Rain

Croagh Patrick - Ireland's 'Holy Mountain'

Croagh Patrick is billed as "Ireland's Holy Mountain", as its' summit is the setting for the legend of St Patrick casting all the snakes from Ireland. It is also the scene of some of the most unholy footpath erosion in the Western World. The great hill-engineers of Scotland's Cairngorm National Park should be seconded to Ireland for a month or two to sort this out, before the whole thing turns into a hideous channel of mud and scree! Or - perhaps if Patrick could be persuaded to make a comeback he could cast all the scree out, and leave walkers with a navigable surface!

Apparently, for Roman Catholics, Croagh Patrick is not just a hillwalk, but also a site of pilgrimage which explains the various shrines dotting the ascent route, and the toilet block halfway up! Very keen Catholics, who believe that acts of contrition contribute to God's willingness to forgive sin are known to climb the hill barefoot to facilitate this. We didn't know about this when we climbed Croagh Patrick, and so when we spotted a barefoot pilgrim working his way up the hill, my younger son called out, "Hobbit!!!", much to the amusement of the pilgrim's two suitably-shoe'd companions.

The views from the top should have been magnificent, but sadly we were offered little more than thick cloud, and a gentle soaking of Irish Rain. 

At Cong

On Bertra Beach

Stone Haggis!

Book Notes: Waiting 'til The Midnight Hour - A Narrative History of Black Power in America by Peniel E. Joseph

At the risk of over-simplification, the 20th Century movement demanding equality for African-American people had two main focal points, "Civil Rights" and "Black Power". While the former has gained widespread acceptance in mainstream society, and its' leaders are considered to be heroes, the latter remains consistently more contentious. As a result the development of this important movement has resulted in fewer books, and films, magazine articles and its' role, development, struggles, triumphs, failures and characters remain less well-known than their Civil Rights equivalents. Peniel E. Joseph's, Waiting 'Til The Midnight Hour - A Narrative History of Black Power in America makes a significant contribution to the telling of the battle for equality by describing in detail the too-often-forgotten story of "Black Power".

In just over 300 pages of riveting, and meticulously researched narrative, Peniel Joseph sketches the roots, development, key players, main events, organisations and characters of the radical end of the Black struggle. The opening chapters focus on the roots of the movement, in which the radicalising influences that made many activists abandon non-violence firstly as a creed, and finally as a tactic, are traced. One of the strengths of the book is that he nicely explores the inter-relationships between the Southern struggle against Jim Crow, with the building fury in the Northern ghettos of LA, Detroit, Newark and Philadelphia - which are often studied in isolation from one another.

The book tells the stories of countless activists, organisers, theorists, agitators, and revolutionaries in many locations, but there are three who dominate the narrative; Malcolm X, Stokely Carmichael, and Huey P. Newton. Malcolm is described here as a pivotal character in voicing and organising the radical alternative to Civil-Rights, and his career is traced in detail. Carmichael's rise from a voting registration worker in Mississippi, through his tempestuous tenure as chairman of SNCC, to becoming first the voice of Black Power, and then his various revolutionary ideological shifts towards African-ism is very well told. The final chapters deal with the outright military revolutionary struggles associated with Newton, Cleaver and the Black Panthers. The collapse of the Black Power movement is then traced, before demonstrating that while the 70s killed it as a movement; its cultural, social and political influence remains potent - symbolised most visibly by use of the correct racial terminology, African-American.

Although billed as a 'narrative history', and concerned with relaying the story of the movement, Joseph's analysis and personal sympathies are apparent. It is clear that in his view King's pursuit of the Beloved Community through righteous non-violence was an appeal to a conscience that white America simply didn't have. This week we learnt that even Atticus Finch turned out to be a filthy racist in the end - something which Civil Rights activists would have deplored but Black Power fighters would suggest is simply realistic. The essence of the difference between the two movements is brought into stark contrast -one sought to manoeuvre America into allowing Black people to fully participate in its life. The other saw American life as irredeemably corrupt and racist, and so instead sought to seize justice by whatever means necessary. If Peniel is occasionally too uncritical of his three central protagonists, he is consistent in his presentations of the critiques of Martin Luther King Jr, and all he represented. The politeness he generally reserves for King himself, he certainly does not for Kings followers and successors! In so doing he sometimes seems to present the two strands of the struggle as more diametrically opposed than was perhaps always the case - neither giving enough credence to the ongoing radicalisation of King's last year, or to more moderate voices within the radical camp. These flows are hinted at in the book, but it would have been interesting to read more about these relationships.

