18th August: Big Ben

Fort William… A few years back LSS & I celebrated our honeymoon there for the few days we managed to grab alone after our wedding and in the process climbed up Ben Nevis… Since then LSS’s younger son has been in awe and wanted to do the same, so when we booked a week’s holiday in Fort William, a second walk up the mountain for the two of us and a first for him was planned, with LSS’s older son and his girlfriend also along for the ride, as well as our 3 four legged companions!

At the first opportunity the weather allowed we made our attempt at the ascent, driving off to the visitor’s centre and parking-up for the day… Now this blog is about running, so no-doubt you’re wondering why I’m writing about walking up and down a big hill? Well, with LSS and her boys along and the fact that LSS has walked the route before she would be able to act as a guide for them, I had the chance of a lifetime: running back to where we were staying from the top of the highest mountain in the British Isles.

I had planned the route in advance so I knew the distance ahead of me was 23 miles across the trails to ‘home’, and pretty much all of it was downhill (unsurprisingly) with the route plugged in to my Garmin to follow. The plan was for me to race LSS & co. back from the summit - their walking to my running to see if it was possible to beat them by running a more direct route to their plod back down the tourist trail and driving back.

Commencing our ascent just before midday with the mountain top shrouded in cloud, we walked our way from up from the visitor’s centre and hit the main path up the mountain just beyond the cafe. It was here that LSS’s eldest son’s girlfriend decided that the task in hand was a little bigger than anticipated and bailed-out, which was a wise move as the round trip is a good 7 hours and better not to start than to be wanting to bail just halfway up knowing there’s all that walking to be done!

Leaving the cafe at the bottom behind.

The four of us that remained began the meander up the tourist path. The first half of it to the waterfall is pretty-much all steps hewn from the boulders that are strewn around. After the waterfall it metamorphoses in to a stony trail that has a gentle slope and zig-zags its way up the side to the final quarter, where above the cloud-line it changes once more, this time in to a lunar landscape of light grey rocks of various shapes and sizes; all of them lying loose making the path pretty indistinct in places, leaving you to navigate through the mist from cairn to cairn.

 

The clouds weren't the only moody thing on the mountain today!

The whole party including the trio of spaniels... Keep an eye out for that flat stone above left the dog's head, it might be important later!

By the time we hit the snow-line just underneath the summit the hours of walking and the temperature drop were having an effect on LSS’s boys - they are 15 and 18 so not children, however like children they had failed to prepare themselves adequately for the task in hand… Despite the chivvying and cajoling of their mother before and ensuring they had adequate footwear, clothing, and back-packs to carry provisions, some times they have to help themselves that little bit: The eldest had not brought enough clothing with him to deal with the temperature drop - once in the clouds the temperature with the wind had dropped to around -5C and he was suffering as a consequence, although the walk itself had been taken in his stride. The youngest on the other hand, well he was ill-prepared physically and had only eaten 2 slices of toast that morning and had brought 1 cheese roll with him to eat on the whole journey up and down, which he knew could be as long as 8 hours!

Safe to say the novelty had worn off by now!

Once in the cloud-line, the youngest began to really suffer and was starting to make irrational decisions, which seemed to indicate that he was borderline hypothermic. He was insisting on stopping for a rest every few metres, but would just stand there facing in to the wind lightly hunched over rather than make any effort to shelter behind a cairn with his back to the wind which is rationally you would do… He was cold and hungry and on the most exposed part of the mountain so we had to make a decision about him and his welfare at that point. From our last journey LSS and I knew we were only around 15 minutes from the summit and that whilst just as cold, there were the walls of the old observatory to shelter behind and to warm up over some coffee from the flask we had brought with us, a chance to rest and recover a little before making the descent.

The sheer drop off the north of the summit plateau.

I had taken plenty of breakfast bars and gels with me for my run back, but with LSS’s youngest in his condition to give him the energy kick to get him moving and up to the summit I gave him a couple of my cereal bars and energy gels, which he gratefully accepted - even saying thanks, which is unheard of from him!.. Between the 3 of us we managed to coax him onwards to the summit where we all ate what food we had brought with us and attempted to warm up with the thermos of coffee… Here I had to make a decision. With the state LSS’s youngest was in, I gave him all my food and gels (except one breakfast bar and gel in case of emergency for me) to help get him down the mountain as he was in far greater need of the sustenance than me - After all I do have a sizeable paunch to live off, so I’d just have to tough-out the run on an empty stomach. At least I had my Camelbak with electrolyte drink in it so hydration would not be the issue, which I had figured could be the bigger problem if unprepared for that eventuality.

After stripping down to my running gear, I gave my gloves to LSS’s eldest as I would not need them once back below the clouds and I could cope with frozen hands until then so he could at least benefit from them in the meantime, and all of us got up for the walk back down, and in my case the run!

Saying my goodbyes and wishing them the best of luck getting down, I started-off on my run home. My hands were already frozen from the cold to the point I could hardly feel them as I left the plateau and ran through the snow down on to the slopes off the summit making a really good pace as I let gravity be my friend, although there were a couple of times that I had to slow to a walk as the rocks underfoot were just too treacherous to attempt anything else… Soon the path firmed-up and I was able to start again, sailing passed the walkers both on their way up and down, who looked at me like I was bat-shit crazy… which just spurred me on down slope and round each switchback, until.

