffee, and checking on the progress being made in digging out the banking to site their Microlodges, we arrived at the parking area.  OH JOY...

The 1st view of Stob Coire Raineach

It's funny how the dog seemed delighted just to be out on the hills again, regardless of the lack of visibility, so off we set in the clag, map in hand as it seemed as if it was going to be another of those typical Scottish days.

Then at around the 1,500 feet region...bliss.

Like the parting of the seas...

We quickly made the bealach, and decided to go for the summit of Stob Dubh, the higher of the 2 tops.  Luckily as the weather had cleared, we never made the mistake of assuming the 1st cairn we arrived at was the intended Munro, as the real summit is in fact another 20 minutes haul further along. (and a good climb higher).  

Looking behind us, a braw sight. The Aonach ridge (also known as the 'brown trouser ridge' was in fine sight.

The Ridge

After a quick snack at the top, we descended back to the bealach and set off to the summit of Stob Coire Raineach.  There, I suffered a doubly whammy of unhappiness.  The first was that the top itself was rather uninspiring...and even worse, I opened my tupperware box and my eggy rolls lived up to their name, and promptly rolled off down the hillside, rapidly followed by a big black lump of Labrador.  Him having 4 wheel drive, reached the lunch well before I did...

Is it just me, or is that bu**er grinning??

So, hungry and deflated, it was time to head back down, stopping only for a wee while to watch the SAR chopper across on the 'brown trouser' ridge, either carrying out a rescue or dropping off a family-size pack of Andrex.

We then stopped of at Tyndrum to have a chat with a site owner there before heading back to Lochearnhead and a cuppa with fresh scones. Digger got neither of these.

As it was now dark, I decided to head back down to Fife, and the pub, leaving Cathy to weed her garden.  Yep, you read this right.  She was going to pull weeds whilst wearing her head torch. (and I thought I was stupid).

It's now Monday night and all the varnishing has been completed on the 2 Microlodges in the shop, so just the doors and roof shingles to do, then they will be heading out to the mountains.

Creag Mac Raineach

www.microlodge.net

What a glorious Sunday it was.  The start of the day was a tad hectic as I was running late to catch the coach due to the car being iced up, but eventually made it just in time.

On the basis of the icy weather, I was so well prepared with my kit consisting of battery heated gloves, hand warming gel pads, extra thick socks, 2 woolly hats, a double thick fleeced jacket and copious helpings of piping hot tomato soup.

The reality was, that by 10.30, it was t-shirt weather so a great deal of energy was expended humping severe weather gear and a flask the weight of a welders gas bottle up the mountain.

I managed to arrange for my part-time companion, Digger the dog, to be picked up at Lochearnhead to accompany me for the day. Kathy herself couldn't manage as she's wangled a job that consists of her driving around in Ferraris, Lambos, Porches etc....and gets paid for it.  Luxury.   Still, she missed out on a wonderful day.

We had a group of 30 set off together, but 6 of us picked up the pace a tad and gained a considerable lead and got to the foot of the hill in record time. Then the decision was made that rather than head onto the bealach, we would go a more vertical route to the summit.

Very blue sky and stripping off the extra layers of clothing.

On hindsight, we should possibly have stuck to the intended route as the rocks that had not been exposed to sunlight were a slippery as eels, but we managed just fine as it happens with only a few 'oops moments', and gained the summit so early, we had an extended lunch at the cairn.

Looking behind us to Ben Vorlich and Stuc a'Croin

Digger awaiting more sandwiches from the others. (he'd finished mine by this time).

The views were stunning with the best visibilty I've encountered so far this year, and it felt as if you could reach out and touch the Lawers range and the Tarmachan ridge.  Then it was downhill on the shaded side to head for the coach pick-up point at Glenogle cottages, and this was a bit scary with the ice, although Digger delighted himself by breaking through sheets of it to dive into bracken filled puddles.

Then off for High Tea in Comrie and home.  A damn good day.

Meanwhile, it's now Monday and the next pair of Microlodges are coming on well and we had another press photographer in today, so with luck, some proper pics for the site later this week.

On a Slippery Slope

www.microlodge.net

Well, it's the start of a new week and microlodges 3 & 4 for Glencoe Mountain are well under construction.

