The Hidden Valley- PhotoBlog

A heavy head, eyes glued shut, raised from the pillow as the alarm sounded. Yawning in the shower before clambering into thermal base-layers. The mind jockeyed the body from the remnants of sleep. The last chance saloon for laziness when the car took forever to de-ice.

Glencoe’s Hidden Valley

We caught up in the car with snowy landscape passing by the window. Rustlings and exhales in the car park before quick strides brought breathlessness. Conversation would flit in and out depending on the incline. The light transitioned through washed-grey to a brightness lent strength by the snow. Fresh air and company exemplifying their medicinal qualities once more.

Climbing betweeb Beinn Fhada and Gear Aonach, the path ambled by clear streams infused with the blue of mountain ice. The rock walls loomed overhead as they funnelled us up toward the hidden valley. On past visits, the valley proved a cauldron of wind and snow. This time it provided shelter and silence. Red deer crossed the valley in single file, keeping quiet and watching with those impossibly large eyes.

We passed through the valley and began the climb to the peaks beyond. The snow and ice intensified almost immediately. Waterfalls had almost completely frozen over: the water pulsing black beneath the ice. We settled into a steady rhythm of kicking steps into the ice and snow before catching our breath and repeating.

The light began to fade, and we abandoned the summit attempt in favour of a safe descent. The cold, by now in our bones, was only intensifying as the sun began its descent. The ice demanded concentration and the new wave of cold hinted at the inhospitality the valley might be capable of. Back to car and to the long drive home. There are few feelings quite as good as a post-climb nap, but, being the driver, I would have to forgo this luxury in favour of a swift and safe return.