One especially fascinating aspect of Waiting Till The Midnight Hour, is Joseph's chronicle of the ideological developments in radical African-American circles in the 1960s. Following on from Clayborne Carson's definitive history of SNCC, Peniel Joseph shows that while radical protesters rapidly rejected the conciliatory Christian-Ghandianism which had characterised the great Southern showdowns from Montgomery to Birmingham to Selma; they had no clear ideological map in front of them and underwent incredibly rapid changes in world-views. The time-frame in which SNCC changed from a multi-racial Civil Rights organisation to a Black-only Black Powerhouse, was incredibly tight. As such, while rejection of the Jim Crow South and the Ghetto-ised North united them against defined targets, and rejection of pacifism united them tactically; ideologically the Black Power movement fragmented into all manner of different directions and emphases. Joseph's work tracking these developments, influences and key players is meticulous and superb. He shows how the different ideological trajectories which at their heart place either race or class at the foundational issue led different strands either towards Pan-Africanism on one hand or Marxism on the other as ideological underpinnings for their revolutionary intent.

 "Black Power" remains a controversial and complex phenomenon in African American history, and the pursuit of racial justice. Understanding it, and tracing why it evolved as it did, is an essential element in understanding so much of contemporary America. Peniel E. Joseph's, Waiting 'Til Midnight Hour, is an excellent place to go to do just that.

Book Notes: The Forgotten Ways by Alan Hirsch

"Ouch!" - Reading Alan Hirsch's "The Forgotten Ways" was an uncomfortable experience. This is a rich and thought-provoking book which should be widely read by Christians in 'the West', because it so provocatively, and profoundly analyses the church of which we are a part. It hardly needs to be reiterated that we live in one of the few times and places in which the church of Christ is shrinking, (collapsing), and looks completely unable to handle the challenges it faces. Hirsch's book is about why that is the case, and where we should start to look for answers to this crisis.

Central to Hirsch's critique are a series of comparisons he draws between the first Christian churches of the New Testament (and immediate post-NT era) and the contemporary Chinese underground churches on one hand; and the Western church on the other. The  comparisons - in which we do not come out favourably (!) are not simply growth-related either, as The Forgotten Ways is not merely about the quantity of disciples of Jesus but about the quality of our discipleship! In Hirsch's view, while we have become used to the settled, 'safe' and 'institutionalised' church; the Early and Chinese churches were apostolic people-movements. As such, they are hard-wired to grow and flourish, while were are almost structured to stagnate.

The canvas onto which Hirsch paints the many fine details of his argument is of the historical shift out of modernism, which has rendered our Constantinian ecclesiological heritage not just irrelevant but positively harmful. Specifically he argues that it was Constantine's endorsement of the Christian faith which lead the way to the stultifying institutionalism which subsequently crippled us. While Christianity held the cultural hegemony, or even just centrality, the churches were able to attract or compel worshippers to participate. This Constantinian shift meant that an elevated priesthood emerged, along with formalised training, structures, offices, roles, and of course special buildings. Christianity was no longer a people-movement, but an organisation dispensing spiritual goods, he argues. This prevailing mindset has meant that in the post-Christendom era, the church has primarily responded to the challenges of secularism, materialism, pluralism and the 'de-christianising' of society by seeking to re-vamp its' existing model in order to compete more effectively in the cultural market-place. Some of Hirsch's most robust critiques are reserved for the 'church-growth-movement', whose programmes, consultants and seeker-friendly presentations he sees as well-intentioned but ultimately disastrous responses to the situation. He pointedly describes the so-called mega-churches as making church feel like a shopping mall; not presenting a Christian alternative to it. Critical to all this is Hirsch's contention (which he argues at length) that if the church is stuck in a Constantian-Christendom mindset it will be fatally wedded to an 'attractional' view of outreach. The evidence presented in this book suggests that this is a largely unproductive approach, as for all but a very tiny group of people on the periphery of the Christian community, they will never be attracted to the institutional church no matter how good its programmes are.

In one stunning passage Hirsch goes as far as saying that the excellence of what is presented in so many church services is actually a problem for the growth of real disciples and reaching new folks for Christ! His reasoning is as follows: Firstly highly professionalised services create a culture of dependency on the institution for the provision of religious goods and services, provided in ever larger venues. This is the opposite of the outward-flow of the New Testament house-churches in which everyone was a participant as there were no religious-professionals running the show. 

Secondly, while 'seeker-friendly' approaches make the services of an impossible standard to replicate (I know of one church who require Grade 8 minimum in music before gaining an audition to the worship-band); they also have made becoming a Christian far too easy! The early  (and Chinese) churches require  any new convert to be willing to give their lives for Christ as they are forged in persecution, and set the bar extremely high in discipleship terms - but have no fancy buildings, robes, musicians, inspirational speakers, or programmes. Instead they had Spirit-filled house churches, and one-to-one encounters which were easily and simply replicated.  So while the church as it should be is High-Discipleship and Easy-Replication; we have in our intoxication with dragging the attractional model out for another generation, reversed this and gone for Low-demand-Discipleship, and hard to replicate churches.