As it was Halloween, we decided to come to work dressed up, so Gary pretended to be a joiner.
I of course came in as Brad Pitt...

After the traumas of my potential lawsuit from the Movie Moguls, I decided to treat myself this weekend.
Now, I'm of an age when going downhill fast and getting new footwear should mean wondering about pensions and pondering the best type of slippers, but I've gone to the other extreme and got myself skis and will hopefully not be going downhill too fast.

Of course, as I see myself looking,  and....

The reality...

Personally, I reckon it should be a doddle.  I've had the You-tube videos on the go, strapped on the skis, and practiced rocketting downhill from the comfort of the living room.  Mayhaps I should invest in a Wii ski game. (do they do one?)

On the minus side, that big springy thingy at the back of the foot grippy gizmo can fairly nip the fingers if you're not careful.   I even bought special 'ski socks'. Never even knew there was such a thing.  One must keep up with the lastest 'on-piste' fashions you know.   On that same theme, Gary refused to let me take the yellow tinted safety specs from the workshop, with a cutting "you look a plonker" remark. I think he's jealous as he's younger than me and has a bad back.

Now that I'm in the elite, I feel qualified to be able to pass on 'in jokes', so..

What's the difference between a ski instructor and a pizza?

A pizza can feed a family of four.

Glencoe Mountain

www.microlodge.co.uk

Well, it's a cold and wet morning here in the Kingdom of Fife, so looks like the workshop wood burner will be going full blast.

It's certainly been an entertaining week for us.

It was a few long shifts getting the first of 10 microlodges ready for transportation up the Glencoe Mountain ski resort, of which we have had to keep fairly quiet about until the written planning approval came through, but now we can shout GLENCOE MOUNTAIN.  There is also provision for further units upon performance figures for the winter season.

You can visit by clicking here,  http://www.glencoemountain.com/

This location is perfect for all year round activity, nestled right next to the wonderful Buachaille Etive Mor. It's also slap bang on the West Highland Way, and boasts the downhill mountain bike track, archery and of course...skiing.   There is a large cafe/bar on site, plus another atop the mountain accessed by the skilift, or by walking if you're a nutter like me.

Loading up.

Then we received a solicitors letter on behalf of the Squillionairres of the film industry, namely Saul Zaentz Company, in the good 'ole US of A,  informing us we would face legal action if we dare use the word H0881t in connection with our microlodges.

To be honest, I'm fairly sure that when JRR was writing his H00881t books for his son, he would have been delighted to be sitting in a microlodge on a lovely summer evening, but hey, how are 2 'wee guys' from Fife going to manage to take on the heavyweight might of Hollywood?

New Names

www.microlodge.net

As of today, due to pressure from solicitors representing Saul Zaentz Company, we are no longer allowed to use the word Hobbit....

The website has also been changed to bow to their threats.

P.S.   Renamed my cat to Gandalf...

Another Hobbit house...oops...Microlodge heading North

Daily Record and Noahs Ark

www.microlodge.net

Well, well.

I see we are all over page 18 of todays Daily Record.

http://www.dailyrecord.co.uk/news/editors-choice/2011/09/26/canny-scots-snapping-up-holidays-with-the-latest-craze-glamping-86908-23448439/

The thing that has taken us by total surprise, is the performance figures shown.  We always knew that the Hobbit houses were popular, but figures mentioned by Noahs Ark Caravan Park, were quoted as having 99.2% occupancy.  Breathtaking indeed.

Noahs Ark in Perth

Meanwhile, in the real world, we are bashing on in the workshop with the latest of our next order of 10 Hobbit houses and are hoping to have 6 of them out on site by Xmas, all ready for the skiing season.

Microlodge gearing up for winter builds

www.microlodge.co.uk

Well, the weather is now most certainly on the turn, so it's time to get the workshop wood burner sorted out for the colder weather. As per last winter, the cutting room, (mine), is going to be nice and toasty, whilst the assembly room, (Garys), will be like an Arctic acclimatisation module.

Had a tiff with the cat this morning, and it brought to mind the classic Rabbie Burns line of:- "Oh the gift that God wid gie us, to see ourselves as others see us.

Cat, (as I see him)

As I see myself...

As Cat sees me...

