Burnt Barnet on Beacon Hill

What a scorcher on Scotland's most southerly Munro! Great weather, good company (apart from hordes of the great unwashed!) and another step on the way to good hill fitness.

Today's weather forecast was for temperatures of 15 degrees, wall to wall sunshine and no wind to speak of, so my daughter Rachel and I made an early start, loaded up on the sun cream, ditched the waterproofs and headed for Rowardennan to tackle Ben Lomond (translated - Beacon Hill). Having climbed nearby Ben Ime (Butter Hill) and been nearly blown inside out only two weeks previously, we looked forward to improved weather conditions and felt reasonably fit and in good condition ourselves.

Heading up The Ptarmigan in fine sunny weather

However, we were taken somewhat by surprise at the weather on the day. It felt a lot warmer than forecast - so hot, in fact,  that even after liberal doses of sun cream I managed to burn my napper! Being in possession of slightly more hair than I, however, Rach had a tad more sun protection and escaped the rays almost unscathed. Note to self: apply sun cream before leaving house next time! Maybe even take a sun hat! Maybe even grow my hair long (impossible!)!

On my way from misery to happiness today - uhuh!

The other thing that caught us unawares was the sheer volume of traffic on this mountain, and with it being Good Friday it seemed that we weren't the only ones with designs on climbing the Beacon Hill. On our ascent of Ptarmigan Ridge we only met seven others going up (a fair few more descending via  Ptarmigan - crazy!!!), but perhaps as a result of it's proximity to the Central Belt, we jostled for a lunch spot at the summit and passed at least a hundred hot and bothered walkers on our way down the tourist route.

Ptarmigan ridge provides the best route of ascent up Ben Lomond. It runs, south to north, roughly parallel with the large whale-backed hump of Sron Aonaich ("Tourist Route"), before turning on a fine curving ridge to attain the summit via the north-western shoulder. Today, we met many a soul descending by this route, and probably wishing they'd done the circuit in reverse. Still, I suppose the first time I climbed this hill I blindly followed the Tourist Route, trudging expectantly up the four-lane highway to the top.

Go east!

The summit provided a great spot to tuck into our rolls and a stunning northward panorama over which to pick out a veritable multitude of Munros. Most of the hills visible had almost completely shed their wintry garb, apart from Ben Nevis, which still seemed to have a fair covering of the white stuff. By the time we'd filled our stomachs, quite a crowd had gathered at this serene spot to do likewise - once the obligatory photos had been taken at the trig point, of course!

Selfie at the top

The best thing that can be said about the descent route is that it's gentle on the knees. However, we couldn't help but wish we had our mountain bikes to hand, which would've eaten up the seven kilometres in no time and provided a refreshing breeze to boot. No such luck, however, and we plodded slowly downwards, dodging the crowds heading uphill and arrived back at the car five and half hours after we'd started, thankful for fresh clothes, Lucozade Sport and Toby Mac booming out the stereo on the journey home.

Burnt barnet!

Arty Selfie

Ben Ime

"I've never looked this bad and felt this good" said Rach, as we sat at the windswept summit of Ben Ime having battled our way through some pretty challenging weather, over hill and mucky bog, into the teeth of a 50mph westerly that was blowing in curtains of hail and snow, and after picking our way across a jagged boulder field. For her to be as effusive in her praise, in the face of all this, I was really chuffed. It felt like: mission accomplished. Carlsberg don't do mountain days with your daughter - but if they did.... As a parent, it doesn't get much better than this.

During the Easter school holidays, we decided to beat the boredom and head for the hills. I had taken a week off work and didn't want to be hanging around indoors. Rach was keen to get outside to try out her new boots and waterproofs, having recently signed up for the Duke of Edinburgh's Award. I was looking for a mountain that would have just enough variety and length to stimulate Rachel's interest in the great outdoors, but not too much as to put her off. 

Rach was looking for adventure and I was more than happy to assist her in her quest. I knew her capabilities, having witnessed at first hand how she coped with our wee jaunt over Rannoch Moor to Loch Chiarain bothy last October. Rach thought she knew her capabilities...but she hadn't bargained for the sort of weather we were to encounter today.