What was perhaps hardest for me to read was Hirsch's critique that as a church we have embraced a middle-class fascination with safety and stability in contrast the radical risk-taking adventures of the new testament churches. We don't just work the failing attractional model to death because we have dated theology, but because we feel safe in church where our ideas won't be challenged or ridiculed. I have to plead guilty on this score. Discussing and debating theology with other Christians is endlessly enjoyable and 'safe' whereas engaging the world is more difficult. Hirsch shows that historically it has been when the church has emerged from its inward-focused institutional-maintenance mindset that it has re-captured its divinely appointed purpose of making disciples of Jesus.    

Helpfully, Hirsch describes two ways in which this liberation of the church takes place. The first is the re-discovery of this Apostolic-genius through charismatic leadership. Hirsch is always careful to define the kinds of terms he uses in his books, and in this point he is talking not simply about leaders with human warmth or charm, nor about leaders identified with the "Charismatic Movement". Rather he is contrasting the type of Holy-Spirit inspired leaders of the New Testament (like Paul) and the contemporary Chinese apostolic leaders who spontaneously inspire a missionary movement around them; with the kind of  'appointed and employed office-bearer' with which we are familiar in the West. 

The second liberating factor is crisis. In Hirsch's experience, research and considered opinion, the church when facing all kinds of crises actually dispenses with all unnecessary embellishments and becomes an apostolic people-movement! These crises have occurred when persecutions have broken out, or when the church has voluntarily extracted itself from its' slumber and lived sacrificially for those outside the kingdom, including the poorest and most vulnerable. In Hirsch's vision for church life, this is about rejecting Christian cultural ghetto-isation, and embracing incarnational missionary living. The book records an amusing (but yet profound) conversation between someone who had been involved in the Western-led Chinese church prior to Mao's persecutions, and the expulsions of 1950; and someone recently returned from visiting the Chinese churches and observing their wildfire growth. The first person expressed sorrow that the Chinese had been robbed of their denominations, theologians and books, western missionaries, and leaders - and were left to survive with just the Holy Spirit. The second replied, "I'm pleased to report that the Holy Spirit is doing just fine!" 

There is much more that could be extracted from the book developing these lines of thought, but these snippets give enough of a flavour of Hirsch's perspective for the purposes of a short review. There are many books which claim to be a 'wake up call to the church', and many of these strike a belligerent or aggressive tone. This book however is a real 'wake-up call' - not to work harder or shout louder; but to re-imagine the church without the institutional baggage that anchors it in the past and weighs it down in the present. Instead, Hirsch calls us to re-embrace what he calls the Apostolic Genius of the grass-roots people movement, of Monotheistic Jesus followers, who love and serve this world as they fully participate in it, His critique of where we are in the Western Churches, is astute - and devastating. His suggestions about where we need to go are massively thought-provoking. The difficulty lies in one of Hirsch's closing sentences, (p244) where he rightly says, "For many of us this will feel like an almost impossible leap to get from where we now stand to even approximate the vitality of the Jesus movements we have studied." That perhaps is the only under-statement in the whole volume.

Munro Bragging

So, with my Munro chart looking quite healthy (219 climbed), I think for the first time I might actually do them all. Anyone want to join me?

Book Notes: My Soul Looks Back In Wonder (Voices of the Civil Rights Experience) by Juan Williams

Williams first came to my attention as the compiler of the Eyes on The Prize reader, a remarkable compilation of speeches and documents from the Civil Rights Movement. This volume has much in common with that previous compendium, in that it is a collection of evidence from that pivotal phase in American History. My Soul Looks Back in Wonder, contains thirty-three vignettes written in the first person by people whose lives were swept up in the Civil Rights struggle. Many are well-known names and faces, or relate to well-known stories from the period. These include James Lawson, B.B. King, and Carolyn Goodman, the mother of Andrew Goodman one of the three Civil Rights workers murdered in Mississippi in 1964.

These testimonies are all about how people woke up to the need to struggle for justice, understood injustice for the first time, or overcame their fear and joined the movement. They highlight important experiences of different aspect of what being in the movement was like, and come from Blacks, Whites, Hispanics, Jews, Asians, Rich, Poor, Northerners and Southerners alike, it covers activists, fundraisers, politicians, parents, marchers, freedom riders, . No two of the stories contained in the book are alike, but all cast a fascinating light into the broader picture of this much-discussed area.

