Karen’s Final Munro

The prologue to my Munro Tale was September Two Thousand and Four, With a ladies hike up Lochnagar, I’d never been up it before. It was a preparation walk for my Himalayan trek, little did I know what lay ahead, Because I got the bug on that glorious day, and hill-walking was now in my head.

But the real story began in Two Thousand and Five when I met the man of my dreams, Paul invited me to do Mayar and Driesh, and we became the best hill-bagging team. We’ve done all but twenty of my Munros together, and I really can’t thank him enough, There’s been loads of fabulous days on the hills, many of which have been quite tough.

There was an epic outing in Two Thousand and Seven when we tackled the Fisherfield Six, Two nights in a tent and a fourteen hour day, with all weathers thrown in for good mix. We pitched near a burn and crossed a dry river when we started our long day ahead, But torrential rain all through the night saw us waking on a soft water bed.

We reached my hundredth Munro that very same year, with a meal at the Ptarmigan, Cairngorm, It was a memorable day but without any views, the weather once again true to form. The halfway point was Hogmanay Two Thousand and Eight, with Paul and the late David Beare, A frost inversion on Beinn Fhada made an awesome day with this fun-loving pair.

Two Thousand and Eight was indeed a great year, with thirty three Munros in the bag, One of the biggest achievements was the Inn Pinn on Skye, completed in thick mist and clag. That very same year I met Anne from SMHC at the RGU climbing wall, She invited me to a weekend at Sail Mhor Croft, my first adventures without Paul.

Joining the club is one of the best things I’ve done, and not just for days in the hills, The camaraderie and friendships are up there with the best, and the passion for hiking instilled. A memorable day in Two Thousand and Nine was my first time on Forcan Ridge, With Anne and Peter and Kenny and Jack, a glorious sunny day with no midge.

I scrambled more easily in those younger days, back climbing the steps with little fear, A different story thirteen years later, when the heart-stopping moments were clear. In September that year was Paul’s final Munro, on Ben More on a horrible day. The champagne flowed horizontally into the glasses, but we determined to celebrate come what may.

One month later Paul then joined the club, having seen how much fun was to be had, His first outing was Glen Affric – The Windiest Day – he must have thought we were all quite mad. On to Two Thousand and Ten, lots more tales to be told, with Carn Mor Dearg Arête in the snow, Followed later by the Mad Mamore Day, with eight out of ten in a row.

In Two Thousand and Eleven the bagging came to a pause, when we moved abroad for six years, But an awesome weekend in Strawberry Cottage meant saying goodbye with some tears. With two hundred and fifteen Munros now in the bag, our hiking turned to Asia and Turkey. The lure of Scotland never abated, but experiences like Kinabalu were quite quirky.
 
In Two Thousand and Eighteen two became three when we returned with Barney the dog. We trained him up to bag the Munros, his first, Ben Cruachan in the fog. One year later there was an epic May Week, on Skye with wall to wall sunshine. I was able to finish all my Skye Munro’s, and boy was I pleased at the time!

The Covid year hit us all hard with travelling and bagging suspended, But we managed a camping trip to do the Loch Ossian three after the madness had ended. By Twenty Twenty Two I had thirteen to go, with my final Munro all planned, But a broken ankle and dramatic rescue meant that plan was now canned.

Nine months later and back to full fitness I needed to step up a gear, My second attempt at a final Munro was now planned for my sixtieth year. I finished my twenty year journey on Seana Bhraigh, the last hill on my ticklist. I now proudly join many others in SMHC as a worthy Munro Compleatist.

I’d like to end by saying “Thank You” to all those I’ve hiked with, it’s been incredibly challenging and fun.
I’m looking forward to all the hills that come next, but a round of Corbetts just won’t be done.

Thanks to one and all, Karen x