Big Ben

Seven years ago, I had to come off the hill while climbing the Five Sisters in Kintail.    My knee was so painful I was holding up the group.   As it transpired, that was to be my last Munro at the time. The cause of the pain became clear and a new hip was required. More pathology kept me from getting back to the big hills but I've always wanted to do one more before giving up completely.

What about the big one. Despite having done a good few Munros, I'd never climbed Ben Nevis.

It was a fine day, so I set off to do the straightforward, tourist approach up the pony track built in 1883 to service the long defunct weather station at the summit.

Imagine a seemingly endless stone staircase with every step a different size and shape and depth and sometimes more than one level on each step and you get some idea of the pony track. Proper walking is impossible.

 A succession of baby steps and giant steps and sideways shuffles are all that is possible and always upwards. 

The views as you get higher make it worthwhile. Looking down Glen Nevis to the Mamores with Stob Ban in the foreground, the landscape is dramatic. Equally scenic is the view back to Fort William and Loch Eil.

But the slog goes on up and up and up. Five and a half hours. Lochan Meall an t-Suidhe, is often called the Halfway lochan.. it isn't !!

Lochan Meall an t-Suidhe

After the rocky staircase there was a wide detour by the Lochan on easier going but then back to the path with boulders and scree intermixed. Crossing the lower end of a waterfall provide icy cool drinks and a few negative ions to boost the flagging spirit.

Zig-zagging up and up and up eventually the summit came into sight on the other side of a small snow-field.

This delighted a couple of boys from Brisbane who hadn't seen snow before. I was just delighted to see the summit.

Snowfield- summit obscured by mist

Small birds were flitting about in the scree and rocks - snow buntings, I'm sure. 

Unfortunately, a smirr of rain and mist came in just then to obscure the summit plateau but cleared quickly.

The descent began easily enough to begin with then became increasingly painful as each jolting downward step hit the old knees. That's the thing about hills they don't care how much you hurt there is no other way but to put one foot past the other and cover the ground, the hill doesn't get any smaller, the path doesn't get any shorter.

Ravens were circling overhead. They had obviously picked me out as a potential  carcase.

Starry Saxifrage, a true mountain plant

By the time I'd got to road level, my joints were telling me that it was indeed seven years since that last Munro and they and I were seven years older but not seven years wiser.

Five and a half hours up and four hours down, longer than expected, but it is done.

I am cured. I no longer have a hankering to do one more Munro. The knees have spoken.

Two enthusiasts planning to make a more rapid descent than I could manage!

I must add a special thanks to the Scottish - Canadian couple who generously drove the blogger back to his car when he came off the hill by the wrong path and ended up miles from where he had parked it... and gave him a can of Irn-bru.   My knees give thanks for that gesture!!