Beinn Dorain : Beinn an Dothaidh

Beinn Dorain & Beinn an Dothaidh

Attendees: Mark, Louise, Trekkerdave, K and the Fatdog

Crossing the railway station car park at Bridge of Orchy I said “Good Morning” in passing to a fellow walker standing at his car. “C’mon Fatdog!” I encouraged the canine. “Kenny?” said the stranger incredulously. I looked up. The memory bank skimmed through photos of possible candidates. “Dave?” I said, equally astonished.

Dave was waiting for friends to arrive to do the same hills. I pleaded that myself and the Fatdog could be allowed to join the party, to which Dave most graciously agreed. He was about to find out why I plead so hard for company!

Once Mark and Louise arrived we started off under the railway underpass, through a gate and off onto the open hill.

The obvious trail runs parallel to Allt Coire an Dothaidh and its south side and heads up to a beallach between the two Munros. The walk in was gentle to start then toughened up a bit towards the top of Coire an Dothaidh.

Mark and Louise only intended to do Beinn an Dothaidh leaving myself, TD and the Fatdog to tackle Beinn Dorain. The debate at the cairn in the bealach went round possible permutations of what hills to do in what order and who might wait where, for whom, but in the end it was decided that we would all summit Beinn an Dothaidh first. After our triumphant conquest of Beinn an Dothaidh TD, myself and the Fatdog would head off to Beinn Dorain whilst Mark and Louise headed for the pub.

The plan of action complete we struck north, skirted around a little buttress and were soon in the large, shallow Corrie Reidh between the 3 peaks of the hill.

. A quick squelch through a bog up to the ridge connecting peaks 1 and 2, a sharp right at the big north buttress and we were soon en route for the middle (highest) top.

Just before the summit a quick inspection of the remains of a fissured cornice threw up an interesting feature. If you look to the right of the snow sheet, where Mark is pointing, you can see footprints where someone had made an ascent.

This is the point where my new companions realised their big mistake.
The Fatdog likes having her photo taken. The Fatdog knows lunch when she smells it!

Off went the Fatdog on the mandatory rucksack inspection.

What followed has now become normal for me, having observed the Fatdog over many walking trips. Most travelling companions appear to contract what I shall refer to as Fatdog Syndrome. This takes the form of the victim unconsciously feeding in excess of 50% of their lunch to the Fatdog without realising that this very action is taking place. The poor sufferer then appears to wake up from this trance-like state staring helplessly into the much reduced contents of their lunch pack.
As you can see from the photograph the subject is totally under the influence of the Fatdog.

It should now be obvious why I plead to join any party heading up the hill.

We headed back to the bealach, waved goodbye to Mark and Louise who were sensibly heading for the pub, and started south up a slabby rib towards the top of Beinn Dorain.

We’d just started when Dave got a call from Chris.

The Fatdog was beginning to feel the pace…

…and chilled out on the remains of the snow.

I have to admit I was beginning to feel the legs slowing up as we neared the top of our 2nd Munro of the day.

Dave remained constantly cheerful…considering the Fatdog had consumed a considerable quantity of his supplies.

I was smiling too ‘cause the Fatdog had consumed a considerable quantity of his supplies…and not mine!

Unfortunately the haze meant there were no sights to be seen at the summit of Beinn Dorain so it was time to pack up and head down.

The path heading down was loose and treacherous and we nearly lost our footing a number of times. Dave’s superior fitness was beginning to tell and the gap between us increased the closer to the pub we got. I can’t tell if the two are related.

Leaving Dave to meet up with Mark and Louise, the Fatdog and I headed for the car park and had one last look back at the hills.

The Fatdog was totally done in and collapsed in the shade behind the car.

Dear Uncle Dave,

Thank you very much for letting us walk with you and Mark and Louise up the hills. It was very nice. Thank you for all the food you gave me though I am still not sure about pork pies. Thank you for looking after the old one and waiting for him to catch up every 5 minutes…although I did notice that you were in a big hurry to get to the big white building at the bottom of the hill. I didn’t mind but I did have to carry him back to the car myself which made me very tired.
I hope I shall see more of your lunch soon.

The Fatdog