I woke on Day 3 to another low cloud base just as it had been the day before and was again undecided on where to walk. Two options were on my mind, the twin Munros of Beinn a’ Bheithir rising above Ballachulish, or the two northern Black Mount Munros above the Glencoe Ski Centre.

It was again a matter of turning left or right at the Glencoe junction. I turned left towards Glencoe deciding to head for the Black Mount Munros. I never tire of driving through here, always looking in awe at the mountains looming above me!
As I passed beneath the Aonach Eagach, I looked up at its jagged spine, remembering the day I’d traversed that ridge a few years earlier in truly awful conditions, a day that still haunts me, and one I really should write about properly. Another time maybe.

The road to the ski centre was smothered in mist with very poor visibility. The car park was quiet and after getting my rucksack ready and donning my boots I set off up the steep, rough path that climbs beside the cable cars. Nala trotted ahead with that boundless optimism that dogs have. I just love their energy and the fact that they need very little to be happy – just a walk and a stick (oh and lots of food!) It didn’t take long before the grey began to thin and the cloud started to glow with hints of blue seeping through and I knew another inversion was on the cards… and another world of sunlit summits floating above a sea of cloud.

Day 3 was about to become something special.

As I climbed out of the cloud and into the warm sunshine, I looked around and spotted a perfect fog bow in the mist and then another Brocken spectre. I took the obligatory photo and a video clip, the kind I’d later stitch into a simple Instagram reel. My reels never get much attention; they’re not polished or curated with catchy hooks like so many out there. But they’re not for that. They’re for me, memories of moments like this to look back on whenever I feel the need.
I pressed on, leaving the cloud base far below as I climbed toward the first Munro of the day. Once again, the glens echoed with the roaring of red deer stags, their calls drifting up through the cloud and giving me goosebumps every single time. All around me, a 360-degree sea of cloud stretched to the horizon, every peak rising from it like an island. A day of walking high above the world, in complete awe. How lucky was I?

The ascent to the first summit was a bit of a slog with what seemed like endless scree and small boulders but eventually the summit cairn appeared. Once again I had the summit to myself, so Nala and I did our usual silly summit dance, just the two of us on a mountain top.

The route to the second summit dropped sharply down a rocky spur, then followed a narrow ridge before rising steeply and scrambly toward Creise. I’d been a little wary of this section; I’d read it could be awkward, and I wasn’t sure how technical it would be for Nala. Worst case, we could always turn back. But in the end, it was absolutely fine, Nala scampered up no problem at all, and I followed, meeting her at the top where she was waiting for me
Reaching the summit ridge of Creise was one of those pure wow moments with more views opening up which had previously been hidden by the mountain we were climbing. Walking along that ridge, with cloud lapping at its edges, was pure joy.

I had the summit of Creise entirely to myself for about twenty minutes before more walkers joined, and there was lots of chat about the fabulous conditions we were walking in. I lingered for an hour or so, wandering around, soaking in every angle.

Before heading back down, I decided to detour to a nearby Munro Top, slightly lower than Creise, but still over 1000m, and deserving of a visit. I wasn’t disappointed: a lovely little cairn and yet another fresh perspective.
Because it was a linear route, I had to re-ascend the first Munro again which was rather a slog in the hot sun and it sapped my energy, but we eventually reached the summit a second time and found ourselves alone on the top once again.

As we descended down towards the ski centre, the cloud finally began to break up, revealing the views of the valley below that had been hidden beneath the cloud all day.
Back at the van, I rewarded myself with something to eat from the café and picked up a millionaire’s shortbread for later, to enjoy with a hot chocolate. The Glencoe Ski Centre lets you park overnight for a £5 donation, so that’s exactly what I did, looking out over Buachaille Etive Mòr which glowed as the sun set, giving me a wonderful end to an absolutely fabulous day in the hills.

And tomorrow? I already knew where we were headed.... Bridge of Orchy, two Munros I’ve driven past so many times, always looking up in awe. I couldn’t wait!