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Jez In Inverie

A postcard arrived this week from Jez who's been visiting Inverie, at the edge of Knoydart.  I'm so jealous!  Inverie has been on my tick-list of remote places to visit for ages.  The Old Forge is Britain's

Mauling

"You seem to be going awfully fast," said the perspiring southern lady on the footpath to Stac Pollaidh, "would you pull me up?" I smiled politely, but in reality I was both shocked and pleased to have realised that over

No Such Deviations

I first wandered up the long track toward Beinn Dearg a year ago, when Daffy insisted we leave it at an early stage and clamber up through snow-covered heather onto a large rounded ridge which seemed to go on forever

Soggy Foothills

Sunday a handful of us bagged Ben Wyvis, where apparently Martin Moran was avalanched during his record breaking winter munro expedition. Our trip up to the top was thankfully less life-threatening, with the only dangers coming from the many snowball

Vast Solid Pillar

Boy, do I let myself in for some exhausting pastimes. I could have spent the day at home, slumped in front of the web, but nope, not today. Gulvain is a right royal pain. A "shy hill", according

BST

The changing clocks weren't gonna catch us out this time. We had everything figured out for once. At about 19:30 on the Saturday evening, the three of us adjusted our watches forward by sixty minutes. This way, we cut

Buachaille Etive Mor

Brucey's protective, cautionary side does not show itself often, but it's undoubtedly there. One of his female housemates once commented that "he really looks after us in the flat, he's like the Dad of the house!" and I