I ended up going for a hill walk with friends yesterday morning, and then collapsed from exhaustion for the rest of the afternoon and evening.

This was my first proper walk of the season, and it was rather unplanned and spontaneous. Also, my foot has not healed properly, yet, so maybe the walk was also a bad idea.

Still, we went.

Our chosen summit was Clachnaben, which is Gaelic for “rock on the hill”. It looks pretty impressive from a distance, and would also have done so yesterday had it not been hidden by low clouds and fog.

Clachnaben in classed as a “hill”, not a munro, but it’s a challenging ascent. Or it is for me. The trail changes between wide paths to very narrow ones on the edge of steep slopes, from smooth to rocky steps and rubble.

As we went up, I was reminded of the last time I walked up this hill and I think all of the muscles in my legs remembered, too, because they all seemed to mutiny at the same time. I promised myself, I’d at least make it two thirds of the way, to the point where the ascent basically changes into a steep staircase to the top. So, I did. Then Andy and I turned back while my friends soldiered on to the summit.

I think I made the right call. There was zero visibility from up top. By the time I got back to the car park I was absolutely exhausted. By the time, we got home, both Andy and I fell asleep as soon as we sat down.

Still, I loved the trip. Loved the walk. Loved seeing Andy have a great time.