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Please email any more extended reports
on past Lomond 'adventures' to Alan at
alanwgraham@aol.com for
uploading. Please send the report on an attached word file.
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Click on the links below to
see the full reports
Pyrenees trip September 2009
Gordon and I snoozed through most of our long drive from Carcassone to Gavernie relying on Laurie to get us there safely. We resisted the
trinkets and holy waters of Lourdes and arrived at our campsite above the village only to
discover it was going to close the next day and the village was more or less
closed for the season. To add to our woes our long imagined sun baked mountains were
shrouded in Scottish looking mist with glimpses of fresh snow down to about
2000m. There was some daylight left so Laurie suggested a quick jog into the
cirque in seek of the ‘wow factor’. What we could see looked pretty impressive -
maybe a mini-wow! -
and there was the promise of better weather to come.
The next morning the mountains were again shrouded
in mist so we opted for the easy peak of Pimene (2801m) which gave us a 5000’
climb up good tracks with a damp lunch at the Refuge Des Espuguettes. The top
gave us a short rocky scramble but we could only imagine the promised views.
The following day we moved down to a good campsite
below Gavernie (Pain de Sucre). When the weather started to improve we set off
in the car up the Vallee D’Ossoue towards Vignemal and discovered we could drive
up to just below the Barrage. On the way we turned a corner to discover around
30 vultures devouring a dead cow just below the road - an incredible sight but
don't fall by the wayside here! Now
the sun was out and we were all feeling a bit more enthusiastic. This is a
beautiful valley which eventually climbs steeply up to a col overlooking the
spectacular north face of Vignemal. On the way we had to circumvent some old
hard snow patches and discovered some of the grottos built by the eccentric
Count Henry Russell. We reached the snow below the Refuge Bayssellance from
where a climb of a few hundred feet took us to the col. There was no doubt about
the wow factor here - the north face of Vignemal is one of the great sights of
the Pyrenees.
Our plan for the next two days was ambitious – a
two day trek over to Spain and back.
We started by taking the scrambling route up the right hand
side of the cirque giving us stunning views of the highest waterfall in Europe.
Above the hut we ventured tentatively onto the steep snow slope leading up to
the Breche de Roland. To save weight we had decided to leave our axes and
crampons but the ladder of old steps gave us enough purchase. Step though the
Breche and you’re in Spain and it was literally a step from cloud and snow into
dry rock and sun. A delightful walk took us down steep rocky slopes, limestone
pavements and gravel flats, past waterfalls and to the edge of the Ordessa
canyon. On the way we only just survived a clamber down a rocky step with a few tricky moves.
We were expecting a path into the canyon but
instead we were faced with a via ferrata disappearing round the corner of a
vertical crag. We set off in faith, hanging on to the wire and soon a vertical
gully took us down to the path. After a descent of a few thousand feet we
arrived at the bottom of the canyon at 1400m – reputed to be the biggest in
Europe. This is where it got tough – we now had to climb out of the canyon up to
the Goriz hut at 2200m. The varied scenery took our minds off the task – forest
at first with glimpses of the crags, a succession of waterfalls and then an open
area above the tree line. To escape the canyon we dragged ourselves up a chain
festooned crag from which another couple of km along an easy path led us to the
hut. Relieved to have arrived after 9 and a half hours we relaxed before tucking
in to a superb meal.
We were almost last away in the morning but we were
soon zipping past other parties on the climb up to the wee Laco Helado at the
foot of Monte Perdido. The gully was full of hard snow and we weren’t too sure
about risking it. There were plenty of steps in the snow so we decided to set
off and give it a go. A slip would have been serious to say the least but we
made it to the summit (3365m) where the views definitely had the wow factor.
Laurie attracted plenty of looks and a few choice comments (Spanish for mad?)
for his attire of shorts and fell shoes.
We made it down safely and chatted to an Irish
party at the Lake. It was still a long way back so we descended to the hut to
retrieve our gear and the set off on the rising traverse back to the Breche.
This bit was full of interest with grassy traverses, more limestone scenery and
some rough spectacular scenery with yet more chains closer to the Breche.
The descent down to the hut was surprisingly tricky
in the hard snow and then we took the alternative descent over the col and down
into the Vallee de Pouey Aspey – very similar to the Ben race descent with
steep screes and a ‘green wall’. Now we know why the Spanish lads did so well!
Eventually Gavernie appeared - glad to get back! Bloody sore feet!
