Top of the world.

Skye, Sgurr Alisdair. 

This was after having conquered Sgurr Dhu Mor. 

The walk in to Coire Ghrunnda was not as tough as I remember. The lochan is still as beautiful. The slog up the scree to the ridge was more accessible than I recalled and which was a confidence booster. The scramble up Sgurr Dubh Beag was slowed by our encounter with a large party of guide lead baggers. Plus a spaniel. The spaniel had the most energy of the whole crew. Once I peeped over the top of Sgurr Dubh Beag and looked at Sgurr Dubh Mor itself I had a brief moment of physical misery at the sheer brutality of the landscape in front of me. However it was not even lunch and we were almost at my goal. 

We dumped our packs in a little sconce in the rocks and so onward and upward, following the crampon scratches and the well polished rocks to find a route to the small stack of stones at the summit. 

I gave D a hug because he had done the route finding all day and here we were at the top of my last Cuillin Munro. 

The route back I was lighter of heart but more aware of the drop below. I took care and moved slowly, I don't think I was the only one being careful. 

It was a fun traverse over to the base of Sgurr Alisdair and then a swift climb up the chimney to the summit. A gentleman we happened to meet there took the photo I have posted today. 

Top of the world. 

A horrible stumbling rush down the great stone shoot got us back to the path and the gentle walk out to the car. 

Bunk house, shower, pasta, cider, bed. 

What a brilliant day.