Staoineag bothy trip

After the last bothy trip I couldn't wait to get back out in the hills again. Dave and Paul had to cancel leaving just myself, Matt(Barry), Chris and my Dad. Matt and I arrived in Glasgow just before lunchtime on Friday. We had a tea and set off to pick up Chris. The plan was to drive up to Bridge of Orchy and get the train to Corrour and it's about 7 miles into Staoineag bothy however this time in our packs were bags of coal which makes a massive difference.
Chris Sloan was a terrible influence, 40 minutes into the walk had already peer pressured me into rolling a joint. Big mistake! My legs felt drained and my breathing was fucked but I recovered after about half an hour.
The scenery here was fantastic, down by Loch Treig there was more of the petrified remains of the ancient Caledonian Forest. There is a picture further down, not as spectacular as Ben Alder but still very cool.
There aren't words to describe the relief of turning the corner and seeing this sight. About 5 minutes before I was thinking of dumping my pack (that 2nd joint at the bridge didn't help matters.) but finally an end in sight.
The icy river was the best water I had ever tasted even with my feet steeped in it. To get to the bothy we had to cross these stepping stones - very dodgy with tired legs and a heavy pack.

In our haste to submerge our feet we forgot the bothy code of having a tea ready for anyone coming in. Something that Dad was quick to point out when he arrived. Here it comes!
We had the whole bothy to ourselves (for the whole weekend as it turned out) and it had been well cleaned and stocked up with wood. There was an upstairs in this bothy, my guess is that about 40 people could fit in this wee cottage.

(Dad, Chris and Matt)

Matt brought some 'maya dust', he had been talking about how amazing this stuff was for firelighting. It turns out that he had never used it before and after half an hour of trying to light it with his flint we turned to the trusty BBQ firelighters and lighter. The fire didn't need to be light again for the whole weekend. A combination of coal and pyromania meant that the fire never died down even when we wanted it to (me and Chris just couldn't leave it alone), this resulted in all of us sitting against the back wall with our tops off.

Above the stream, grunting Staoineag stands,
stone stuck to living stone
at one with rock
an elbow to the west.
Cold from corries, wind slaps the sheetings hard
and fires the hail, to slot along the corrugations
seeking entry.

A sentry
in the narrow glen she stands defiant,
desperately alone,
except for coughing sheep and memories
thrown from distant towns
by hillmen who here have bedded down
and briefly called it home

All the way up the river to the bothy and beyond it to the woods there were some beautiful waterfalls. I missed out in getting a picture of the best one because I kept forgetting to take the camera to the small forest when gathering wood.

Here's dramatic effect of Ben Nevis in the distance, Britain's highest mountain, is emphasised by the fact that it begins its rise from sea-level on the shores of Loch Linnhe, to tower 4,406ft (1,344m) above the town of Fort William, providing an almost paternal presence.
The river and glen running past the mountain both carry the name 'Nevis', as does the remote sea loch at Knoydart, 40 miles to the west. In Gaelic the mountain's name, Beinn Nibheis, has been linked with Irish and Gaelic words meaning poisonous or terrible, implying a fairly ominous character.
While Matt was washing the dishes he lost my dads mug. He didn't know what to do so he ran and got me. The water was very cold...
After experiencing the icy goodness of Abhainn Rath I later managed to convince Chris and Matt to join me in a swim. At the first sandy beach from the bothy we found a steep bank which we used as a plunge pool. The water was too cold to stay in for long but when you came out your whole body would burn, it was amazing.
The picture is shit, I had had a fair bit of wine but you can see a herd of deer. There was a natural route for them about half way up the hill just outside the bothy, we saw hundreds of them. Chris and I quite fancied going out and snagging one of them, free venison and an opportunity to leave the head for Dad to wake up snuggled up to. Priceless...
Here I am laughing away as usual. Dad KO'd behind me, now just imagine the head of a deer positioned next to him with its tongue out. hahaha
Look at this photo, how cool is that? Even youse tossers that are against hash have to admire the aesthetic beauty.

Thou Shalt not Pass.

Our time at Staoineag has passed so we stock up and clean up. Dad left a little earlier, he has wee legs ye see. We sat and had one last J before making our way.


Here as promised some of Auld Caledonia. By this point Matt was crying about a blister and I was panicking about the train, maybe we shouldn't have had that joint before we left the bothy.
Not far after this bridge there were a few JCBs that had scarred the whole surrounding area so Matt and I smashed them up best we could, it wasn't quite the bonfire that dad suggested but at least they'll have to remove them for repair - Dicks.
Cutting it close; we arrived at Corrour Station. Dad was beginning to worry because it was 6 hours till the next train.