We took a well deserved rest day after four days
of 5000’, 4000’, 8000’, and 7000’ over very rough terrain with morning shopping
and cafés in Luz de Saveur and then a gentle stroll along the Lac des
Gloriettes in the afternoon. Gordie had been helping us resist the temptations
of the 2 euro bottles of plonk but then produced a big plastic bottle of gutrot
at half the price. "You want cheap - I'll give you cheap!"
On our last day we drove over the famed Tourmalet
and ran from the summit (2200m) up to the observatory on the top of Pic Du Midi
Du Bigorre (2800m) where we enjoyed spectacular views over a lifetimes worth of
mountains.
Last years trip to the Verdon had been had to beat
but the general consensus was that we had at least matched it this year.
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Slovenia July 2009
I'm just back from two great days sampling the
delights of the Julian Alps and would thoroughly recommend the area for a
running holiday.
The first turned out to be an epic of nearly 11
hours racing back to beat nightfall and the ignominy of a Slovenian friend
calling for rescue. I started at the road end beyond lake Bohinj and belted up
the never ending zig-zags through the forest for 3000' taking about 1hr30 for
the recommended 2hr30 stage. Another 1hr30 took me through a veritable garden of
alpine flowers to the hut where I filled my water bottles (no streams at all up
here in the limestone). The next section up past the seven lakes with big crags,
snow patches and more flowers was superb. A stiff little climb up to the
confusing plateaux of Hibarice and then a tiring scramble up snow patches (dicy
in walshes) and awkward scree (stick to the decent rock where you can) led me to
the summit of Kanjavec (2500m) in 6hours. It was much further back than I
estimated (I discovered two extra folds of the map!) with lots of stops to
consult the map to avoid benightment.
After a few days to recover I teamed up with a
Slovenian friend called Mario to climb Prisojnik (2500m) from the Vrsic pass
(1600m). This was a much easier day up a much more serious mountain with no easy
ways up. It all looks a bit improbable with huge crags seeming to guard every
way up but the red paint leads you up little walls with rungs and cables, round
narrow ledges and all you need is a head for heights and a lot of faith. I think
we lost the Slovenian route on the way up and took in an extra bit of the ridge
but the ridge down (similar to Aonach Eagach) past the spectacular window was
superb.
Alan Graham
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West Highland Way Race 2009
Ever since reading Tolkein’s story for children
"The Hobbit" I’ve been fascinated by journeys and have completed some myself in
the past including cycling across the United States and walking England’s
Pennine Way. So when I moved to Scotland in 1999 the West Highland Way noted as
a possibility. I was aware of the race at that time and with a growing
involvement in Ironman triathlon I started to wonder about doing the race.
Getting the entry forms in 2003 I decided that I did not have enough experience
to pass the vetting to get into the race and the idea was shelved. After a move
to Fife my interest in triathlon waned as I discovered the Scottish hills and
picked up the threads of some hill running from my younger days joining the
Lomond Hill Runners in early 2007.
In 2007 I failed in my first attempt to complete
the Tranter Round, but returned in 2008 to complete a solo round in 21 hours: I
now felt I could convince the West Highland Way Race organisers to give me an
entry.
So it was with great excitement tinged with
apprehension that I lined up at Milngavie on 20 June 2009. On the surface there
was a feeling of carnival but underneath there was a tension amongst runners and
crews. No more time for preparation because at 1:00 AM we were off.
To tell the truth I don’t remember a great deal
about the race, just scenes as if from a dream.
Just after Easter Carbeth Loch I looked back
along the path to see a weaving serpent of bobbing headlamps stabbing at the
darkness as runners began the long journey north. Slightly later there was the
surreal experience of quiet clapping and cheering at Dumgoyne where I met my
support crew for the first time for a rapid Camelbak change and cup of coffee.
Through Garadhban Forest we encountered the
first of the winged squadrons of carnivores that plague the traveller in
Scotland. There was a brief respite from their bites on the ascent and descent
of Conic Hill but in the wood above Balmaha they waited in a holding pattern at
the gate for the fresh well oxygenated blood of runners and I pity the walker
who had pitched his tiny one man tent right next to the path only to be woken in
the very early hours by the tramp of feet.
Balmaha. A seat. And a bowl Frosties to put the
Tiger back in me. "They’re great". I wouldn’t say that about the midges.
The first feelings of discomfort began shortly
after leaving Balmaha, first tightness in the abdomen, followed by reflex
salivation and rapid swallowing more associated with 10 pints of Guinness and a
take away. I struggled on keeping pace with a couple of other runners until I
decided that easiest way to stop feeling sick was be sick. Nothing came out
except a huge BURP, but I felt better, catching and overtaking the runners I had
followed.
