two down, 281 to go!

I am absolutely elated to report that the Munro Plan is back on track. On Sunday, 15th January, I bagged my second Munro! I am thrilled, and proud.

A lot has changed since Ben Lomond. I would say I am in a very different place now than I was back in September 2011. And feeling a lot better about a lot of things. 2012 has started positively and healthily. There has been a change in diet in the flat I share with Dave (the flat has also made much progression in the past year; I now have a living room!! I'm thrilled about that too by the way). It's his change - but I'm pretty much going along for the ride. It's protein-rich and carb-free. It's not always very exciting. Spinach leaves are not always a great replacement for pasta (yes, we did serve bolognase on top of spinach - interesting), oatcakes are not always a great replacement for bread (although delicious), an extra portion of carrots and broccoli is not always a great replacement for potatoes (there is only so much veg a girl can eat). But it is A. Good. Thing. Lots more water, lots more fruit, lots less crap.

And we've both been walking a lot too; averaging six or seven miles daily. After almost three years out, I have made a return to the sport of badminton. Last week I played twice in three days - I managed to get hit on the head by my teammate, a bruised bum after a backwards fall, and a tender, purple thigh after a particularly powerful smash - yes, I managed to injure myself with my own racket. It is a dangerous sport I tell you.

But lots of good stuff going on, and I think I'm feeling better for it.

And of course, ever since the first Munro, I've been champing (chomping?) at the bit to do another. And as you know, dear faithful blog reader, I have tried. But a car crash, a lot of dodgy Scottish weather, and something called Christmas got in the way. You can only imagine the stirrings deep in my walking soul when I heard the forecast for the past weekend. Cold, but dry. Perfect Munro climbing weather (says me, the expert).

We threw together a plan for Sunday; the first without any family members. I was worried how I would cope without my parents experience and sensibility (okay okay I was most worried about how I would cope without the food they usually bring). But this would be a different dynamic; myself, Dave, and two of Dave's friends Col and Gibson. Good guys, good banter, good walking. Schiehallion it was. Third time lucky...

The day started with porridge, complete with dried cranberries, crushed almonds, brown sugar, and (shudder) skimmed milk. We then drove (after scraping ice from the car in minus six degrees!) for around two and a half hours; a lovely drive with some early morning freezing fog, some cracking scenery going up the Sma Glen.

We parked at base camp (aka what we thought was base camp based on the other cars parked there) and began walking through the forest path.

We came out of the forest only to realise that we were about 300m up a hill from the path we should've been on. So we tramped through the heather, narrowly avoiding massive break-yer-ankle holes, and joined the proper walkers path. I was relieved to see we weren't the only ones who had made this mistake (although the couple behind said they had followed us, under the impression we knew our way, fools). So we began the climb. Officially. The path zig-zagged its way upwards, steeply. I struggled almost immediately. I had so many layers on due to the forecast (risk of hypothermia above 800m), but for now we were in direct sunlight and sweat was fast in coming. (I later noticed that I had sweated right through all my layers and my hoody). Up we went, steadily, slowly, surely, sweatily.

Soon the path went left, traversing the mountain. Soon we were walking straight into icy winds, and so all those layers that had been removed were put back on. I could feel my heart beating in my throat. It was bitingly fresh, and we had to trudge our way through a fair bit of snow. We kept passing people with ice picks and crampons and serious walking equipment. I was worried that we were ill-prepared for the snow we were heading through and towards.

But for every other ice pick spotted, there was also a child, a pair of trainers, a pair of jeans, and - the worst pair of all - a pair of shorts.

I started feeling really good and (dare I say it?) enjoying it. I kept thinking, life and mettle in my heels, life and mettle in my heels, life and mettle in my heels, life and mettle life and mettle life and go go go.
Schiehallions' many false summits and sporadic cairns were a test to the mental strength. Many times I felt close to the top, and I got a shift on. Many times I was wrong. The same thing happened on Ben Lomond, although that was far more challenging because the summit was never in sight and the mist was all-consuming.

The boulder field was, as expected, challenging.

But I hopped on through it, smiling, getting ever and ever closer to the summit of my second Munro. I genuinely felt ecstatic, I felt chuffed, I felt on top of the world. And soon, I was:

Two of Scotland's highest mountains climbed, only another two hundred and eighty-one to go!!

We didn't spend too long at the top; there was no wind, but it was freezing. The views were incredible; we were above the clouds, and could see so much. Loch Tummel to the right, Loch Rannoch to the left. It was difficult to distinguish between the clouds and the snow-capped mountain tops, but we could just make out the mountains of Glencoe and -ohwhatwasthat - the top of Ben Nevis, the highest mountain in the UK!

There was lukewarm tea to be had, accompaigned by smushed cupcakes, made the day before in a baking frenzy. But soon I couldn't feel my hands, and it was time to go. The descent was fairly rapid, although care was taken on the icy rocks and packed snow. We passed a woman sliding on her bum. We passed quite a number of people on their way up, at around 2-2.30pm, so I hope they got up and back down before darkness fell. We trooped our way back through the snow, and then we were back on the zig-zag path, and it was then a relief to finish the descent and join a level path. The knees and hips were starting to give way.

We decided not to tramp back up through the heather thankfully, but it meant there was an extra 15minutes of walking on the road back to the car. Not ideal, but it didn't quash the happiness of a glorious day, a fantastic climb, lots of fresh air, and just great times.

Col, Dave, moi, Gibson

I thoroughly enjoyed conquering Schiehallion. There was more to it than just a Munro; there was emotion tied to it, there was meaning in the mettle. I'm relieved it is done - as it was becoming something to fear. I'm pleased we chose such a good day. I'm impressed at the achievement (because it was seriously tough going at times!). I'm proud.