Saturday's planned walk was called off at the last minute for domestic reasons. I can't usually get away on a Sunday, but good old Martha agreed to forego the dubious pleasure of her son keeping her company this afternoon, and came over to see to the dugs while Marion was at work.
So, me Andy & Cara headed off to the nature reserve at Creag Meagaidh, with a view to having a go at Carn Liath. Part of the reason that I didn't take either of the dogs (I'd normally have one, even if my mum was dugsitting) was that given the weather conditions, I rather suspected that we'd end up driving for two hours and then walking for twenty minutes before turning round all depressed and driving for two hours back down the road. However in the event, although it was indeed wet, horrible, windy and surprisingly cold...we got to the top.
You leave the big car park, walk up the signposted hill path, pass the visitor centre lean-to thing next to a big hoose, and keep on going. It's an excellent path, and you can see it stretching away into the distance up through the corrie, en route to the other Munros. We were hanging a right up heathery slopes towards Carn Liath. There's supposed to be a fainter path, but we missed it so a bit of a steep trudge through boggy, shrubby, heather-covered slopes ensued but it was over after about 25 minutes and we came across the elusive track. It then runs all the way to the summit, pretty much although you can lose sight of it among the regular rocky patches. Very very slippery rocky patches, for future reference. I don't know if my boot soles are just past it entirely, or if someone had been out greasing the boulders up earlier on, but there was a fair degree of dancing on ice-type flailing about occurring.
Two and a half hours to the top, some respite from the weather behind the cairn, sandwiches and hot tea (the first flask-accompanied trip for months) and then about 80 minutes back to the car.
Nae photies. One's camera would have got soaked. Good to get out again though - it's been a while.