Rowardennan. One marathon done and still only
6:30 in the morning. Pasta. Change of socks and shirt and set off on the long
leg some 19 miles to Carmyle cottage trying to the make the most of the long
down hills on this section. At Inversnaid I congratulated myself having made a
third of the distance and opened my drop bag; unable to face the pork pie I
drank the bottle of juice and took the fruit slice consuming it slowly over the
next hour.
I was relieved to reach Bein Glas Farm and after
a brief stop to swig some water headed on to my rendezvous at Carmyle cottage.
Unsure of the parking there or whether my crew had received my text messages I
could only hope that they were there. I was relieved to see the grizzled
features of Uncle Alan peering down from the road and Sue and Doug at the car. I
got rid of my tracky bottoms drank coffee and ate salt and vinegar crisps,
taking the remainder of the crisps on the climb out of Carmyle.
The miles to Auchtertyre are tougher than you
think; lots of up and down behind Crianlarich. My son ran out from Auchtertyre
to meet me on the track in. At Auchtertyre it transpired I had already lost more
than the allowed 4% of my body weight, but I explained I think I had been
weighed with a fleece and the marshal let it pass. After a full pit stop;
changing all my clothes I headed off again stiff as hell. I don’t remember
stopping for long to get that stiff.
I hate the section through the medial moraines
from Auchtertyre to Crianlarich, and was pleased to see my son Doug at the
railway station to run in with me to the road crossing where Alan was waiting to
begin the leg to Bridge of Orchy with me. This didn’t seem to go to bad and it
was nice to run with somebody.
Adrian Davis, a previous winner and "Lomie" had
pulled out at Carmyle cottage with a damaged knee and his team were there at
Bridge of Orchy to meet me. It was here I teamed up with Donald my second
support runner and Kenny who had been with Adrian’s crew for the crossing of
Rannoch Moor.
I like the crossing of Rannoch Moor having done
the out and back from Bridge of Orchy to Kingshouse twice in training in both
the worst and the best of conditions, but something had gone wrong. By now
whenever I ate I felt not just nauseous but positively ill and the urine
coloured "home brewed" drink I had used for all my training had begun to taste
as it looked. Donald and Kenny patiently waited for me to drag myself over the
hill to Victoria Bridge with a good stop for vomiting black gunge. (I didn’t eat
anything that looked like that). The crew were waiting for me but I didn’t Kenny
catching us up with a cup of soup that I ate most of as me made the long climb
up to Rannoch Moor where I was promptly sick, bringing things up in layers:
first the soup (it tasted quite good on the way up), followed by black gunge (I
still don’t remember eating this) followed by pasta.
This was the lowest point of the whole day; a
voice inside my head commanded that I give up and that this whole race was a
silly idea. But a quieter voice came through reminding of all the training and
when I had felt ill on my own on the Tranter and survived the last 8 hours or so
on chocolate and water.
When we spied the Kingshouse and Kenny reminded
me that it sat at 72 miles I realised I had no more than a marathon to go and I
knew I could make it.
At Kingshouse I think my non-running team saw me
at my lowest ebb physically but inside I had come through the real battle. And
as Sue attempted to teach my next pair of helpers (Laurie and Derek) the details
of diabetes management I internally measured my effort against the remaining
miles and ate half a cup of soup.
There is no denying I found the Devil’s
Staircase hard. And I’m not ashamed to admit to sitting down for a 5 minute
rest, but fuelled on water and chocolate from the insistent Derek and Laurie and
entertained by the endless banter I almost raced down into Kinlochleven. Where
they ensured I was weighed with my Camelbak on to make the weigh in.
Fuelled with half a cup of soup and a few
mouthfuls of coffee I set off again accompanied by Alan and Kenny on the lonely,
never ending road to Lundavra. I remember nothing except just moving as fast as
my tired legs would let me.
At Lundavra Donald and my son Doug joined me.
The sub 24 was still on. However, when I explored the last section of the route
I ran from Glen Nevis most of the way out to Lundavra, some how just turning
around before I found out that it is essentially a rolling climb out of Lundavra.
Somehow, I just wasn’t prepared for that long rolling climb out of Lundavra and
I slowly worked my way down the gears to the crawler gear.
Once I the familiar ground I had explored I felt
as if the pace picked up and I even predicted where we came out of the forest
onto the track but the damage was done, it was 00:55, 23:55 hours since leaving
Milngavie.
