Day 2 - The Pap of Glencoe and a Sea of Clouds

I woke on the morning of day 2 to grey skies. The summits were gone, swallowed whole by low cloud. I knew inversion conditions were forecast, but it’s hard to believe such magic might be waiting above you when all you can see is gloom! I wasn’t sure what to do.

The two munros of Beinn a’ Bheithir or the Pap of Glencoe? I was a bit tired after the long drive up, having not had much sleep and having walked nearly 20 km and two Munros the previous day - maybe another 2 munros might be a bit much and the Pap of Glencoe was one of those iconic summits I’d passed many times over the years which I longed to do. After my morning coffee and still no decision made I left my park up and headed around the loch. Only when I reached the junction, right to Beinn a’ Bheithir, left to the Pap, did I let instinct make the choice for me. Left it was!

For the first stretch I had views, with Glencoe opening up below and Loch Linnhe stretching out behind me. Soon enough though I climbed into the cloud and the world closed in. I was convinced the Pap wasn’t high enough to break through the cloud layer, but it still felt good to finally be climbing this little peak after passing it so many times over the years.

And then it happened. It started to brighten, the cloud thinned and I could see a hint of pale blue overhead. As I approached the ‘Pap’ itself I broke through the cloud layer and stepped out of the dull grey and into full sunlight. It was like walking into another world.

I was absolutely thrilled as I scrambled up the last few metres. I reached the cairn and realised that I was completely alone. All around me stretched a perfect 360-degree sea of cloud in full sunshine. The surrounding peaks were like islands in a sea of cloud. I stood there, utterly mesmerised and overwhelmed with gratitude

Whenever I have a summit to myself, I do a little celebratory dance. It’s a silly little thing that I do but it feels good jumping up and down, arms in the air in thanks to the universe! - and Nala always joins in, jumping up, paws wrapped around me, as if she under-stands exactly what we’re celebrating. I only ever do it when no one else is around. Sometimes I set up the camera just for fun. So we did our little dance, my arms in the air, spinning in the sunshine, saying thank you for this moment.

Then we settled down on the rocks and simply absorbed it. Eventually others began to appear, climbing up out of the cloud, and I stayed for nearly two hours sunbathing, chatting to other walkers, reluctant to leave. One lady approached me telling me she had taken a photograph of Nala and I sitting together and asked if I'd like her to send it to me - I've included the photo here for you to see.

When I finally began the descent, I spotted a Brocken spectre, my shadow cast on the cloud ringed in a halo of light. A final gift from the day.

Back in Kinlochleven, I picked up supplies from the little Co-op and returned once more to my favourite spot by the loch. Evening settled and I heated some food, listening to the calls of birds across the water, and the roar of stags beyond and wondered what the next day in the Highlands might bring.