It all started from the car park at Succoth (familiar territory, having been here on The Cobbler just a few weeks previously, and on Ben Narnain before that), where once again I set out (with Rachel this time) on what, at first glance appeared to be a calm, sunny morning, to climb Ben Ime. I was anticipating exposing my newly bald napper to the big yellow orb, and wishing I'd had the foresight to bring some sun cream. Appearances can be deceptive, however, as once we gained the Narnain Boulders, the wind really picked up and we needed to wrap up well against the stinging, wind-borne hail showers. 

The Narnain boulders have always been a stopping-off point for me, as I guess they've been for many an out-of-puff wanderer over the years. Some of the early climbing pioneers bivvied out under these huge glacial erratics, before putting up many first ascents of climbing routes on The Cobbler, Tom Weir included. They're like giant waypoints on the track to Ben Narnain, The Cobbler and Ben Ime, providing welcome respite from the weather and a safe, sheltered spot to stop for lunch or a snack. Often, I've taken advantage of their shelter from the elements before setting off to ascend The Cobbler and it's lofty neighbours.

Ben Ime (1,011m, 3,316ft), meaning Butter Hill, is known as such because butter was once made at the high shieling pastures in the area. Other landmarks alluding to this can be found nearby at the Buttermilk Burn and Butter Bridge. The squelchy lower slopes and the boggy Bealach a' Mhaim (a saddle that separates Ben Narnain and Ben Ime) did their best to be as slippery as the aforementioned dairy product, the inevitable consequences of the recent thaw. Rach was glad of her gaiters and soon abandoned all hope of keeping her shiny new boots clean.

Anyway, before long we left the relative shelter of the leeward side of the saddle between The Cobbler and Narnain and ventured out onto the Bealach a' Mhaim, buffeted by the wind and hammered by the hail, remnants of a season that was stubbornly clinging to the last vestiges of winter. We then made our way, tentatively, onto Ben Ime proper. 

Higher up its grassy flank, some impressive crags on its northern side drop steeply into Coire Grogain. Needless to say, these rocky ramparts needed to be given a wide berth, particularly in today's strong wind, and we teetered around a couple of the larger snowfields near the corrie's edge, before striking out for the summit. Here, a circle of rocks sit on a raised plinth. In it's former days this would've provided a shelter of sorts. Nowadays, its a rather neglected-looking excuse for a refuge, and we hunkered down under it's flank to eat a swift lunch, glad of what little respite there was from the unrelenting, icy wind.

It wasn't long, however, before we were on the move again, our fingers too cold to hold our sarnies, and we resolved to have second lunch when safely ensconced again at the Narnain Boulders. Rach then tried her hand at sledging on an orange survival bag on the way down, but the best she could manage was a load of icy snow doon her breeks and some wounded pride. Needless to say, Yours Truly was a tad on the heavy side for the slushy snow and couldn't get our improvised sled to budge. Ah well, need to cut down on the biccies Stewarty boy!

Second lunch at the boulders was a treat - cheese and chicken roll, Maltesers and a Topic, chased down with some tepid tea. Rach devoured what was left of her roll and followed it up with some Minstrels. The most favouritist lunch spot in all the Arrochar Alps - Frodo Baggins eat yer heart out! The rest of the walk-out back to Succoth proved uneventful and the descent of this well-made path is documented in earlier blog posts.

All in all, a pretty tiring day for Rach (and for the auld guy too!), but a great introduction to hillwalking for her. I still remember visiting Tiso in Buchanan Street, as Rach did recently, to purchase my first set of waterproofs and boots, many moons ago. I also remember the first time I used them - on my first Munro, Ben Vorlich (Lochearnhead) with Jeebsy Higgins and chums - it was a real thrill! So, Congratulations today on your first Munro Rachel - hope I haven't put you off. Only 281 to go! I hope many of them are done in the company of your auld Paw.

The intrepid duo at the start of the day - bathed in sunshine

The Auld Guy

Rach strikes out - all happed up against the impending bad weather

At the Narnain Boulders

Reaching the snowline and a rare burst of sunshine

At the summit

Wipeout!

Wrapped up 

A Selfie at The Boulders