The book is deliberately written at a non-academic level so that it is accessible to all. It would make an excellent school resource, as while the issues raised are important, the language is not complex. Indeed there are discussion questions at the back of the book as if this was the intent. Most of the testimonies recorded contain very little analysis of the movement (there is some), but dwell extensively on individual experiences with the wider history. These stories are moving, powerful and provide a wealth of great illustrations of how individuals away from the spotlight were affected by the Civil Rights protests.

The weaker part of the book is the introduction which over-simplifies matters to the extent that several quite complex matters are mishandled in the quest for obvious clarity. The most obvious example of this is when Williams handles the legacy of the movement - something which also governs his selection of some of the later testimonies too. In Williams' eyes there is a clear and uninterrupted line of continuity between the demand for equal rights, justice, equality and dignity for African-Americans and countless other cultural battles which have subsequently raged; to the point that he views them almost as the same struggle. Among these include the complexities of class conflict, environmental concerns, freedom from Soviet-bloc communism, gay rights and access to abortion. That many people who began their social involvement in SNCC voter registration drives (for example), and spent subsequent decades campaigning on these other issues is not in doubt. What I found unconvincing was the subsumation of all these issues into one whole when the clear-cut morality of ending American apartheid gave way to far more complex and nuanced issues over which not all Civil Rights activists would have agreed. Abortion is the obvious example. For Williams, this unbroken continuity runs from rights for Black Americans, to rights for American Women, to access to abortion. What he doesn't address is that for other people switched onto civil rights, their concern for 'full personhood' so long denied to African-Americans was transferred to American foetuses whose full personhood they wished to affirm and defend. Many of them took their inspiration from the Civil Rights movement, both in terms of philosophy and method, using non-violent protests, sit-ins and the like. So, the continuities he proposes as axiomatic, are in fact controversial at the very least.

However, this minor criticism affects only a small part of the book. The vast majority of its 220 pages is taken up with the straightforward telling of the battle against segregation. in schools, public spaces, on voter-lists, in the justice system, politics and in public transport. As such, this book is a very helpful, and personal, introduction to Civil Rights reading.

Midlake - It's Going Down

I love the tender melancholy of Midlake, Antiphon is a wonderful album - it drifts into Camel and BJH territory rather beautifully.

Book Notes: The 60s Unplugged - A Kaleidoscopic History of a Disorderly Decade by Gerard DeGroot

Gerard DeGroot's "Sixties Unplugged" is a fast-paced, lively account and shrewd analysis of key events that took place in the what he calls a "disorderly decade". The book consists of 67 stand-alone essays on subjects as diverse as Civil Rights, Biafra, Bob Dylan, Hippies, Free-Love, Ronald Reagan and the Student Protest Movement. Although weighted strongly towards a USA/European audience, world events such as the Six Day war, Mao's China, The Congo and Sharpeville in South Africa also feature. DeGroot's main thesis is that there is no one grand, narrative with which to interpret these diverse events. He is resistant to elaborate a single thesis and try and force all these divergent strands into a single interpretation of the decade, instead he wants to allow each of his subject areas to exist in its own right and bear the weight of his often searing scrutiny. 

If DeGroot is somewhat post-modern in his rejection of a meta-narrative, he is equally so when it comes to deconstructing his subjects. In "The Sixties Unplugged", DeGroot savages 60s nostalgia-fanatics who paint the decade as a revolutionary era of peace, love and the dawning of some new hope for humanity. He points out that such claims are misguided on several levels. Firstly they over-estimate the significance of the counter-culture in what was a fairly conservative decade. Only 10% of American universities had riots in the student protests of the late Sixties, he writes, and of those who did, less than 10% of their students were actually involved. The young Republican movements always attracted more members than the left-wing student groups such as the SDS. Furthermore, behind the Liberal rhetoric of Kennedy (and his golden image) was a hard-nosed Cold-war warrior. The outcome of the 60s was a dying hippie dream and the rise of Ronald Reagan; it had less to do with Maggie's Farm than Maggie Thatcher, he quips. This, in part, was because the counter-culture embraced drug-taking to the extent that they perceived themselves to be changing political realities, whereas in fact their brain chemistry was the main thing which was altered.

In his (very frank) discussion about the sexual revolution, DeGroot unearths some painful truths about some of the dark-side of the movement to throw off, what was regarded as, the sexual prudery and repression of the previous generation. While many people did not engage in the sexual revolution, for those who did they did so prior to the rise of feminism. The tragedy of this was that sex wasn't just requested of women, it was expected, and consent was a low priority in the drug-and-sex culture that pervaded much of the decade. Drugs were used often as rape tools, and innocents running away from home in search of communal-idyll were seriously powerless and were shamelessly exploited. DeGroot suggests that hippie culture was wrong to try and separate love and sex, and wrong to try and interpret free-love as some kind of political or transcendental event or statement. In many cases it was pure selfishness - because part of the mosaic of the Sixties was extreme individualism.

