During our a 2 week Scottish escapade, it became apparent that Danko and I had a window of opportunity for a mini Barely Hanging Pod adventure. We seized the opportunity with all four hands.
Burly Searly (Podcast Manager) was off back down south to fix some van issues, we had agreed to meet at 4 pm in Fort William. This gave me and dan 8 hours to play with. After a short consultation with Mix Master Mike our on staff Scottish Adventure Specialist. We decided to head to Glencoe. We had just finished a big day of Trad in the cairngorms and were eager for more mountains. This also plopped us right by Fort William, perfect for Surly!
The A82 is a phenomenal road, starting from Glasgow and ending in Inverness it spans the Scottish highlands and passes some of the countries most iconic and gnarly looking peaks.
Buachaille Etive Mòr is one of these gnarled peaks. It was around 5 years ago when I first saw the perfect spiked tip of this mountain, Whilst on a winter trip with my little brother and Connall. Since then the mountain has both allured and intimidated me, especially when seeing it donned in its full winter coat, ice and snow running like veins down its deep gullies and sheer walls.
These days I’m a little more mountain ready, and I’ve slowly trained that inner voice of doubt to work as adventure fuel. The feeling of heading into something a little unknown adds to this sense of adventure.
Well, Dan and I set our sights on Buachaille Etive Mòr, armed with info from Mikey and photos of the grade 4 scramble we were going to attempt.
The weather couldn’t have been better, with clear skies and sun. We scoped out the Curved Ridge and Crowberry Tower, and stormed ahead like the rock fiends we are. The scramble was beautiful, we moved quickly through the main section, when we hit Crawberry Tower, we took the opportunity to attempt a steeper side adventure to the summit.
Spirits were high from the epic speedy scramble, moving over that amount of steep terrain so quickly and fluidly is very fun.
Aldi reduced Watermelon was a summit treat. After a quick but respectful offering to Oden (a raven flying around the summit), we set off for the descent. We ran across the summits plateau then took a sharp right down some fun looking scree. We sprinted down scree slopes for around 150m then quickly realised this wasn’t the planned descent.
We strode on ahead, excited by the speed at which we tackled the mountain, we were keen to get back off the mountain in under 3 hours just for the fun of it. Although I value taking my time with outdoor experiences, being mindful of the moment, manifesting gratitude for the lucky life I manage to lead - Doing things quicker than anticipated always seems to come with a sense of achievement. So with that, we threw ourselves down scree, gullies and goat paths.
Finally, we hit the long heather slopes that lead up to the rocks of the mountain. We hurled down these taking no regard for finding a path. Rocks and holes littered the heathery field. We both had a few tumbles. But rolling on forward we ran with more wild energy. Spurring each other on with maniacal cackles.
At the base of the mountain, there’s a beauty of a bothy with a river flowing by it. The hut worked as a marker for the start and endpoint of the mountain day. We reached the hut, sweaty, dirty and at the edge of our cardio ability. The only thing to do was strip down jump into the river, relax and then go on to throw rocks at each other.
Walking back to the car in our underwear we passed a cycle tourer, who was cycling from north Scotland to Swansea. He recounted his experience of watching from afar, as two mountain trolls tumbled down the mountain and into the river. Apparently, we made his day & I’ve never felt more proud.
Days like that fill my spirit.
(Our route)
(Scottish Gaelic: Buachaille Èite Mòr, meaning "the herdsman of Etive")
The Buachaille is one of those perfectly imposing sights that sets fear into the heart of any novice climber. When I first set my gaze upon it I felt its summons. However I was not ready, so instead, I composed a photo and set an intention to return one day. Two summers later I returned with a friend, we scaled the curved ridge and ran along the hidden plateau. We descended down the far right gully and sprinted down the heather slopes before jumping into the Etive River.
Walking back to the car we passed a cycle tourer, who was cycling from north Scotland to Swansea. He recounted his experience of watching from afar, as two mountain trolls tumbled down the mountain and into the river. Apparently, we made his day & I’ve never felt more proud.
(A3 Limited edition of 50)