THE maps have been pored over, the to-do list written out and the enthusiasm fired up for all the great mountain days ahead – yes, this is the time of year when I tend to go full Baldrick.
Of course, experience has shown that this cunning plan will prove to be nothing but a flight of fancy and, just like the schemes of Blackadder's hapless sidekick, won't survive much past the first few contacts with reality.
Still, there's no harm in dreaming. It's the perfect antidote to the dark days of late December and early January when getting out of bed before 9am becomes a novelty. I've never had a gap year, but the regularity of this listless four-week spell either side of Christmas more than makes up for that.
Some remnants of this latest wish list will survive intact. There will be big trips and there will be plenty of fine days on the hill but there will also be the inevitable bag of spanners thrown into the works – storms and road closures, family commitments and illness, bouts of general indolence and other various vexations. As John Lennon said: “Life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans.”
There are dates etched in stone, multi-day trips that offer plenty of scope, with the focus on the continuing mission for a second round of Corbetts while still keeping one eye on easing towards a final flourish on the Munros.
I was pleasantly surprised by the number of long mountain days I managed last year. After a couple of bad months following a good January, I recovered to enjoy huge sweeps of the Fisherfield and Glen Affric peaks and the Corbetts of the far north-west. There were also big circuits in the Mamores and the Lake District, so I remain optimistic that the fitness will properly kick in with the improving light as the dark winter skirmishes fade out.
Having reached an age where received birthday cards tend to be less about expressing congratulations than surprise that one has managed to survive another year, the priority is to take out as many of the remaining big days as possible leaving the easier, single hills for the fast-approaching era of decrepitation.
The big challenges include Beinn Bhreac above Bruar, Carn Ban in the north-west and the three Corbetts in Glen Elchaig, walks that were last done in 2008 in the latter stages of the first round. I feel I can't afford to leave them so late in the day this time.
My first ascent of Beinn Bhreac involved a return over the Munro Beinn Dearg and it makes sense to repeat this route. It was a very long day but never felt too strenuous – I expect that might not be the case now.
Carn Ban offers a variety of approaches, all of them long. My first experience of this mountain was not particularly pleasant: in a bid to travel fast I stripped down my gear and wore lighter boots on the way in from Black Bridge. All was going well until I was caught in torrential rain for two hours on the way out. This led to my feet becoming so wet that the skin on both soles became detached and I completed the final few miles in crippling pain. My feet ended up having to be heavily bandaged and I couldn't walk properly for a week.
Needless to say, I would prefer to take a different ascent route this time, either coming in from north and adding Seana Bhraigh or preferably from the east through Alladale and sweeping up some extra summits. Either way will likely involve a night out on the hill or in a bothy so a good spell of weather is essential. The Elchaig trio will also be a two-day expedition, the route dependent on which way the wind blows, going over Sguman Coinntich and Faochaig and dropping down for a break at the remote Maol Buidhe bothy before returning over Aonach Buidhe, or vice versa.
An annual week away with friends in early May, this time based at Taynuilt, opens up a range of possibilities around Oban, Mull, Glen Coe and Bridge of Orchy and Tyndrum. There are also weekends in Kintail (twice), Ardgour and Aviemore, but the highlight of the year has got to be a long-awaited return to Rum. Previous trips have been short and therefore focussed purely on the magnificent Cuillin round, but this will be a more leisurely stay with the chance to fully explore the north and west of the island as well as the possibility of witnessing one of nature's great gatherings.
Rum is home to one of the largest colonies of Manx shearwaters in the world, with around 30 per cent of the total population nesting in the hills here. The sight, but particularly the sound, of these magnificent birds coming in to their burrows at night en masse would be something to behold. Their ghostly cries are said to be the reason Trollabhal – the mountain of the trolls – got its name, as the Norsemen who inhabited the island believed the screeching came from those mythological creatures living in the mountains.
It's hard to think of another 2025 experience that will top this night-time expedition but there's always a surprise or two along the way. I hope you all find some pleasant ones of your own over the next year.