DeGroot has a brilliant eye for pithy quotes from key protagonists with which to enliven his discussions of these subjects. One student protester from the LSE reflected, "All those revolutionary a___holes, when it really came down to it, had to finish their courses and get their jobs and secure their careers". He does the same with statistics, showing research that suggested perhaps surprisingly that The Vietnam War was more popular amongst Americans than the NASA Space Program!

DeGroot's pen-portraits of these 67 areas, are fascinating reading. The decade he describes is nothing like the moral abyss described by Conservatives, or the hippy-idyll popularised in the media and collective imagination. A deeply confused-period of turbulent history emerges in the book. If there is a problem with the book, it it simply that without an over-arching theme, the chapters are selected perhaps a little arbitrarily. Indeed the author confesses as much in the introduction in which he states that the original version of the book was twice as long and contained over a hundred essays. He hints at some of the things he had to leave out, perhaps making the reader wish he had written a second volume! I am delighted to discover that DeGroot has gone on and done a similar work on the 1970s.

A Chralaig & Mullach Fraoch-Choire

After a lovely day-off, wandering about in Plockton and reading, I had one day left to enjoy the hills. The weather forecast, however, was rather discouraging! In fact the forecast strongly suggested that I abandon the exercise and go for something in the drier East of the country. I had a map of the Monadliath with me, and was tempted to walk there on my way home. I decided against that, simply because the hills of The Monadliath are within easy reach of home, whereas time spent up in Kintail was a scarce resource I could not afford to squander! Instead I elected to have a go at the two hills in the Cluanie Inn area which I had yet to ascend: A' Chralaig and Mullach Fraoch-choire.

The access point for these hills is via the same gate in the fence on the main road by Loch Cluanie as the dreaded An Caorann Mor path, from the Cluanie Inn to Glen Affric. After less than fifty yards on that track, by a tiny little cairn, a path veers to the right and climbs very steeply up the shoulder of A'Chralaig's South ridge, labelled as Fuaran Mor Chluainidh on the OS map. The path is steep, wet and slippery. In places it is like a less-well used version of the steep pull from Crianlarich up Ben More. After about 700m, the ridge both narrows and the gradient eases off - and really enjoyable day of ridge walking commences.

The weather forecast was a bit grim so I took the precaution of starting my walk fully Goretexed, awaiting the promised rain. By the time I made the ridge I was absolutely cooking and had to start shedding layers. The forecast seemed reasonable enough, it was cold and cloudy and a downpour felt imminent. Cloud was blowing around in the wind when I reached the summit of A'Chralaig, an airy place crowned with a cairn the size of a lighthouse. Someone has spent a huge amount of time and effort up there building it,

it made a nice place to sit and have breakfast, but I couldn't help wondering why they had bothered going to such great lengths in so remote a spot!

The route between the Munro's is simple enough - follow the ridge Northwards to a subsidiary top, and turn eastwards, then follow the curving ridge as it turns back Northwards over an ever narrowing ridge to the peak of Mullach Fraoch-Coire. The top in the centre of this ridge, Stob Coire na Craileig is a fine little mountain in its own right, shapely, steep-sided and featuring a nice little summit with a cairn. It was on this top that I had a wonderful surprise... instead of the expected rain showers, the cloud lifted, the sky turned blue and the whole ridge was exposed! Then the cloud seemed to evaporate from all the adjacent mountains too - providing breathtaking vistas of many of the ridges I had climbed over the preceding days.

As I made my way along the ridge I was uncertain as to the best route off. The books suggested that the best route was to completely retrace my steps over A'Chralaig, but the ascent path up the front of the hill was extremely slippery and I really didn't fancy it. Furthermore, this was my last walk before heading home and I was in a hurry. I hadn't seen my family for four days and was anxious to get going. I had started walked before 7am, with the thought that I could do a days walking and be back for tea, or better still to collect my daughter from school! Different walking books recommend different quick-ways down off the ridge, pointing walkers either to go westwards from the ridge's lowest point either North or South of the top called Stob Coire na Craileig. The first option didn't look promising, however there is a bit of a path heading down through the scree between Stob Coire na Craileig and Mullach Fraoch-Choire - so I elected to use that on my way down.

