Mountain Odyssey: A Winter's Day on Ben Vane

Definition of a climber: "Someone who stands at the bottom of an easy hill and looks for the most difficult and dangerous way up"
Definition of a hillwalker: "Someone who stands at the bottom of a difficult and dangerous hill and looks for the easy way up"
Muriel Gray: The First Fifty- Munro Bagging Without a Beard.
For the purposes of today on Ben Vane, I was most definitely a hillwalker (with a wee bit of mountaineering thrown in for good measure near the summit).

For almost the entire Christmas holiday period I waited. And waited. And waited some more, for the right weather window to take to the hills. I believe the weather lately has been stuck in what is technically known as a rut: Atlantic low after Atlantic low has swept in from....well, the Atlantic, for about two months solid, putting paid to my recent resurgence of interest in hillwalking, and confining my bike to the garage to gather dust - bah humbug! No wonder they're known as depressions.

Today, however, the weather man reliably informed me of a lull between yesterday's and tomorrow's lows. Winds were forecast to be 25-30mph with many breaks in the cloud base before afternoon snow showers - time to dust down the ice axe and crampons and head for the Arrochar Alps.

Heading north towards Tarbet, Loch Lomond narrows and becomes enclosed by increasingly imposing mountains - the beginning of the Highlands. The Arrochar Alps, spread around the head of Loch Long and the west side of Ben Lomond, are a group of very steep and Rocky Mountains with real character.

At a mere 915 metres (3002 feet) and qualifying as a Munro (in fact, occupying the lowly position of 284th, the smallest of the 3000 foot hills known as Munros) Ben Vane is roughly translated as "Middle Hill", lying as it does between it's larger neighbours Ben Ime and Ben Vorlich.

However, as with most league tables, positions can be deceptive. After a 45 minute walk up the Tarmac road to Coire Grogain, a footpath leaves the road and heads up the unrelentingly steep and craggy shoulder of the mountain. Today a blanket of cloud shrouded the upper slopes and the start of the "footpath" to the cloudy sky and snow-covered upper slopes was a bit of a bog-fest. Decent gaiters are a must if wet feet and trousers are to be avoided on this section of the route and luckily I came prepared, with my trusty plastic mountaineering boots and full yeti gaiters.

Then the sun made a welcome appearance above A Chrois (The Cross), illuminating the hillside and giving hope of better things to come (The Cross - illuminating and giving hope!). It was to be short-lived however. At this point my phone rang - Her Indoors, anxious for news of how this stuffed Christmas turkey was progressing in its failed attempt to fly up a hill. I no sooner had reassured her that the sun was out and it was a lovely day, when looking up I discovered that the weather had rapidly closed in, with visibility right down to zero. Unfortunately, this was to be the case for almost the rest of the day, as I floundered through deep, soft snow, plotting a course for the summit.

It's at times like these I attempt to keep morale up by singing (Crown Him With Many Crowns, in this case). Just as well there was no one else around! Well, there was a wee guy and twa dugs that left me for dead on the lower slopes, but he was defeated higher up, having had a salutary encounter with steep snow and ice without so much as a toothpick for grip. Singing really lifts the spirits (and more likely raises the dead when I get started!) as silence and a sense of isolation sets in when all around is white - it really can get a bit spooky (did I mention a yeti already???).

There are a couple of false summits and gaps on the way to the top, where descending goes against the grain after busting a gut to gain so much height. These steep sided gaps were smoothed out by the thigh-deep snow and consequently became difficult to climb. There were, however areas of rock hard ice, which were easy meat once crampons had been donned and I was soon cresting the rise to the summit plateau. Phone out- summit snaps.

By this point my stomach was declaring that lunch should be taken, but preferring a more relaxing repast I retraced my steps downhill to a more suitable spot, whereupon I met four intrepid explorers and one loner heading for the top. After an exchange of New Year pleasantries and some mountain chit chat, I plonked myself down to a most welcome flask of steaming hot tea, cheese and ham rolls and a Mars bar.

Then the snow started, a wee bit earlier than forecast, by which time I was on safer ground and heading back down the road to a warm car and a particularly comfy pair of trainers. All in all a great day out on a fine wee hill. Ben Vane we will meet again!