After missing walking for a few weekends working with the build up to Christmas we headed up to Glen Dye early this morning and parked at Spittal Cottage in time to start walking in the early morning darkness with snow blowing through on the icy wind. Just under an hour brought us to Charr which is a very good MBA bothy with two rooms and in excellent condition. Another hour took us up onto the climb towards Mount Battock and we summitted exactly 3 hours after leaving the car. Weather on the top was -5C with a wind around 30 to 40 mph and it felt very COLD ! Being just after 11 am we headed back across the high ground aiming for Clachnaben. The trek across the tundra was easy enough although the track had filled in with snow in places and very icy conditions prevailed. About an hour and a half took us to the trig and tor of Clachnaben and some astounding views from this relatively low summit. The walk back down from Clachnaben was deadly with footpath repairs frozen leaving icy rocks and steps as a path and it was much easier and safer to take to the heather. A bit of a shame as the conservation was actually driving us off the path !
A brilliant day in spite of the wind and cold and it would be an absolute waste to do this Corbett without taking in the summit of Clachnaben.
A brilliant day in spite of the wind and cold and it would be an absolute waste to do this Corbett without taking in the summit of Clachnaben.
Oh well, I did Battock one evening on the way home from Aberdeen. Parked near the farm and headed straight up the hill to the summit. Hard work, but on top in less than an hour ... A hill for any amount of time available 8-)
Seasonal Greetings Pilgrim. Piles, mince pies and fisting...the wonderful ecstasy of agony...the curve of exquisite pain! A joy to experience. Who said the Decadent Movement was over.....with its erotic sensibility....call it what you like, "romanticism", "realism",
human behaviour.... the rip of flesh...the trickle of blood.....the screams of passion...the tempestuous loveliness of terror...the heavenly smells of a woman....as you thrust your head between her thighs and your toung between those warm full moist lips....caresing their velvety sides, gently......oh so gently.....liquid poetry.
