A bath with a view (and what a view!)

A bit out of left field this one, but this was a photograph that we thought was worth sharing, in a location that many of our readers have probably visited.

I must have been to the summit of Ben Nevis 50 times. I haven't counted them, but it's a reasonable guestimate. I've run the Ben Nevis Race 10 times now; my 11th is only a month or so away. And for each year I tend to average 3 training runs to the summit in advance of the race itself. So that's 4 a year for 10 years. Add to that the numerous other ascents including traverses in from the Carn Mor Dearg arrete and several winter routes back in the days when I did such things and it must add at least 10 more.

No wonder then that it's all very familiar up there. Even in a thick mist it's usually quite easy to tell where you are by the easily recognisable rocks and features. And this year I've found myself remarking on how the rocks on the path and the scree on the Red Burn have moved since last year, as each one is so familiar.

So what a breath of fresh air to discover something new on the very summit.

I'd met a couple of pals on the summit, as you do at 8.30pm on a Tuesday evening. They'd come up from the CMD and we quite literally arrived at the summit cairn at exactly the same time. It was all fairly quiet, very warm and perfectly still, so we sat and chatted a while. Another group arrived from the CMD with much drama about being dehydrated and I made the rather glib comment that they should visit the spring that lies close to the ruins of the observatory. Unsurprisingly, this led to disbelief that such a thing existed, and as I'd never seen it myself we went looking.

And there it is. There's a very evident path in the summit stones leading off towards the Steall side the mountain, zig-zagging down past the spring, and ending at the old holding tank. If it had been full of water, I would have been sat in it, enjoying the view, and preferably with a cold beer and some bubble bath.

It's not really surprising that a permanent building on the summit of the mountain would require some sort of nearby regular water supply. What is surprising is that the timber tank is still just sat there, 100 years on, exposed to the elements and the finest weather the Scottish climate can throw at it.

And what a night it was too! What a pleasure to be up there.

10 Ben Races (and feeling it)

Why, oh why, oh why do I keep on doing these stupid things?

Above all else, this was the question I couldn't get out of my head on Saturday afternoon, having just finished my 10th Ben Nevis Race. That was, of course, once I'd drunk more water than you'll find in the river Coe right now, and I could just about think straight again.

 Half way down and beginning to run out of fuel

Each year brings its own challenges. And I should know; it's now 22 years since I ran my first Ben Race. Last year for example, went fairly well. Or at least as well as two and a half hours of physical torture can go. And when it goes quite well, thoughts soon turn to next year's race. But this year, by contrast, was a bit of a living hell. And thoughts turn to why, and can I possibly keep on coming back year after year. Only another 11 years and 11 races and I could get a little plaque; the coveted Connochie Plaque awarded to runners who've completed 21 Ben Races (you'd maybe be surprised just how many of these there are!)

But good or bad, the Ben Race is rather special. It does kind of get under your skin. So, regardless of a slightly harder time if it this year, doubtless the memories will fade with the passing of time and come January the application form for number 11 will be in the post.

And let's try and keep things in perspective. I was only 10 minutes or so down on a time that would have been quite satisfactory. And what's 10 minutes when you're talking about up and down the Ben (and a mile each way on the tarmac to start and finish with). 

Conditions weren't ideal for me either. The big difference between this year and last was that last year the mountain was in monsoon conditions (close to being a cancellation) whereas this year it was more like the inside of an oven (ok, moderately pleasant temperatures for a Highland summer). Cool or cold = quite good. Warm or even moderately hot = overheated disaster.

 Entering Claggan Park - just 400m to go

And, of course, I must enjoy it.  Er.., well, it's hard to put the pain of 3.30pm on Saturday afternoon into the 'enjoying it' category. Knowing that you've got to keep on going despite there being absolutely nothing left in the tank. Knowing that all you have to do to stop the misery is stop. But also knowing that stopping as easy as it is impossible. But after a little reflection, it dawned on me that I've actually run the Ben 5 times this summer, getting on for 14 hours spent haulin' ass up and down that track. (And a very hungover Half Ben Race too). And I just wouldn't do that unless there was something in it for me.

 But all is not well.... Pain is only weakness leaving the body

So, chances are that next year I'll be back again for another physical beating. And for the challenge of it. And for the craic. Because there is no sense in it. It just gets under your skin.

Here's hoping that the Adventure Show TV cameras had all packed up and gone home by the time I returned to the park!

9 down, 12 to go

It had to happen really. Although we've had a few cloudy and even slightly damp Ben Nevis Races in the last 10 years, none of them have been particularly bad. Time then for a truly foul one perhaps? (Though it has to be said that my first run in 1988 was pretty horrendous!)

A quarter of a century of stupidity!?
Glasgow Marathon 1985. It rained all day then, too!

As ever, its the getting going that takes the greatest effort. But once you're wet, your wet and from that point on its easy. With the rain unrelenting, and the wind building, the park at Claggan was a quagmire from the outset. Marching out behind the pipe band brought a bit of a snigger, Not too clever walking through ankle deep puddly mud in a pair of brogues whilst playing a drum. Good on 'em!

News at the start line was of 30 mph winds on the summit, visibility down to 50 feet and a wind chill of -3 degrees. And 475 foolish runners all lined up ready to go and get first hand experience of it.

And so round the park, out of the gate and up the tarmac towards Achtintee, then the start of the climb up the summit of Britain's highest. All felt good and the decision not to wear a jacket for fear of overheating lower down was the right one. At Windy Corner, the true nature of the weather began to show. Water was streaming down everywhere. The burns were full. The wind began to feel a bit cold. But as my problem tends to be overheating and dehydration, this suited me just fine, and the rest of the climb felt good. Crossing the summit plateau was entertaining. Just like running into a hosepipe in a wind tunnel.

