Fortunately there is no lasting record of the hordes that descended on to Glenbrittle last September. Suffice to say, we were too many and I don’t think we’ll get away with that again! However, the floor is the best place for some members and after Bill Lindsay’s last foray on Jura, he’s lucky to get a roof over his head.

The wise, the retired and the wage-less were able to have a full day on the Friday, thus getting the best of the weather. John Henderson, Brent Craig and Derrick Harman clambering over the Graham and the Marilyn respectively of Belig and Glas Bheinn Mhor.

Brent and Derrick on Belig (Photo by John Henderson)

View from Sithean Bhealaich Chumhaing (Photo by Andy Lawson)

They then went on a veritable massacre of Marilyns over the next two days, being joined by an envious ‘Wednesday’ Lawson for a couple on the Saturday.

For the majority however, a glorious Friday gave way to more Skye-like weather on the Saturday. Ella and Drummond made for Quiraing in a bid for fairer weather, but were disappointed in that pursuit. Still managing a fine day out however, taking in Meall na Suiramach, Sgurr Mor and the Pinnacles. Ray Harron, Evelyne and Dave Whitelock climbed what looks like Am Dories, and should have probably known better.

Dave Maclean, Fiona Duncan, Alan Duncan, Bob, Andy B and Jake began the ascent of Sgurr Alasdair with little intent of getting to the top. A pleasant sortie saw them get to the Loch Coir’ a’ Ghrunnda. The limit of clag-free hill and their ambition. All in that party decided that they had spent long enough bumbling about on the Cuillin Ridge in poor weather, not to want to do it anymore. Wimps.

Katie, Jenny L, Jenny S, Graeme, Donnie and Penny TWD (Photo by Dan Moysey)

Jenny L enjoying the ridge (Photo by Dan Moysey)

Slippery when wet (Photo by Jenny Smith)

Salty sea-dog Colin Cowie, ever the original, went for a cycle ride. Probably a good option on that dull and misty day. He described some marathon pedal, taking in most of the island, but unless he uses the same chemist as Lance Armstrong, we’ll have to put it down to another long sailor’s yarn.

Evening entertainments were of a raucous and enthusiastic standard, with so many participants. Before becoming hog-whimperingly incoherent, it was good to see Mr Martin Collins entertain the troops with his fine rendition of “Come into the garden Maud”.

Saturday night in the Glen Brittle hut (Photo by Andy Lawson)

Doubtless there was much more undertaken on the Saturday and Sunday, but as your recalcitrant author never received any literary offerings, that’s your lot.

Which one’s Jake? (Photo by Dan Moysey)