It was Ian Beattie’s stag do at Tyndrum this weekend, so I was among friends runners and we had to run to the pub for lunch on Saturday. About seven miles to the pub in Bridge of Orchy. Where we watched New Zealand beat Australia at World Cup Rugby and I fell asleep because that’s what I do when I’m not doing anything else. And then we ran back to the pub for dinner. About seven miles to the pub in Tyndrum, in the dark with too few headtorches between too many (disclaimer: at least mine was a shining light!). Where I fell asleep because that’s what I do when I’m not doing anything else, but most of the others seemed to get mixed up in some kind of karaoke with the zombies of Tyndrum (apparently normal on 31 October!). After which Keith (perhaps scunnered by his team’s loss) and Dod made renewed attempts to wake the (un)dead with some colourful noise at 2:00am and I had to play whistles in the hostel because Ian made me start and Scott wouldn’t let me stop…
So that was that and then it was Sunday (or, to be technically correct, still Sunday) and time for everyone to go their separate ways again. Which, for me, meant two Corbetts and a Graham Top on the way home, with a splendid, staggeringly appropriate display of carefree non-nav (note the ‘Oops!’ on the map) on a stunning November day when you could see for miles around…
Now the rules for non-nav are very simple. It’s not like bad nav (where you actually look at maps and stuff but still get it wrong), but quite simply following your nose without checking the map because you thought you’d registered it all from one quick look before you set out but hadn’t (all-time classic: Not Fyne but Shira!). Which is the only rational explanation I can offer for maintaining that rising traverse for so long with no sign of the expected bealach despite being fully aware of lower ground to the right I just hadn’t associated with what I thought I was looking for. At which point I did consider just skipping Beinn Bheag (which turns out to be a splendid viewpoint!) and pretending the agenda was just the more ‘hilly’ hills of Beinn Bhreac-liath and Beinn Udlaidh, but why let such a sensible solution spoil a good story? ;-)
The question mark on the map, by the way, marks a possible alternative route to Beinn Bheag up a big forestry track where I took a small (ATV?) track up and came down a big, open cleft with a burn.