I ran as much as I could down the track but the
legs were sore and on the road all I could manage was a fast walk, but I could
feel the emotion coming. Somewhere near the corner where the leisure centre
comes into sight all the pain went away and I ran. Donald and Kenny held back,
Doug my son coming with me. Then I was in the leisure centre just relieved that
it was all over.
I was given a cup of tea as I slowly came back
from the internal place I had been since Rannoch Moor. Within five minutes the
tea came back, with more black stuff (I STILL DON’T REMEMBER EATING ANYTHING
THAT LOOKED REMOTELY LIKE THAT!).
I would never have made it without the care and
attention of the support team that came all the way my wife Sue, son Doug and
Alan from the Lomond Hill Runners and the cast of thousands who helped out from
Bridge of Orchy onwards (in order of appearance) Donald, Kenny, Derek and
Laurie.
No camels or tigers were harmed in this
production but thousands of midges died.
Andy Caulkett
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Knoydart Training
Weekend April 17th -19th 2009
One of the best! We assembled at Mallaig on the Friday night with
the advance party stopping for a trot up Rois Bheinn while David and Pat tore
into dodgy haggis suppers and guinness in Mallaig. After a whiz in the speedboat
across to Inverie we set off in brilliant sunshine for a run along the Ladhar
Bheinn ridge with the fitter members taking in an extra Corbett or two. A great
night ensued back at Inverie with top class grub, wine, women (Lucy!) and song.
David spent the night ruing the haggis but the rest of us slept soundly to wake
to blue skies again. Back up the Barrisdale track again to the Meall
Bhuidhe - Luinne Bheinn ridge and an unforgettable day of superb running and
views. Back down at the col Andy and Donald still had the energy to run down to
Barrisdale for a bag of mussels.
After another night of carousing in Inverie, an easy stroll along the village
with a visit to the coffee shop and a brilliant cruise back via Tarbet rounded
off an unforgettable weekend.
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Below the Ladhar Bheinn ridge
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Drinks back
at Inverie
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Alan above
Loch Hourn
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Laurie falls off
Meall Bhuidhe!
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Beauty and
the beast!
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Cooling off after
a long hot day
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Hot-tubbing
Winter 2009
Tabloid reporters have been spotted lurking about Scotlandwell following
rumours that 9 naked men have been seen hot-tubbing. Reports that a dog is
involved have been denied.
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Fife coast pub run
- Jan 2009
This years annual pub run took us from South Queensferry across the Forth bridge
where we had the misfortune to arrive before opening time. After lively debate
Gordie persuaded us to go unquenched but we enjoyed a superb run and some great
pubs and pints on the way to the Annapurna in Kirkcaldy. Thanks
again to John Donnelly for report and Photos. Click below.
www.jdswanderings.blogspot.com/2009/01/lomond-hillrunners-pub-run.html
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The 21st Birthday
Bash 6th December 2008
Twenty one years ago Shug McGinley and Willie Pugh formed a wee breakaway
from Fife AC which they called Lomond Hillrunners. Little could they have
guessed that 21 years later the club would still be thriving and gathering
to celebrate the occasion. In the months leading up to the party many of the old
members were tracked down and many were able to come along to relive old
memories and meet old friends.
The evening sped past in a bit of a blur - a display of old photos, ceilidh
dancing, speeches by Shug, Alan and Andy and a superb buffet. Unfortunately
Lomonds reputation suffered a severe dunt when we only managed to consume a
small fraction of the hundreds of cans of guinness that some of the more
enthusiastic members estimated we could consume! (not mentioning any names
Derek) Nevertheless a great time was had by all.
Alan Graham
Click on the photos below to enlarge (Thanks to Ron Russell)
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The Canal pub run
January 2008
A motley collection of hungover LOMIES arrived at the final watering hole
at the Edinburgh end of the Union canal having swum/staggered/jogged the approx
20 miles from Linlithgow and having ascending the odd bing on the way. Photos
and story by John Donnelly. Click on link below
http://jdswanderings.blogspot.com/2008/01/linlithgow-to-edinburgh-canal-and-pub.html
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The Verdon gorge trip
Sept 2008
Excitement mounted as the four of us ( Alan, Gordie, Laurie and Derek) drove
north in our chunky Renault Kangoo towards the pretty mountain village of
Moustier at the western end of the Verdon gorge. We had arrived the night before
on a late Ryanair flight to Marseilles and enjoyed a late-evening stroll and
beers in the beautiful and crowded centre of Aix-en-Provence before driving to a
local Formule-1.