Wee Willie was in position at the top of Gardyloo Gully and I duly handed over my little gift of a whisky miniature. Seems I wasn't the only one marking 40 years of Gardyloo service and Willie received a fair collection of whisky.

At the turn all was still going well. With 1 hr 40 minutes gone I felt my target of under 2.5hrs was still possible. And the run down felt good too. The water flowing down the slopes by the Red Burn make the hard pack surface softer and easier to move on. I'd been concerned that the grassy bank might get the better of me with steep slippy slopes and tired legs. With other runners sliding down the grass on either side of me, I found a line straight down the flowing water and this proved to be a grippy if rather messy means of getting the best descent.

Then the home stretch. Tired legs started to make themselves known. Hitting the tarmac again at Achintee is never funny and this year was no exception. Purgatory! Just how slow can a run get before its officially classed a walk?!

All in all, despite some of the most filthy mountain weather September can muster, this year went well. And the only disappointment was my time. Still can't work out where the minutes went, but at 2hr 33 mins Iwas 5 minutes slower than I thought I was on for and than I would have preferred. But hey, there's always next year!

Sorry, no photos. Spectators were mysteriously a little thin on the ground. So in the meantime I thought I'd inlcude this one just to demostrate that I've been doing stupid things and suffering for it for at least 24 years. (Notice how I out sprint Mickey Mouse to the line!)

Today's the day

I don't like blogging without adding in at least one photo. Its the images that do the talking. You jsut scan over the text, right? Well, this morning it would be hard to take a photo that wasn't damaging to the local tourist industry. I could be living in the flat lands for all the view of the surrounding mountains will show. And that's assuming that you can keep the lashing rain off the lens.

A grand day for the Ben Nevis Race then!

In an hour or so I'll be heading off to the Fort. The race starts at 1pm from the Claggan Park, so now's about the time to be eating those slow release oats and topping up the hydration levels. And perhaps one last peak at the Mountain Weather Forecast to see if this is all going to pass by noon, revealing a showery, yet bright, early afternoon.

Oh dear! Showers merging to give periods of continuous rain, especially across the mountains of Lochaber. Wind increasing to 60mph over the highest tops. Not much chance of a sun tan today! Oh, what to wear?!

I've got a miniature of whisky for wee Willie Anderson who has, for the last 40 years, stood at the top of Gardyloo Gully, ensuring a safe passage for the runners. He was certainly there when I first ran Ben Nevis in 1988. But today is his last I'm now wondering whether my fingers will be capable of extracting the gift from my bum bag. Or whether I'll be crawling at that point.

So, final preparations... Into the zone... I am a machine, I am a machine, I am a machine,...

Catch you later!

The Final Countdown

Anyone planning walking up Ben Nevis next Saturday? Well, if you are can you let me know because I've got a couple of Mars Bars and perhaps a Bacon Double Cheeseburger that I'd like you to carry up there for me. Yes, a week tomorrow its Ben Nevis Race day.

Nearing the end - 2006

The training is now all but over and its now down to taking it easy and making the final preparations for race day. Its weird. I know I can can get up and down within a sensible time. I've just done it twice in the last couple of weeks. And I've done the race 8 times before over the last 21 years (7 of them in the last 9 years). But even so, pre race nerves can still get the better of me.

Even more weird is the fact that the the pressure is on and yet the only person I'll be racing against on Saturday is myself. I've not got any one else to beat, and the only time that matters is my time. But that's the Ben Race for you. Kind of gets under your skin.

Post race cramp - 2005

All I have to do is avoid all the lurgies floating round for another week. And to avoid doing stupid things like going over on an ankle. Speaking of which, I got in my last half Ben on Wednesday evening. Again the weather was miserable and the grassy bank (the short cut down from the Red Burn at half height) was as wet and slippy as it can be. My descent was very tentative; nothing stupid now. And then having made it safely to the bottom I went over on one ankle and then the other within 100m. Great!

So, the final countdown. One more week to go. Tune again next week to see how it all went.

MayFest Under Way

Our May Beer Festival got under way at the weekend. Not surprisingly the Whit weekend has proved to be an extremely busy time here in Glencoe, and judging by the number of cars on the road its not just Glencoe that's busy.

It all seems to have passed off without incident, and again the staff at Clachaig been working away like bees in a hive, on their mission to keep everyone happy. The festival has again been well received. We're actively soliciting some feedback on 'ale of festival' and at the moment it looks like a close run thing between the Clachaig ale of choice, Fraoch Heather Ale, and Big Lusty May from Houston Brewery (maybe its the badge the blokes like). However, with a cellar full yet to explore, its a bit early to call it.


We can usually rely on Whit week to bring a bit of good weather. We're still waiting. Amidst the chaos of it all I again decided to take a quick jog up the Pap of Glencoe last night. I know, the view isn't as clear as the last couple of trips up there. (Compare with Stunning Evening & Evening on the Pap.) Not that it matters really. Ipod on, a bit of eclectic high energy and it has to be said fairly gay dance music matched by a bit of extremely loud AC/DC and before you know it you're on the top! Can't recommend the path, though. 3 minutes longer and a complete swamp.

Didn't manage the Pap last week. On Monday afternoon, the Glencoe Mountain Rescue Team were called out to the very summit of Bidean nam Bian, the highest peak in Argyll, to go to the aid of a walker who had managed to get all the way up there, but couldn't find a way down again. I think this counts as my highest ever rescue in the glen! You'd have to be standing on the summit cairn to get higher.

Its been a busy spell for the team as well, quite possibly one of the busiest on record with call outs for May now in double digits.

The forecast for the weekend looks like we're in for some warmer weather again. Fingers' crossed.