I would love to say that it was my penultimate corbett but unfortunately not.
On Wednesday afternoon we sat in the truck at the side of the road waiting for the latest deluge of rain to pass and the wind to ease enough to open the door. To say my motivation was absent would be an understatement.
The weather was atrocious even by our standards, the only saving grace was that we had decided to wear wellies and scabby waterproofs for the bike into the bothy. A bike into a bothy is normally quite appealing but not on Wednesday. My trailer, loaded to the brim included 10kg of coal of 4 prime silver birch cloggies was heavy, so heavy that it bent the skewer. It was chucking down with rain and we had a gale force headwind which made the trailer act like a sail. When it wasn't raining we were met with thunder and lightening. Our bike into a bothy was in reality a curse filled walk into a bothy.
So, why did we put ourselves through this? Well, once upon a time there was a Munro called Beinn a'Chlaidheimh. Heather & I had both climbed this before when doing our respective round of the Munro's.
A couple of years ago, the Munro Society had the great idea of remeasuring it and decided that it wasn't worthy enough of Munro status so it got demoted to a Corbett.
Now, I had absolutely no intention of climbing it again (sometimes I have no ethics) but Heather felt that she should so here we are. To be honest, it was a pretty cool day - it's just a shame that it is situated in the back arse of nowhere and beyond.
Our reward this morning was an awesome bike back out to the truck.