Mullach Fraoch-Choire is a delight! The ridge to the summit contains a series of lovely pinnacles which can be climbed or circumvented. A path winds its way in and out of these rocky spines, crossing the ridge several times and winding along some fiendish ledges that look like part of the set from Lord of the Rings. It wouldn't be hard to imagine Gandalf himself beckoning walkers along these paths. For a bit of added excitement, in several places these ledge-paths appear to be slumping away from the side of the mountain, and should be used cautiously, especially after heavy rain.

My early start (and weekday walk) meant that I saw no-one on these hills at all - I had this vast, beautiful playground all to myself it seemed. The second Munro summit meant time to stop, and fuel up with some food and drink before picking the descent path back down to the An Caorann Mor track, the car and home. And I was back in time to get my daughter from school!

These two are absolutely splendid mountains, beautiful, with stunning views and lovely features. They are right by the road, and easily accessible too. Both of them can be comfortably climbed by the route described, and be back at the car in around 5 hours. If you are a hillwalker who is new to Kintail and are wondering where to start - I'd suggest these. They are tremendous introduction to a great area of The Scottish Highlands!

An Socach, Sgurr nan Ceathreamhnan & Mullach nan Dheiragain

The essential silliness of Munro-bagging is exemplified in this: Carn Aosda and Mullach nan Dheiragain, are each weighted equally as "a Munro". The former is a an uninspiring amble between ski-tows from a car-park and a cafe up to a flat, and bald-top; while the latter is a beautifully sculpted ridge miles and miles from the nearest road, hidden by other mountains from almost every approach. "I've bagged a Munro" is therefore as vague a statement as, "I've read a book".           All very well........ but which one!?

Essential silliness aside, Munro bagging remains a hugely enjoyable hobby which has taken me all around Scotland, and all over many kinds of landscape. However, I am aware as I look at my Munro map, that all the "easy ones" are coloured blue (ie. "have climbed"), while most of the really difficult ones are coloured red (ie. "not yet climbed"). During my few days in Kintail this week I decided that I should attempt at least one of the walks I had noted as "challenging". The one I chose was the combination of An Socach, Sgurr nan Ceathreamhnan & Mullach nan Dheiragain which lie on the North side of Glen Affric. Although this would be a good day out from Altbeithe Youth Hostel in Glen Affric; from where I was parked near the Cluanie Inn, it was a fearsome prospect!

If you are ever tempted to 'take the short cut' and walk into beautiful Glen Affric via the An Caorann Mor from Loch Cluanie: DON'T! The OS map gives the impression that a path gently glides from glen to glen without interruption, and that the walker will find themselves effortlessly conveyed into the lovely wilderness of Glen Affric. In truth the path is not as distinct as the mapmakers appear to believe. The problem is that at every obstacle (bogs and rivers) the path splits into a wide array of slimy alternatives as countless boot-wearers have attempted to navigate their way without stepping into the oozing, mucky bootholes of the unfortunate who went that way before them. After heavy-rain, the worst mile of this perilous route is not so much a path as the quagmire of a thousand boots. Not only do parts of this place resemble The Somme, but there is a very high likelihood of aquireing trenchfoot here too. 

If I could nominate one path in whole of Highland Scotland to get an upgrade, and be made like the amazing routes which bisect The Cairngorm National Park, it would be the An Caorann Mor. It is slightly strange that the National Park designation has such a huge effect on the money spent on access to the hills. Is the Lairig Ghru really that much more beautiful or special than Glen Affric?

It took two hours to reach Altbeithe Youth Hostel, where I planned to stop and have some breakfast. The warden was outside shopping wood, and came over for a blether. I was slightly wary about this encounter. It

 Altbeithe Hostel and Footbridge

is a well-known fact that some SYHA wardens do NOT let anyone sit on the benches by their hostels unless they are paying guests. This has been the case even in some quite remote places, such as Loch Ossian, believe it or not. This warden was quite different however, not only did she not mind me resting my rear-end on the youth hostel bench, she actually handed me a coffee - and added that if I was passing that way again I would be welcome to have another cup too!

Cheered and refreshed I took to the hill behind the hostel. The path climbs Northwards from the hostel door, before swinging easterly and entering a large area fenced off to protect young trees from the hundreds of deer which roam Affric. It's a reasonably steep climb, but my progress was encouraged by the music of birdsong all around me - which was something of a surprise. Since leaving the car over two hours previously, I had walked in near silence (except for the squelch of boot-in-bog, obviously). Inside the deer-fencing however, there was life everywhere. Rather than just grasses and bogweeds, the enclosure contained a whole variety of trees and shrubs - perfect places for birds, and other small animals. When I was young, and wanted to get away from London's noisy suburbs to experience the freedom of space, the best available place was Windsor Great Park. It offered traffic-free roads to cycle, woods, fields and some fresh air. Of course, in Windsor they have plenty of deer roaming around, and lots of deer-fencing to control where they go. The difference is that Windsor deer are not wild, and the fences keep them 'in'; while Affric deer are very wild, and fences are required to keep them 'out'!

