Aonach Eagach Ridge, Glen Coe

I agreed to do a "hill walk" with some mates the day after my work leaving do. I thought a hangover would be the major challenge but it turned into a whole other adventure. A pretty scary one, but we were very lucky and it has a good ending. This picture really doesn't do it justice - the scary bits or the view.

I didn't know we were headed for the thinnest ridge in the Uk

Chris works out in Liberia with a charity so was only back for August. This was his birthday and he wanted to get out on the hills. It sounded great to me, even with a hangover and another leaving party (this time for my Edinburgh friends) that evening. We'd set off early, we'd be back in time and the hills are what I needed to get some perspective.

It came, but not how I expected. Val I hadn't seen in ages and Sheen Masheen you probably all know. She brought along her lovely childhood friend Elfreda who was over from Denmark. Mainly Chris and Val chose the route, an old workmate of their's was meant to accompany us and was familiar with the route - but he pulled out last minute, so we bought a map on the way and headed up through torrential rain. I should have realised their sense of relative risk was a bit whack from running about war zones and jungles. The forecast was ropey but the skies cleared once we were out the cars. A near miracle and a big part of the luck that got us down safe.

We started at the carpark at Achnambeithach and rose easily in an hour through the first part (would recommend it, wasn't too hard and views were great) buoyed on by this and meeting some other walkers we moved slowly over the first few pinnacles. Elfreda and Sheen would admit they aren't the greatest with heights. They were incredibly brave to face this fear over and over during the course of the day. The climbs were tricky, but made much harder by the vertiginous slopes that fell below them; a long, long, way below. The walk became scramble and morphed into proper climbing as we struggled over the pinnacle parts of the ridge. When you are hanging by your toes and searching for finger sized grips up a sheer face.. yup that's climbing. With no ropes, free climbing up a ridge turned out to be a great hangover cure. All signs of headache and sickness evaporated in the adrenalin.

I had the weird experience of remembering that I could do it. My dad used to take us out a lot when we were kids. We'd scale wee cliffs and hills all the time, usually with scarves tied round our waists linked to his backpack "for safety". A few years back I did some indoor climbing and it all came back to me that day. I even forgotten I like heights. There's something pretty primal about hanging by your toes or finding a wee rest point in a crevice. My body knew it better than my brain, so I just had to switch the adult off and turn up the kid climbing trees. Loved it, even the stomach churning moments when you launch off one hold unsure of the next. The only way to do it is to find a natural confidence like a kid, not bottling it like a clumsy grown-up.

We were lucky with the weather, it cleared up nicely and there wasn't a breath of wind. The views were spectacular. Ben Nevis on our right, the rest of Glen Coe rolling on into blue hills, shining lochs and the white sea to our left. Had it been any worse (wind or rain) the climbs would have been impossible.

After seven or eight pinnacle climbs, of varying vertical difficulty, we got to one near the end that jutted up from the hillside like a canine tooth We just couldn't take Sheen and Elfreda across safely, or maybe any of us. With no ropes it would have madness. So we had to turn back and reverse the whole exercise, going down each climb we'd struggled up. A harder exercise and a tad deflating. It became obvious that I wasn't going to make it back for the leaving party I had planned in Edinburgh for my mates, but it didn't matter all that much at the time. We were just focussed on trying to get back safely.

We got as far as the first pinnacle and realised we couldn't get down it either. We were stuck. We considered various options, and took the pretty risky decision to head off the path down some skree. In doing this it meant no one would know where we were, but it also seemed the safer way to get lower down to an "easier" way down.

After a couple of hours sliding down a semi avalanche of gravel (at one point val triggered a proper rock fall had to surf it out) we realised the skree ended in two sheer cliffs and an unclimable waterfall (30 ft waterfall drop). I remember switching my phone off to preserve the battery in case we needed it and calculating how much food we had. I had a torch and some emergency gear but a night out there would have been dicey. I started acting the clown to keep Elfreda and sheen's spirits up, but every once in a while I'd catch val and Chris's eye and it was obvious we were in a bit of trouble. It took another hour to find a way to cross the waterfall, free climb a heathery cliff and scramble down some bracken.

Just as we reached the bracken the sun went down and the heavens opened. But we could see the road and see the car park by then. We got down and had a huge group hug to finally express the fear and relief we'd all been feeling.

At this point it was 21:30 and we had a 3 hours drive to Edinburgh for my do that started at 8pm. I tried to send messages to friends, but not everyone knew each other so it was hard to get a message through. Instead of the fancy bar affair, I moved it to the local boozer and made it there about 1am. A few folk were still out. Thank goodness for festival drinking hours. We all ended up back at mine drinking till the shakes stopped.