Ah well, better get back to work and make a living so I can keep the hairy ginger one in the life of luxury that he has become accustomed to.

Dragons Den pods

www.microlodge.co.uk

Well well, I see pods have been on Dragons Den and Theo has invested.  Do we have serious competition?
Well, I think not.
The reason being, is when we were asked to go on Dragons Den 2 years ago, we reckoned that to hand over 30% of our company, we would realistically need to charge 30% more for a unit, and turned down their offer to appear.

Why?  Well, for a start, we enjoy being in our own workshop and not mass producing in some faceless factory somewhere, so it seemed a tad silly to put ourselves under that sort of pressure where doing something we love would turn into a chore.

As we only build 2 to 3 units per month, we found we could maintain strict quality control.

Big business or satisfying occupation?  We made our choices and are more than happy with them.

How it all started...Sheds in a shed.

www.microlodge.net

I had a conversation today, running along the lines of sheds and how we got started at Microlodge, so here's a brief summery of our history.

I had just returned from a year in Sri Lanka where I ended up, a week after the Tsunami, doing relief work in a village (or what was left of it), called Tellwatta, and came home to Scotland as the thought of  returning to live in Spain had lost it's appeal.

By chance, I met up with Gary, who was to become my business partner, when we got talking about picnic tables for his pub of all things.  I reckoned we could come up with some really quirky designs.

So, we built round ones...

Octagonal ones...

ermmm..these ones

and ones that looked like benches...but...

with a pull and a twist...

turned into this.

Soon, other things started to appear in the form of wishing wells and planters etc

A lot our our work consisted of pieces for caravan sites, so when one of them mentioned they were thinking of investing in camping pods, we took it upon ourselves to try to design something quirky, fun to build, yet practical. Therefore, 2 things needed to be done.  First, build a prototype and secondly, how do you build a shed in a shed so to speak.

The first part was done after weeks of sleepless nights doing designs 'in the head' and then model building began.

First a skeleton..

Then the outer skin..

Bunks...

...and a camera case rucksack.

Then the second part to turn this small shed into..

this...

and finally..

...cue drum roll.....Now that's what I call a shed!!!

So, we started on the first full sized prototype, but as we neared build completion, we sussed there was a slight problem...we couldn't get the Hobbit out of the doors, so a bit of demolition was required.

original..with straight sides (note lack of roof space above)

Since those days, we have of course had to move to a larger, and proper workshop, but we still retain the same hands on principals with only 2 of us doing the build start to finish and accompany every unit on delivery. We have also stuck to our guns and only produce a Hobbit every 3 weeks or so rather than trying to just 'churn them out'.

Now, it's more like this,

We still only clear the workshop doors by 2" though

Ben Narnain & The Cobbler

www.microlodge.net

They always say, if you're going to stop smoking, tell everyone as it makes it more difficult to back out of the challenge.

Therefore, using the same philosophy, this Sunday coming, I hope to at last 'thread the needle' of Ben Arthur, or better known as The Cobbler, combined with climbing Ben Narnain.

This is of course weather dependent, and as readers of my blog know, I'm a big girls blouse when it comes to climbing anything higher than Bonos opinion of himself.

I have also come across a weird anomaly.  My super-duper Silva Ranger compass has reversed its polarity and I have no idea why this could happen.  Any suggestions?

It's no big deal as I just need to remember that the big red bit wot says North is in fact South and carry on as normal.

At work, we are designing bike and ski storage units to sit alongside the Hobbit Houses, so having fun.

Then, the weekend after next, with luck I'll be heading back to Kinlochleven Hobbits and, with someone who knows what they're doing, will attempt to tackle the Aonach Ridge.

At this point...there is no going back...

I sometimes think my time could be wasted more productively by learning to Photoshop, stay at home with a beer in my hand... and pasting myself into exotic locations.

The Danger of Currys

www.microldge.co.uk

CURRYS

Boy...and I thought I was in for a tough time.
My laptop hard drive had fried after just 6 months, so I duly took it back to Currys.

There was 2 of us in the queue at customer services, and although I reckoned I was the most aggrieved, I let the customer beside me 'go first' as he was one of the few there older than I.

His tale was a joy to behold.    It went something like this...