I think walking through the fenced-off enclosure made me understand for the first time why some people want to restore natural predators, such as wolves, to The Highlands. Overpopulation of deer, clearly diminishes the environment. On balance though, I'm not sure it is a viable or realistic solution to the problem. I am at a loss as to understand why a sensible wolf would expend huge effort stalking venison, high in the glens, when lamb is so readily available on farms and around villages further down! I'm not sure wolves would do the job as cleanly and effectively as the combination of marksmen and fencing-contractors currently do. Now sheep have a poisoned history in the Highlands, it was after all for the profits they brought that the clearances were enacted. Nevertheless, that history is hardly the fault of current sheep-farmers, and re-wolfing the land could simply lead to a new set of clearances as the costs of wolf-fencing for them would be prohibitive. At the top of the anti-deer enclosure another gate led me out onto open-land, away from such thoughts and up onto a high and windswept ridge, nestling under the first Munro of the day, An Socach.

There are three hills named An Socach, one each at Braemar, Mullardoch, and in Glen Affric. This one

usually provides a delightful view down Glen Affric - along the route taken by those with superhuman strength (or superhuman lack of sense) who competed in the gruelling Highland Cross endurance run and cycle the previous weekend. Sadly this famous viewpoint revealed nothing more than a summit, a cairn, and billowing cloud, which restricted visibility to the extent that I even checked with my GPS to make sure that I actually was on the true top of An Socach.

A scratchy path took me down from the summit of Socach to the bealach at which I had first made the ridge. From here I continued westwards along the high, and at times narrow ridge of Stob Coire na Cloiche, and its four tops, and on to the big pull up towards Sgurr nan Ceathreamhnan. Even though we are only a few days away from July, in a couple of places I found myself kicking steps into snow and ice, which lay in a thick sheet right across the ridge. Sgurr nan Ceathreamhnan is a really impressive mountain, its' fine peak lies at the conjunction of three beautiful ridges sweeping in from the east, west, and north-east. Sadly, as I climbed it, I couldn't see it, as I was well into the cloud at that altitude - but the ridge just kept on going up, and when you thought it couldn't go higher, it did!  One of the highest points in the Affric area, Ceathreamhnan presents a good challenge to the walker - and I ploughed into the climb with some determination. At this point in the walk I was clock-watching intently. Having checked the sunset time and not left myself much margin for error, I had to turn back towards the car by 2:30/3:00PM at the absolute latest - or face a very lonely night in the hills. I wanted to get out to the really remote Mullach nan Dheiragain, but knew that unless I walked at a good speed it would elude me.

The summit of Ceathreamhnan was deserted and cloudy - but I was there on time to move onwards.

Slapping my compass down on the map, and walking from the cairn to the NE, I soon discovered a path leading down onto the NE ridge, down into the Bealach nan Doine, and up onto Carn na Con Dhu. The long, long ridge out to Mullach na Dheiragain I heard referred to as 'the ridge that never ends'. With the clock eating the time, faster than my legs were consuming the miles, I had to abandon my rucksack and run some of the way to the distant cairn and back.  Mullach nan Dheiragain is not a hard Munro in itself, the challenge it presents is simply getting to to it, as it is so far from the road, and has such huge mountains guarding access to it. I was delighted to have managed to reach one of the 'hard ones'  - and turned to face the gruelling walk out.

Of course the long walk out began with a tough re-assent of Ceathreamhnan. As I turned Southwards the clouds began first to break-up and then to lift. In front of me was the intimidating bulk Ceathreamhnan, which at first glimpse through breaking cloud looked impossible to climb. The peak appeared through the cloud substantially higher up than I had anticipated too! To my left was the vast rocky amphitheatre of the Coire nan Dearcag basin, surrounded by all three of my day's Munro's, their tops and connecting ridges. It was a hugely impressive sight - but somewhat focused my mind on the sheer length of my homeward march. The return ridge-walk in sunshine was a different experience than the cloudy, cold inward trip!

Descending back through the deer-fencing, I remembered the hostel warden had offered me more coffee on my way back through Glen Affric. The heat and humidity rose all afternoon - and I was still having to walk fast to make my schedule safely, and actually had started to dehydrate and feel a bit rough. As I reached the hostel the friendly warden called out, "coffee, no sugar, just a dash of milk, wasn't it?!". Indeed it was. Loading up with water from the hostel tap - and adding a rehydration tablet to it helped a bit, and I moved off again towards the ghastly boggy track out.

