An Caisteal

Having aborted a solo of this route last year due to extreme winds, I was back with friends to take it on in winter conditions

Cold, frozen and inhospitable

After our last outing in December we were in good spirits ahead of this one, feeling more confident of our abilities to take on more extreme winter conditions. As this route was on my 'tried once before and aborted' list I was personally keen to crack it. The plan today was to take on An Caisteal and Beinn a'Chroin in an estimated 6 or 7 hours. Over 8 hours later we had made it back to the car having only just managed one having sealed our fate that day in mistakes made in the first hour.

An Caisteal rather aptly means 'The Castle'. This mountain was beginning to become a bit of a Fortress to me personally. At 3264ft it sits roughly midway in the Munro Heights Table

I had pressed on with my Map Reading in recent months as had Michael. I had my GPS and Liam had his one too but a combination of lousy weather, unfounded assurance the route would be obvious and a general sense of haste knowing it was a short day daylight wise conspired and we made the wrong decisions from the off. In hindsight it was gratifying that we took collective responsibility for the errors as I felt chiefly responsible being the map and compass carrier but, as we have done previously, we didn't take the time early enough in the route to check things over.

As I walk though the Valley of the Shadow of.......F**K it

Looking back, the error was a simple one but the domino effect it had on our day was immense. Following the track along the River Falloch we quite simply came off this path too late and rather than going up and over the ridge line that Sron Gharbh and Twistin Hill we ended up floundering into the lower slopes East of these minor humps - at times striking upwards over heather and snow covered slopes before veering back down again. This type of terrain saps the energy and morale rather quickly and with the weather turning we made slow progress.

Michael checking my progress

We approached Twistin Hill from the north east, ascending via Coire Eich and patience was becoming a bit frayed amongst us all. Liam made the call that turned out to be the correct one in terms of best approach to An Caisteal as, from the foot of the crags at this point, it's not immediately obvious. Once over the roughest part of these then it was a fairly straightforward yomp to the summit but another issue was beginning to arise.

I was in bad shape

I had on identical kit to my outing last month in Drumochter where it was arguably colder. Whether it was the driving sleet, the fatigue from a difficult walk in, or the continual stop/start progress cold was now seeping into my many layers. I had donned my additional base layer and to all intents and purposes was more than equipped for these conditions but my legs were seriously beginning to freeze and the first signs of a shiver began to press against my lips.

It had been a very difficult day already and, reluctant to add more negativity to the atmosphere I sought to press on. Liam and Michael knew full well I hated descending in any conditions but, despite my age and size, I can usually hold my own on any ascent. This was different - nobody was going anywhere fast but I was falling behind. Grateful that they were taking the time to stop and look back but conscious they were fighting their own battle which involved moving, keeping warm and keeping going.

We have had previous outings where we have 'called it' where conditions or circumstances have meant we have taken the decision to halt and turn back. This has always been a group decision, based on factors affecting everybody and, I am thankful to write, underline that we always work in the best interests of everybody with no one person calling the shots. This time it felt different as it was just me.

I called it

Later, both Liam and Michael would reason (and quite rightly) the extra hours we had added to the walk, the rapidly changing weather and fading light made it the right call for everybody but at that moment it was a crushing disappointment. My limbs felt frozen, my mind was beginning to haze up and I was 'zoning out', loosing concentration and footing all to easily.

This was around 200 yards from the summit so we pressed on. The obligatory Summit Selfies and Handshakes ensued but I felt much like the boxer who has won the fight but been taken the distance, heavy and punch weary arms held aloft by the trainers but legs ready to buckle

Liam and I, Kings of 'The Castle'

The initial ascent was rather more technical than expected. What would have been reasonably straightforward 'hands on' steps up became a bit more precarious as 'steps down' - covered in sheet ice as they were and any notion of a straightforward walk off evaporated quickly.

Michael tackling one of several awkward downs steps

Once below the full snow line the route opened up to a short but impressive ridge with a wonderful view over Cruach Adrain and surrounding hills to the West and for a brief moment I was lifted out of my own little battle and gently carried to a place of stark beauty. I think I even chatted for the 1st time in about half an hour and forgot about the disappointment of the previous few hours, grateful to be coming off in one piece.

Reaching the banks of the River Falloch heralded the beginning of the final stretch and the beginning of a short but heavy snow storm. If it was bad down here imagine what it's like up there was mentioned to one of the lads, and I was grateful to them for it.