The forecast was not good.  Cloud down to 700m, northerly wind, gusting to 40-60 mph on the summits, and heavy showers in the afternoon.

The participants this year were Seumas, Mary, David & Ann, who set off from Coire Cas Car Park at 11am, and Hugh, who had taken an early bus, was ahead of us, and planned to walk up Windy Ridge, where we soon followed. We had a glimpse of the snow remaining in Coire Lochan before the cloud engulfed us. At least the wind was behind us.

When we reached the Ptarmigan we went in for a warm up, and a bite to eat before continuing towards Fuaran a’Mharcuis, and soon met Hugh on his way down, having not reached the summit, and Mary accompanied him back to the Ptarmigan.

The rest continued in a brief but heavy shower, and received the full blast of the wind, rain, and occasional sleet in our faces as we reached the Cairn.

Sheltering behind the cairn, Ann recited ‘Eirich mun eirich a’ghrian’, which was ironic considering the lack of any view, and windchill of -7c., and Seumas gave us John Roy’s Psalm, ‘The Lord’s my Targe, I will be stout’, and John Roy and his comrades were duly toasted.  (both poems given below)

The Banner was then unfurled for its annual airing – we had not carried the flagpole as it is heavy and unweildy in the wind, only the banner had been taken, as James MacIntyre would have carried the original banner to the summit in the years after Culloden. The Banner flapped like a wild thing, held by two of us while the third took some photos.

We returned to the Ptarmigan as rapidly as possible, and finished our lunches! Mary and Hugh went down on the Funicular, and the stalwarts descended into pleasanter conditions, reaching the car park in half an hour, joining Mary and Hugh in the café.

Eirich

Eirich mu’n eirich a’ghrian,
Siubhail dian mu’n tig an teas,
Ruig mullach a Chuirn Ghuirm,
Far an faic thu thall ’s bhos

Chi mi poit a’ Ghlinne Mhoir,
Chi mi Bu-choinnich is Beag-ghleann,
Chi mi Gleann Einich an fheidh,
Far am biodh an spreidh air eadradh.

Arise ere the sun doth rise,
Travel fast ere comes the heat,
Reach the top of Cairngorm,
Where you’ll see both far and near.

I see the cauldron of Glenmore, –
I see the Mossy Bow and the Little Glen, –
I see the Bountiful Glen of Deer,
Where the cattle will be at milking time.

Collected by Rev. Thomas Sinton, in ‘Poetry of Badenoch’.

John Roy’s Psalm

The Lord’s my targe, I will be stout,
With dirk and trusty blade,
Though Campbells come in flocks about,
I will not be afraid.

The Lord’s the same as heretofore,
He’s always good to me,
Though Red-coats come a thousand more,
Afraid I will not be.

Though they the woods do cut and burn,
And drain the lochs all dry,
Though they the rocks do overturn,
And change the course of Spey.

Though they mow down both corn and grass,
Nay, seek me underground,
Though hundreds guard each road and pass,
John Roy will not be found.