« No Nessy but Great Riding | Main | On to the Isle of Arran »
June 25, 2007
From the Top of Ben Nevis, to the Mud Bogs of Mull
I climbed the highest peak in the UK the other day. After getting 2/3 of the way up Ben Nevis I was in cloud cover and saw nothing. The top portion of the mountain is known to be cover in cloud 9 days out of 10, and I wasn't lucky this time. The walk, which was about 4-miles one-way, took 2 1/4 hours to summit, and about 2 hours down. It was a good hike which left my legs in immense pain for the following 3 days. Surprising how many different muscles are in involved in a hike. Interestingly enough I easily pedaled over to the Isle of Mull the next day, by way of the Road to the Isles (beautiful), however upon reaching the cottage Dad and family was staying at I had huge problems climbing up and down the staircase.
I made it to Mull to join my Aunts, Dad and Dall at the MacLean/McLean/McLane (ect.) clan gathering which was a hoot. I met many many MacLeans from all over the world, with the largest continguencies being from the UK, New Zealand, Australia, USA and Canada. Trying to be subtle I attempted to photograph some of my favorites, punk McLean, Braveheart McLean, Redneck McLean and my McLeans. There was an evening Ceilidh, a day out at Duart Castle and of course the Grand Dance. The Grand Dance wherein my Aunt, her friend Sandy and I managed to smuggle water bottles full of cheap red wine into the event. There was a local band and dancing all evening. I do believe the average age was well into the 50's, however, I had a great time being spun around and getting stepped on out on the dance floor, (I was always in everyone's way - it seemed).#
Dad and I managed to sneak away for a hike on the Isle. Unfortunately the trail turned into a sheep path, which turned into a creek crossing, which then disappeared. We trekked across what a appeared to be a nice grassy field, only to find it was in fact a mud bog! With a miscalculated step your foot would be sucked into a deep pit of reddish muck, (as Dad and I found out first hand). Luckily we came out exactly in the wrong spot, exactly at the right time for our tardy aunts to pick us up.
Posted by jmclean at June 25, 2007 11:10 AM
Comments
Just in case there is any resemblance between redneck McLean and myself, I would like to point out, I have never worn a kilt and I do not own a tartan shirt.
Posted by: Dad at June 27, 2007 08:23 PM