I discovered though that the worst obstacles on this route can be avoided by taking the upper path on the eastern side of the glen. It proved to be a lot better than the lower path I had used on the way in, over ten hours previously. This path can be found by following the deer-fencing above the footbridge over the river Affric by the hostel. Despite this better path, I struggled on the last two hours. Having walked the best part of 30miles, and climbed almost 3000m, I was tired. I was also dehydrating again - and soon used up the water refill I had taken at the hostel. The car was a truly welcome sight, and the removal of my boots an act of utter joy!

Once back at the Kintail Lodge, I must have drunk two coffees and about five pints of water - and till felt thirsty. I was really pleased with my day's efforts, and turned my alarm off before collapsing into bed. A day-off was in order!

Carn Ghluasaid, Sgurr nan Conbhairean and Sail Chaorainn

Time, weather, busyness and tragedy have meant that I haven't climbed or walked much in the Northwest Highlands of Scotland for several years. This week I was able to take up temporary residence at the "Trekkers Lodge" a bunkhouse immediately behind The Kintail Lodge Hotel, and spend three full days in the hills. I didn't go there with very high hopes, I didn't know if the bunkhouse would be any good, and the weather forecast was poor and deteriorating. Nevertheless, I packed the walking gear, (the waterproofs, maps, compass, hats, gloves, boots, GPS, food, drink) into a rucksack; and loaded the car with fuel and a choice of fine CDs and pointed North and West in search of Munros!

The bunkhouse turned out to be great. I had a single room (a cupboard!), and that came with kitchen/toilet/shower/drying room facilities for £16.50/night. That's about the same as a SYHA would charge for shared dormitory

accommodation which comes with all the associated inconvenience of shared space, and snoring room-mates! Sometimes when I wake up in the very early hours I like to read; not possible in a dorm. I also seem to have developed an allergy to something in spray deodorants, and I dread walking into the room when I will sleep to find someone venting the perfumed haze into air. The bunkhouse at Kintail is also about 30ft from the bar, which means that if after a long day on the hill you don't fancy cooking - you can make use of their pretty decent food. The fact that they also have a real-ale on tap and thirty malt whiskies available is an added incentive.

Many years ago I walked the long South Glen Shiel Ridge on a church walk, in which cars were carefully placed at the far end of the walk the previous night to bring us back to our starting point. The North side of the glen isn't walkable in the same linear fashion, but divides up into several distinct groups of walks, from the celebrated Five Sisters in the West to Carn Ghluasaid in the East. It's five years since I walked on the Five Sisters ridge, and I had never been to the eastern end of this group at all, so I began my walking at Loch Cluanie, at a layby marked as 'Lundie' on the OS map (although apart from the layby, there isn't actually anything there other than the road). Access to the hill at Lundie is via an old military road which runs parallel to the A87, westwards towards a distinctive radio mast. Any doubts as to the route are quickly erased by a signpost which points walkers towards Carn Ghluasaid along the track from the road.

Once at the radio mast a long climb winds its way all the way onto the mountain' broad summit, and large cairn. The first mile or two of the route are rather oddly marked by roadside reflective posts. The route is in places boggy, but this path provides a fast and straightforward route up onto the ridges. I climbed through

solid cloud - the views of surrounding mountains were spectacular but momentary. These are relatively lonely hills too (especially during the week). I saw only one other soul all day. There have been many times in which I have teamed up with other walkers in the hills - but every time I met this guy he emphasised that he was there for solitude and disappeared quickly!

Sgurr nan Conbhairean is a fine peak, with much to admire even in poor visibility. Its' graceful lines, and steeply sided ridges guide the walker through the fog up to its cairn at 1109m. Sail Chaorainn and its northernmost top (where there is allegedly a fine view!), feel like an extension of Conbhairean. I climbed them, before heading back towards the main summit, but turned westwards at around 1000m to bypass the mountain top itself.. All the walking books are unanimous in the recommendation of a descent via Drochaid an Tuill Easaich, and its' long grassy southern ridge. This slopes back down to the old military road, along to the radio mast and on to the car at Lundie.

It wasn't the most epic day in the hills I have ever had, but I returned to the pub feeling reasonably satisfied with my efforts. It was good to be back in the hills of the NW after a long break, I felt reasonably strong,

and the day had progressed without incident. This was a fine day's walking which needs to be done again with a view! Even better, the hotel staff pinned up the next day's forecast - and it was looking like a long dry day with some serious views would be on offer. I finished my pint, and went to bed, with an early alarm set for the next day's challenge.