After lunch in Moustier we decided on a short afternoon exploratory run
down into the western end of the Verdon gorge – just enough to whet our
appetites for the spectacular scenery further in. That night we camped in the
village of La Palud sur Verdon which was strategically placed a few km north of
the gorge.
The next morning, after lengthy and heated debate (expertly stirred by
Derek!) we drove along to the east end of the gorge at Point Sublime. You park
well above the gorge, take in the spectacular views then descend to the river to
embark on the spectacular sentier Martel which traverses the north side of the
river. We soon entered the first of several tunnels which bypass some of the
impassible sections but which we later learned had been condemned. The scenery
is spectacular and varied with huge vertical crags, ledges, scree slopes,
vegetation and small pebbly beaches. Eventually we arrived at a section with
massive ladders which surmount the neck of a great loop in the river. A
diversion took us out to the end of the loop where we lunched on rocky ledges
overlooking the confluence between the Verdon and Artuby river. A further
interesting section along the north side took us past some interesting caves and
a useful footbridge until a steep climb of 300m took us out of the gorge to an
inn where Gordy immediately fell asleep while Laurie, Derek and I enjoyed a
beer. Rather than a long slog along the road back to the village we had spotted
a path cutting directly over the hill. It was very pretty but just at the summit
we discovered a badly injured deer leaping about in a very distressed way. Derek
stepped up to the mark and put the creature out of it’s misery with a couple of
well aimed boulders. We later joked that it wouldn’t be wise for any of the
Lomies to sustain an injury with Derek around. Gordon kindly agreed to jog back
to collect the car.
The next day we opted for a change of scenery and headed into the hills
north of the village. After parking a short jog took us up to a fascinating
deserted village. We then followed a good track along the line of a Roman road
which brought us to a wee village and then onto pathless slopes of scrub full of
the scents of ‘herbs de provence’. Further up the slope steepened and tricky
scree runs led though a break in the lines of limestone crags. We had arrived in
a different world – an open plateaux with rolling grassy hills – very Scottish!
It was good to get running again and a pleasant jog took us to the highest top
in the area, Grand Mure at 1930m. We ran back to a second top for lunch and then
returned via another short ridge which led us through a vast flock of very
sturdy sheep. An interesting route through some interesting limestone rock
formations, down another slope of scrub and herbs and then a forest road led us
eventually to the car.
Our evenings passed very pleasantly with a post run beer followed by wine
and beers to wash down our supper and then another visit to the local hostelry.
The following day we met late arrival Brian back in Moustier and after
lunch we drove round the spectacular south rim of the canyon. We parked near
the hotel on the south rim and an improbable path wriggled its way down the
vertical cliff. The path headed east along the gorge with interest at every
turn, big caves, ledges cut out of the rock perched above the river, little
beaches until we reached a big chaos of boulders blocking the gorge. We all
agreed it had been one of our best days ever. That night we enjoyed a few local
bands playing in the village - they were so good that Laurie and Gordon suddenly
sprang to life and showed us some fancy dance moves.
The next morning we decamped and set off in the cars north to Allos and then
up the steep road towards Lac d’Allos in the Parc de Mercantour. The small round
lake is situated perfectly amongst scattered pines and surrounded by a steep
craggy peaks. A delectable path led us into the fresh snows and then up into
the clouds to the 3000m summit of Mont Pelat. We were slightly anxious at the
sight of 7 giant griffon vultures circling the path but Laurie stripped off and
ran about in the snow to confuse them. It seemed to work! That evening we
enjoyed a fine meal in the old fortified town of Colmar. Later there was much
hilarity when Laurie and Gordon both leapt up from one side of the bench and
table set which immediately upended over Alan and buried him under a table full
of beer and wine bottles.
We didn’t really know what to do the next day but I think it was Gordon who
spotted a path marked on our road map leading up the next valley. It turned out
to be the superb Gorge de St Pierre where a narrow path hacked into the vertical
crags took us up to the forest. Not having a proper map we took a wrong turning
but it didn’t really matter and we eventually broke out of the trees. We found
plenty of evidence of boars in the forest but no sign of the beasts. A steep
scramble up screes and broken rocks led us up to a minor summit on the ridge
where we lunched and enjoyed the views.
We decided to drive back towards Aix to camp that evening but ended up
driving around in the dark looking for a campsite and getting lost before ending
up back at the Formule-1. The next morning we had a few hours to spare before
the flight which were spent very enjoyably having a dip in the Med (just Alan)
and then a superb plate of mussels and frites washed down by a beer. A fine end
to hopefully the first of many Lomond trips to foreign fields.
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