OH SHIIIIIIITTT!

just as I rounded one switchback, as I went to overtake her, a walker decided to step out backwards. I had a split second to make a decision: I could crash in to her and god-knows what the consequences would be to her and me, or I could try and jink round her… This was the only real option, so I shaped my body to squeeze round her, but it was too tight and I lost my footing, or tripped on a rock, or something: I just knew my feet were lost from beneath me and I was falling and I knew it was not going to be a happy ending.

I tried to brace myself for impact and prevent serious injury… My forearm and hip hit the mercifully flat and smooth rocks first, then I couldn’t help my head from being next. The left side of my face hit the stone with a lovely crack like a coconut shy, smacking my cheekbone and jaw hard… As soon as I picked myself up I knew it was not good. I could feel my lip was busted, and a quick touch of it confirmed that with my hand full of my own claret. My main concern was my cheekbone. The way it had connected, I was sure it would have split the skin… The lady I had nearly collided with was very apologetic and was very keen to ensure I was ok. The lip was an obvious injury which she pointed out - I said to her its split so not too much of a biggy - I had already realised my teeth were still in tact so that was a big bonus! She then said ‘and your knees’… I looked down and I had skinned both of them, again no biggy as I’ve been doing that since a child! I asked her if my cheekbone was ok as it really was not feeling right - she said there was nothing there - which was in one way good, but I could feel it swelling so I knew I’d cracked the bone having done it before.

Weighing up my situation I had to make a decision. I figured that LSS & the boys were about 15-20 minutes behind me and then it would take 3 hours for us all to walk back to the van, by which time I would have cooled, the adrenaline faded away and possibly gone in to shock before they even caught up with me… So my only option really was to carry on going and keep moving to avoid things swelling and seizing - I could worry about that later on!

Dusting myself down I carried on with the run, heading off past the waterfall getting even funnier looks from the walkers as I was looking like I had gone a couple of rounds with Tyson! As I ran I tried to assess the damage. My arm was in agony, so I attempted to waggle my fingers to ascertain if there was a proper break - something that was not the easiest to do with frozen fingers that were like blocks of ice! I got them moving so at least I had peace of mind!

Views up the valley to the north face of Ben Nevis.

After veering off the tourist path, the route took me round the north side of the mountain, a path that whilst clearly there and on the OS maps, is not walked too often. This trail would take me along the side of the mountain that no-one ever sees before moving me off towards the Nevis ski resort and from there following trails until I pick up the East Highland Way as it runs parallel to the Spean River until I get to the first bridge across the river and doubling back to the holiday lodge.

Crossing the mountain river.

Looking back up the valley.

The path in front.

The terrain was absolutely stunning - picking my way around the north side of the mountain I could spy the path heading off round the valley and back in front of me on the other side of the mountain river… Seeing a bit of fun I decided to skip the path and go direct across the other side of the valley, fording the river in the process.

Back on the path I followed the weaving trail down along the river until it veered off in to the ski-centre’s grounds, where I saw the first people for about 10 miles since I left the path up Ben Nevis and its walkers.

Through the ski centre, and the tunnel under the gondolas I journeyed across the forestry trails in the process of being managed, swathes of the spruces being felled and logged… And that was when a new pain hit me. I was about half way in to the run and every step with my left foot was agony. It felt like two bones in my foot behind the toes were rubbing together each time my foot hit the ground. It was the kind of pain that makes you want to vom, and no pain killer was going to help me here… I must have triggered this with the fall.

Not too bad a view from the log I was sitting on.

When I could not bare it any more I sat down on a felled log and massaged my foot, hoping to ease some of the raging pain. With stopping for the rest I tucked in to my one and only breakfast bar whilst resting before heading off on the next section… This part when looked at on the OS map seemed to be a trail following a stream. Whilst marked as a footpath, in reality it was merely now an animal’s track through marshlands… Boy was that mile or so heavy going, varying from ankle to knee deep swampy marsh in places, although it did have an unexpected benefit; the continual soaking in the cold water acted as an anaesthetic to my foot and by the time I emerged eventually on to a proper hard trail I was able to continue my running again.

The birch forest bordering the swamp.

I could hear the sound of pouring water in the river running through a gorge a few metres to my side, tumbling over rocks and some waterfalls as I cut through woodland single-track trail before finding the forestry path again and running past more active deforestation of the land, which seems to be in a great deal of flux at present.

Eventually I managed to hit the road south east of Spean Bridge and followed it eastwards for a time, joining the East Highlands way and crossing farmland with the plentiful sheep and the occasional surprised hare.

Bridge over the River Spean.

Passing the village of Roy Bridge I was able cross the river Spean and the railway line as darkness began to fall. Unfortunately I did not bring a head torch with me so I had to run the last mile back west along the A82 to the holiday chalet in near darkness keeping hard on to the verge to avoid the few cars that did come along.

Arriving starving and exhausted from the exertions it was amusing seeing the look of shock and surprise on the face of LSS and her parents as I walked in looking a touch battered. They said I should go to the hospital to get things checked-out, but what was the point? There’s nothing they could really do for a busted cheek bone, bruised bones and cuts, except more powerful painkillers, but that wasn’t really worth the potential 5 hour wait!

Something I made a point of doing on the way up the mountain was to pick up some of the litter that other less conscientious people have left behind, so here's the little lot I stuffed in my pockets:

Not a great deal, but a little less left of other people's detritus on the mountain.

Thanks for reading this far... I suppose you deserve a pay-off for your patience wading through this rambling indulgence, so here's the money-shot of some the damage I did to myself: