My last blog anticipated joining running friend Cammie on an epic trail (Introduction– Hebridean Way Adventure). Following the entire length of the Outer Hebrides it had been several months in the planning. Alas, the best laid plans…

In the run up to this long anticipated trip I joined mid-May with a men’s hill walking group. I had enjoyed this annual spring event several times previously and was looking forward to it. The camaraderie of one week walking daily in the mountains of Wester Ross (far north west Scotland) would be hard to beat. Maintaining fitness it was an ideal complement to training for doing the Outer Hebrides a week afterwards. Or so I thought. There were 16 of us in total, ranging in ages from 30s-70s. Typically each day we would split up into 3 or 4 self selected groups. Each party doing a daily variety of mountains. Then gather back together in the evenings to recount the day’s adventures.

Our accommodation was self catering. Each evening 3 of us were on a rota to do the meal. Cooking is not my strong point(!). I was a bit nervous this year as I had graduated from starters and desserts to doing main course. My wife saved the day as she pre-cooked the meal for 16 hungry men. All I had to do was defrost and heat up, whew! I digress. 

A big and eventful first day in the hills!

Our sub group for the first day consisted of Len, Adrian, Jim and I. The plan for the day was to do 2 munroes. A Munro is a Scottish name for mountains over 3,000 feet (914m). Beinn Dearg and Cona Mheall lay east of loch Droma where we had parked. We left the car and set off from the roadside a little after 9 am. Weather was good and by afternoon it had even cleared on the tops. Wester Ross to my mind is big sky country. On a clear day it is a joy to traverse untamed moors and hills. The expanse of God’s creation is like balm to the soul. In a group each can be in their own thoughts yet also very aware of each other’s presence.

It was quite a long trek over moorland before we reached the slopes of Beinn Dearg. On the ascent it got steeper the higher we went. This caused me to have a bit of vertigo. Although I love running and walking in the mountains I am no climber. Best to not attempt anything too steep as I can get dizzy. Most of the time there is no problem as would always avoid vertigo inducing routes. 

Eventually we got to the top of Beinn Dearg where it was flat topped! There was a couple there whom we also met later on the summit of the second peak. Had our lunch at the cairn before moving on to Cona Mheall. The descent to the saddle between the peaks was dramatic and memorable. Not just for the views. There was also a huge dry stone dyke wall down the side of the mountainside. This is a poignant reminder of the harsh life highlanders endured in the past. It was built in the 1840s during the potato famine by starving crofters for food from the landlord. The strength involved in manually carrying and erecting huge stones up the steep side of a mountain is hard to comprehend.

Once Cona Mheall had been summitted we had some debate as to how to come off. In a change of plan we took the consequential decision to descend a different route from the one originally planned. This was further adjusted as I decided we should take what looked like a ‘short cut’ route. This turned out to be unwise. As we descended the rocky slabs the terrain was getting steeper and couldn’t see our way to the valley floor we were aiming for. Our group became divided into two pairs, descending in parallel about 50m apart. I was with Adrian. We came to a point where I was again getting vertigo. Eventually reached a very steep, long slope of rock. My heart sank. It either meant going back up or trying to gently slide down to safer ground. Due to my dizziness, going back up didn’t seem an option. I decided on sliding down, hoping to descend in 2 stages. After a quick prayer I proceeded to slide on my back with rucksack on. I lost control and slid several metres desperately trying to stop. Eventually stopped with the aid of my rucksack. The details of these few seconds are a blur. Miraculously my head was untouched but immediately noticed that a finger was waving as if it wasn’t part of me. Rest of body seemed ok apart from scratches and cuts on both arms and legs. 

Alarmed Adrian began shouting after me for a response. He had witnessed what had happened whereas my recollection of the actual incident is vague. I assured him and the others that I was ‘ok’. So easily it could have been worse. 

Though shaken I was still able to move and rejoined Jim and Len. Adrian had climbed back up and came down another, likely safer, way. Jim patched me up. Particularly my right leg which had some deep gashes. Not only had he a very well equipped first aid kit but as a retired doctor he was experienced. A panic when I realised that the rapidly swelling broken finger was my ring finger. There followed an agonising few minutes until Jim managed to remove the ring. I was deeply thankful. It reminded me of another accident to the same finger years ago. Then the ring had to be cut with pliers. A painful memory.

We then all continued on what had now become a gentler descent. After a few minutes I suddenly realised my phone was gone. My companions valiantly went back up to search but to no avail. None of us had had any signal so device couldn’t be located by calling. Everywhere there were large slabs of featureless rock. It had likely fallen between rocks in what was for us a dangerous area. In the fall my inside pocket containing the phone had sheared off. This was insult to injury. In the ensuing days it was a real hassle to get a new phone and recover data etc. However the fact I had no head injury or major bones broken was cause for real gratitude. Of so much more import than a phone. Things can be replaced. In retrospect the two vicious looking tears in my trousers makes me think that the phone perhaps protected me from a bad blow to my leg.

Having no phone for several days initially felt like being a social leper. However it gave undistracted time to watch the rest of the world looking at slabs of metal and glass. Out of touch and unreachable the experience felt strangely freeing. At least for a while. Experiencing life as it used to be 20+ years ago. One starts to wonder how we met up with people when not having constant status or location updates! Yet again I digress.

With my nursing a painful and swollen hand we carried on for the long trek back to the car. One concern was we were running very late. With no signal we could not call anyone to say we were OK.  Once again we split into two pairs; Jim and I going ahead to try and get a signal. Finally Jim got a message out. Ironically this was only to find that others were also late and not yet back at the lodge we were staying at! Eventually the four of us regrouped in the waning sunlight for the last stretch back to the car. It had been about 12.5 hours since we had left it. 

The upshot of this story is that my walking week was curtailed to that one day. After A & E (accident and emergency) visits and subsequent medical care I cannot use my dominant hand for several weeks. No writing or driving. I did not end up doing the Hebridean Way. Cammie who invited me to join him did it on his own. I did, however, manage to make a short visit to the Isle of Lewis and see him finish.

In one sense I hesitate offering this detailed explanation for a change of plan. However one of the subtitles of my blog is ‘life’. Sometimes life is unpredictable. 

Is there anything I/we should have done differently that day? Maybe, maybe not. Any lessons to be learnt? Very likely.

Photos taken are thanks to my walking companions that day in May. Those I took reside in a now forlorn and forgotten phone.

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