Customer:- " Hello, I've come to collect my TV" and produces the receipt.
Customer relations (after 5 minutes search) "Sorry Sir, not one of ours"
Me, "Well, he does have a chitty wot says Currys on it"
Customer relation, " Oh, so it does, I'll check again"
Customer " Wanker"
Customer relations "Ah, it was in for repair...it was goosed and replaced"
Customer "Lovely"
Customer relations, "Yes, you collected the replacement last week"
Customer, "Ermm, I think I saw a large vacant space in my living room this morning"
Me "Gasp...guffaw"

Then...believe it or not...customer replies, "I'll go home and check" and proceeds to walk out of the store.

Ben Lui and a Chicken Faux Pas

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So, after the successful delivery of the High Seas Hobbit, and with a bank holiday Monday calling. it was decided that a walk up Ben Lui and Beinn a'Chleibh was in order. Once again, as I am wont to do, I consulted the ever-so-accurate weather forecast, which after the weekends mini hurricanes promised settled weather in the west and wonderful views at Munro height.

The start of the day was initiated by a severe scolding from Cathy, as at approx 6.45am, whilst taking a stroll around her garden, coffee in hand, I thought I would contribute to the early morning chores by letting out the chickens from their 'fox-free' coop..    Okay, so I forgot about the rooster...oh...and the neighbours in the village, thus ensuing that I was as welcome as a boy racer with a stereo blasting outside a Womans Institute meeting.

Then it was to the freezer to fill tubs with maggots, to be left in an honesty box outside the Post Office for any fishermen that day. Great excitement to be had there, as the maggot selection available now includes a lurid green variety.

Thus chores done and rucksacks packed, off we headed with the first of the days disagreements starting within 5 minutes, as Cathys amazing sense of direction, which puts a top of the range gps to shame, informed me we were driving in the wrong direction.  After pointing out that she was reading the map upside down, and the resultant huff that followed, I realised I should have let her drive us South to Perth and I could have benefitted from a smug grin on my face.

So....heading in the correct direction, we stopped off at the Green Wellie in Tyndrum and a walk around the shop, where she got annoyed that the prices of their biscuits and jams were double what she sold them for in her Post Office.
From there, it was only a short drive to our start-off point, and the weather did indeed seem to be clearing.

Straight away, we had an equipment failure in the form of Cathys rather expensive walking pole that had seized closed tighter than a pretty boys bum on his first night in Saughton prison, but luckily, my much scorned Lidls specials were up to the job, and we managed to negotiate the stepping stones across the river and start the walk proper.

Within an hour though, tempers were flaring again, as I was on 'point duty', when we encountered the peat bogs.
Amusing as it was to her, the sight of me buried to the thighs in treacly black mud, I could see little excuse for hilarity. Running through my mind, was the thought that in 500 years time, some archaeologist would discover my mummified body with one hand stretched out high, safeguarding my very expensive gps navigation unit to the bitter end.   Learning from my mistake, Cathy of course diverted to a route through some pine trees, and got very little sympathy from me when she complained about a few needles getting down the neck of her fleece.

Emerging from the forest...and bogs...we got our first sight of the 2 mountains, and decided to head for the bealach.
Another tiff....Okay, so I was too busy looking at the gps for the turn off we had to take, and admittedly missed the cairn with the dayglo ribbon on it....

It now transpires that Cathy informs me that she needs vitamin B injections every so often, as neglecting this makes her tired and grumpy...both symptoms which were in tsunami-like full flow, and she had missed the last jab a week ago.  Right...so now I'm stuck halfway up a mountain with a chemically unbalanced companion.  It seems like it may be a long...long day.

Things improved though.  We made good time to the bealach, then struck out for Ben Lui, reaching the summit in under half an hour. There are no pics of this feat, as yet again, in came the cloud and visibility was reduced to zero.  So, back down to the bealach, then off to capture the 2nd Munro, which was free of cloud at the summit.   From this one, the views were fantastic, cuing tiff no.7...or is it 8 by now.  We had a 'discussion' about what other mountains we could name from our elevated perspective, and disagreed on every one except for Ben Nevis, which we likely both got wrong anyway.  She also was of the viewpoint that Ben Lomond, in her opinion had gravitated to the East coast of Scotland rather than the West and was not to be budged on that...

