The Smiddy attracted a medley of mountaineers mostly of the Old Fogey tendency (viz. Peters Biggar & Reynolds, the Broons, Jim T, the Moffatts, & Robin) to Dundonnell the first weekend in March.
Saturday morning the sensible people (Marion, Fay & Bob) elected to spend a fine day enjoying a coastal walk while the diehard faction decided, with varying degrees of enthusiasm, to salvage something from a largely snowfree winter by tackling a big and scary Very Easy gully on An Teallach. The first of two salient characteristics of this climbing quartet was, firstly, its age profile, the “apprentice” being at least 5 years younger than the next most junior of his colleagues, despite having turned 45 the previous week; and, secondly, that 75% of the party bore the christian name Peter, which promised no end of confusion with the climbing calls. This
fine body of men creaked its way uphill into Coire Glas Thuill with some lethargy, but you can’t keep a good man down, so once geared up and with the objective (North Gully, I/II) finally in view, Peter B. was up and away with the alacrity of a hound who has just scented the fox. The ascent proved both straightforward and enjoyable for all but the apprentice (alias the token Non-Peter), who as tail-end charlie had some trouble recovering Peter M’s impressively bomb-proof belay, consequently having the patriarch haul him up the rest of the climb like a sack of potatoes so as not to keep the other Peters waiting too long for lunch.
Sunday saw a textbook example of the IMC’s logistical prowess in the field as almost the entire complement of hut personnel headed for the coast at Gruinard to survey the crags for climbing potential, followed by a walk in the rocky hinterland. The plan endured until a break for elevenses in a pleasant riverside meadow, following which the crew fragmented into three (possibly four?) splinter groups, each of whom set off to varying points of the compass without telling each other what they were up to. One free spirit managed all the way back to his car (& thence to Inverness) without meeting anyone else at all, while another abandoned her husband to join a more interesting group who went off to view a waterfall, only to become tired of that and head off in yet another direction (though she and spouse were re-united later in the day). All this is reassuring evidence that the IMC continues to offer clubability without regimentation, and that there is at least one organization anarchists can safely join without compromising their principles. Long may this happy state of affairs continue.
Robin
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