PUTTING THE RECORD STRAIGHT WITH TIDY-UP OF UNSUNG PEAKS

THE mountains are forever but the names of the high points are more transitory, and that proved motivation enough for a long delayed tidy-up of a relatively uncelebrated peak.

The Graham Beinn Dearg is not one to set the pulse racing. It is – or was – the marked high point of a horseshoe ridge of lumps and bumps on the north side of Glen Artney which requires the crossing of a tortuous stretch of tussock and bog.

My previous visit was sometime after the end of the late Paleozoic era – it feels like a long time ago – a winter half-day up and back to the handful of stones that marked the indifferent summit as the snow blew through and the wind howled.

As I stood there having the skin stripped from my face, I contemplated doing the circuit but quickly decided life was too short and headed down to get out of the cold. Mistake. I should have known this would come back to bite me.

I learned early in my mountain days to take in as many nearby summits as possible to save possible pain further down the line. No point turning your back on a top sitting just an hour or so away when it could save a big return journey and all that re-ascent. I'm not the best at leaving things unfinished anyway, so when various surveys started to suggest this was not the highest point I knew I would have to return. The only reason it has taken so long is that I had my fingers crossed these rumours would prove unfounded.

The high point is now said to be at the opposite end of the ridge, a summit noted in some quarters as Stuc na Cabaig. Except this name is shown on maps as a rocky prow off to the north of the high point. You get the distinct feeling that even the mapmakers couldn't get too excited about this ridge.

Step forward Grahams guru Alan Dawson. After taking advice from those living and working in the glen and being told that Stuc na Cabaig and even Beinn Dearg were irrelevant and even mystifying choices, he suggested the summit be called Creag na h-Eararuidh.

For non-Gaelic speakers, it's not as scary as it appears at first glance, rolling off the tongue as Crayk na Herra. This was the name marked on maps which referred to the craggy faces that loom over Coir' an t-Slugain, the one feature of this circuit with some real character. And just to confirm its superiority over the neighbour along the way, the stones at the top of this peak are neatly piled rather than scattered even if there is still just a handful.

I picked a much nicer day for the revisit, blue sky, light winds and warmth, perfect for a spring tidy – the fact it inevitably proved to be part of the false spring ambush was predictable yet immaterial – and the dread of the bog crossing meant that while still awful it wasn't quite as bad as I had imagined.

There were other factors to lift the spirits. Once on the first top, Sron na Maoile, the views opened out with Ben Vorlich and Stuc a' Chroin dominating the skyline to the west; as I worked my way along the ridge a kettle of red kites took turns to perform silent acrobatic routines overhead; the gentle undulations of the way ahead provided a pleasant workout that was never too taxing.

All too soon I was back on Beinn Dearg and the feelgood factor took a nosedive with the realisation that it was time to head back down into the squelch zone. Once more though it wasn't as bad as I had feared, and there was the added bonus of knowing that I never, ever, have to set foot in this quagmire again.