This recounts an incident on the Buachaille at New Year. To get on with the story, it was a good day (for Scotland, i.e. not a raging Blizzard), when the four of us (me, my Dad, his friends Jack and Jill*) set off for an easy day on Curve Ridge. (Easy day on Scottish mountains! Shouldn't that set alarm bells ringing?) There wasn't much snow but lots of water ice, so this made getting into Crowberry Basin interesting. We laboured up to what we thought was the start of the climb, which indeed it was, but Jill suggested that the buttress to our right looked more like the route. We didn't argue after all they'd been up the ridge before. We scrambled across a gully onto the other buttress. At this point the footprints became scarce but that wasn't too worrying (yet).
After lunch we began climbing as two pairs, but its was harder than we expected so we ended up climbing as a four. On something that was quite tricky with about 4 hrs of daylight left climbing as a four was not the best idea. The lack of footprints and the and the fact that we weren't right under Rannoch wall, began to be disconcerting. The realisation that this was not where we were supposed to be gradually took hold. Still we pressed on. The next pitch looked pretty difficult and there was some tat where someone had abseiled into the gully. We or rather our intrepid leader Jack decided that we were taking too long and that we should do likewise. Jack disappeared into the gully and started off up it. We followed likewise. At this point things took a turn for the worse. As I was retrieving the rope it got tangled in a big way and jammed. With an hour's daylight left this wasn't good. Anyway we got onto Curve Ridge, and decided as there was a rock pitch to try Easy Gully next to it, but this was blocked by a huge chockstone. A brief debate ensued, was it going to be quicker to up or go down? As the ground looked easier below and we had no idea how far up we were, it was decided to go down (yet .html fateful decision). Like most ideas that day at first it seemed like a good idea, but as it got steeper and darker, maybe it wasn't such a good idea. With three torches between us (two of them small), abseiling into black voids was quite exciting. Especially when one of the stances was a little ledge not big enough for four people half way down some steep buttress .
After several abseils we stopped on a wide ledge and checked out the time.We all thought it was about 9.3 0 pm, but in fact it was I 1. 3 0 pm. From here we traversed the mountain to find an easier way down, but everything looked impossible steep and full of ice. So we stopped and had the remains of the flask of coffee, which turned out to be cold, this was most devastating, as I had been looking forward to it for the past couple of hours
Standing on our ledge we debated what to do. (At this point I spied a car on the road flashing its headlights at the mountain, it then drove away to the Kingshouse, which seemed tantalisingly near.) A decision was reached to have .html look for a way down but this too proved fruitless. Our torches were now down to one and a bit, so we decided that maybe we should settle down for the night and look in the morning. Suddenly all hell broke loose. Down on the road cars had steadily been arriving. A blue flashing was seen, followed by a red flare which made the mountain glow. Out of the gloom, a loudspeaker bellowed, "Are you injured?" The realisation struck, that it was the mountain rescue team. Where they talking to us? The loud speaker repeated the question, then said flash one for no and two for yes. We replied no. "Are you cragfast?" came the next question. "Yes" we replied. "How many headtorches have got?" Sheepishly we flashed back one. "Stay where you are, we will be with you in half an hour" More flares spotlights and half an hour later the first of the rescue team arrived (the speed of their arrival astonished even the hardened fellrunners in the party.)Before we knew where we were we were being escorted off the mountain. Half an hour later we were back at the road, without having even roped UP.
We thanked the rescue team. Glad to be down, but feeling very embarrassed, especially for my Dad and Jack, complaining "Thirty years in the Mountains without having to be rescued until now." The warmth of the hut and the 'wee dram' were very welcome. We couldn't have expected the two lads staying the hut to have done anything other than raise the alarm, for all the knew we could have been in real mess somewhere on the mountain. It's all experience and at least no one was injured.
*N.B. The names have been changed to protect the "innocent".