So, eggy sarnies finished, we headed back down and had a lovely walkout, which was helped by knowing how to avoid the peat bogs this time.
Back at the car, I was told in no uncertain terms that due to the muddied state I was in, it was a case of strip to the boxers or walk the 20 miles back to Lochearnhead.     Why was the dog, who was just as muddy as I was, and was ponging due to rolling in sheep poo, not given the same ultimatum??

Never mind, we all kissed and made up, ticked off 2 more Munros.  That's Cathy done 96 now, so looking forward to her big 100...

Dog Rescue

www.microlodge.net

This is not a tale of a dog rescue in the Mountain Rescue sense, but rather a frantic search for Simba, my 'foster dog'.

I must admit, I was negligent to a degree, but the blame must lie firmly at the feet of the author, David Nicholls, who had me wrapped around his little finger with his book, One Day.

I think at the point of the dog disappearance, I was totally engrossed in the story, whilst someone in the house must have been peeling onions as my eyes were leaking a wee bit...

Well, that's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it.

Anyway, after a frantic search of the house and garden, I had to assume the rascal had crawled under the fence, (he's not able to jump it), and soon came across a lovely little old lady with the offending article tucked under her arm going around knocking on doors looking for negligent pet owners.  I then had to go through the process of giving him claps and calling him a 'cheeky wee monkey', when what I really wanted to do was  to boot his butt all the way home. Not that I would when he gives that endearing look of his...

Simba is now locked in the kitchen tighter than Terry Waite on a bad day, although not quite chained to the radiator....yet.  

I'm not sure if that is quite the definition of cruelty to animals, but it may have been worse. I could have went to the pub and left him a Jedward record set on repeat play...

I've been out shopping today for reverse technology.   To explain.  I need new drawings of all the Hobbit range for planning purposes, and after hours of frustration trying Powerpoint and various cad programmes, I hit upon the perfect solution by going analogue rather than digital and am now the proud owner of a schoolboys plastic drawing box, with rulers, angle thingies and an eraser (rather than pressing ctrl z).

As an added bonus, whenever I make a gross error, I can amuse myself by playing 'waste paper basketball' or fashioning paper planes with the failed results.   Can't do that with a laptop Eh!!

Rosehearty delivered.

www.microlodge.net

Well, what part of setting the alarm clock for 5am did I get wrong?

Suffice to say, that when I heard the 'alarm', it turned out to be Gary sitting outside in the car phoning me and wondering why I wasn't ready.  90 seconds...a world record to get out of bed, brush teeth and on the road.  I guess the only way it could be done quicker would be with an irate husband chasing me with a shotgun.

No matter, off we headed Northwards to Rosehearty and caught up with the Hobbit truck just at the village, so all was ok.  The lift off the truck went splendidly and the base supplied was spot on level, so we were all happy bunnys.

Smiley Faces....

Our new Health and Safety poster shot...

Artistic thistle photo

Kinlochleven Again...

www.microlodge.net

There were squadrons of midgies about this weekend, so many hours were spent windmilling the arms like a possessed aircraft handler, vainly trying to ward off the 'bite-sized' flying protein.  Sod fashion, I'm going to get me one of those beekeeper hat/net things.

Simba, the dog was not amused with his first foray into the wilds and will not be repeating the camping experience any time soon methinks.

At Glencoe Mountain (looking cool)

The gig at the Ice Factor was touch and go for a while as the laptop decided to melt, but luckily, I had a backup drive, so with a borrowed laptop, we got the music underway and a grand time was had by all.  A particular bonus was that there were 3 other guitarist in the place, so we all took turns at strumming and singing...but of course, I was the only one to get paid.

It's now Monday night, and we have just finished fitting the 'deco' rings to the Highseas Hobbit, and got the bunks completed.  Tomorrow it's doors and window, then off up North for delivery on Thursday.

Oh, a post from an old oilfield chum of mine, but still worth passing on.

"In the line at the supermarket, the cashier told an older woman that she should bring her own grocery bags because plastic bags weren’t good for the environment.

The woman apologized to him and explained, “We didn’t have the green thing back in my day.” The cashier responded, “That’s our problem today. Your generation did not care enough to save our environment.” He was right — our generation didn’t have The Green Thing in its day.

