Day 299: Ben Nevis

At 1,345 metres, Ben Nevis is the highest mountain in the UK. Cal and I are hiking up via the Càrn Mòr Dearg Arête, one of the finest ridge-walks in Scotland. The weather could not be better — the sun beaming overhead in a crystal clear sky.

Up and up we go. Fort William, Loch Linnhe and Loch Eil fall away below.

Cal pauses to inspect various climbing routes up the Ben, intending to return with friends later in the week. It looks terrifying to me — a cruel place, all cold and shadow.

We rest on top of Càrn Dearg Meadhonach, enjoying a warming coffee and watching a couple pass below. Three tiny figures crawl like ants far ahead on the ridge. Otherwise, we are alone.

Peaks roll like waves to the horizon. Excitement and wonder. How did I get so lucky?

Càrn Mòr Dearg is the ninth highest mountain in Britain, yet it must still pay homage to the Ben. The broad ridge makes for an easy summit, keeping well away from the snow banked on the edge.

My website banner image, taken by Ian almost four years ago, atop the chalk cliffs of Dorset, enjoyed a good run, but it’s time for a change, and Cal goes for a silhouette.

The ridge approaches.

Cal leads the way. There’s a fair bit of scrambling across large rocks, but not too exposed, like a more strenuous version of Striding Edge.

He waits for me to catch up, as usual.

My turn in front. There’s a more straightforward path a few feet lower, but Cal insists on taking the high route. I’m dripping with sweat. The views are breathtaking.

At the end of the ridge, the final approach to the summit is a grueling scramble up rocks. I tire and slow. Cal sees the top — one more push.

It’s a relief to reach the snowy plateau, unexpectedly quiet given the fine weather. A broken gin bottle lies in the snow next to the ruins of the observatory. Who does these things? Cal wraps it carefully to take down the mountain.

We sit for lunch on the snow opposite the summit before descending the popular Mountain Track. It’s icy underfoot, and a young woman goes flying.

The path becomes a snowy slope. Cal can’t resist sliding down. Some things never change.

Snow means time for my crampons and ice axe lesson, although I can’t practice a self-arrest due to the rocks below. Traversing the slope is hard on the ankles, and I’m quickly tired — in my defence, we have just climbed Ben Nevis — so I find a comfortable rock to sit on. Cal refuses to issue a pass certificate, which is understandable given that I can’t fix my crampons on without assistance. Starved of snow in the Highlands this winter, he’s in his element, stomping around, so I’m happy to drink coffee and watch him have fun.

Back on the path, we branch off halfway down, to the right of the loch until the path ends and it’s bog and heather hopping across the valley back to the car. There are midges in the trees. What are the little devils doing out so early in the season? I was hoping to have at least April and May free for camping.

A fantastic walk. I should have planned this for Day 300.

Date of walk: Wednesday 19 March 2025.

Walk distance: 10 miles.

Total distance: 4,925 miles.