Back then, we returned milk bottles, soft drink bottles and beer bottles to the store. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed and sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over and over. So they really were recycled. But we didn’t have the green thing back in our day.

We walked up stairs, because we didn’t have an escalator in every store and office building. We walked to the grocery store and didn’t climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks. But she was right. We didn’t have the green thing in our day.

Back then, we washed the baby’s nappies because we didn’t have the throw-away kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy gobbling machine burning up 240 volts — wind and solar power really did dry the clothes. Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing. But that old lady is right; we didn’t have the green thing back in our day.

Back then, we had one TV, or radio, in the house — not a TV in every room. And the TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief (remember them?), not a screen the size of the state of Western Australia. In the kitchen, we blended and stirred by hand because we didn’t have electric machines to do everything for us. When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used a wadded up old newspaper to cushion it, not Styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap.

Back then, we didn’t fire up an engine and burn gasoline just to cut the lawn. We used a push mower that ran on human power. We exercised by working so we didn’t need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that operate on electricity. But she’s right; we didn’t have the green thing back then.

We drank from a fountain when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water. We refilled fountain pens with ink instead of buying a new pen, and we replaced the razor blades in a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull. But we didn’t have the green thing back then.

Back then, people took the tram or a bus and kids rode their bikes to school or walked instead of turning their mothers into a 24-hour taxi service. We had one power point in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And we didn’t need a computerized gadget to receive a signal beamed from satellites 2,000 miles out in space in order to find the nearest pizza joint. But isn’t it sad the current generation laments how wasteful we old folks were just because we didn’t have the green thing back then?

Please forward this on to another selfish old person who needs a lesson in conservation from a smartass young person. Remember: Don’t make old people mad.

We don’t like being old in the first place, so it doesn’t take much to piss us off." 

Glencoe, the Lost Valley & Stob Coire Sgreamhach

www.microlodge.co.uk

I'm going to forgive the weathergirl for a change as she got it reasonably correct on Saturday.

What a nice change it was to go for a climb and actually see the surrounding views.

The targets for the day, were a 'walk-in' to the Lost Valley in Glencoe, followed by the climb to the bealach between  Stob Coire Sgreamhach & Bidean nam Bian.


As is usual, very little went to plan.


The initial hour went swimmingly well with the whole group in an organised chain heading up the approach.

Doing the Conga

Then it took an interesting turn as the group split, with my 5 taking the valley route towards the Lost Valley whilst the rest opted for the scree slopes which resulted in them doing an about turn and retracing their steps before finding the path again, which left our 5 having a good 45 minutes to ourselves awaiting the catch-up.

We were on our first casualty by this time as one of my group had taken a tumble on the approach, dropping 15ft from a rock on the scramble approach.

Entering the valley

5...soon to become 4

One nice thing we came across was the tame chaffinches who were more than happy to share lunch.

Tame Chaffie

Atop the 'wee hoose' in the valley

After the feeding session, it was onwards and upwards, heading for the bealach. The views from behind were getting better and better as we gained height with Nevis starting to poke its head out from the distant mountains.  After an hour of a nice easy path, we started passing the waterfalls which looked tempting for a mid-walk shower.

Looks tempting for a shower....

Then the slog starts up the zig-zag path, and disaster strikes for me and my left calf muscle takes a hammering, leaving me half crippled and having to start dropping back further and further from the group. Still, I made the bealach and rejoined the others, so we abandoned the rucksacks there and headed off to summit  of Stob Coire Sgreamhach.

Trying to smile through the pain..

The girls are smiling for real..

So, after a brief 2 minutes at the summit, we headed back down to the rucksacks, where I opted to be the bag watcher, whilst the rest headed off to tackle Bidean.  At least I had a nice easy rest and a chance to take in the amazing scenery.

looking down into the valley.

Then it was time for the walkout, and halfway down, the storm clouds gathered, and soon we were in a deluge, but at least on the way back to the bus.

So, today is recovery Sunday and I reckon my walking is goosed for 4 weeks until the muscle tear heals.  Looks like no excuses for not working weekends now.  As for Bidean.....well, it's been there for a long time and will be there again when I decide I'm recovered enough to go finish this route.