On On the day that much of England was ‘paralysed’ by snow, northern Scotland didn’t see so much as a flurry. With an afternoon to kill, I ventured south from Inverness, following single-track roads before leaving my car at the small RSPB car park on the shores of Loch Ruthven.
Trail shoes on, I waded through prickly heather, which had encroached the already narrow path to the rocky summit. As a run, 430-metre Stac Gorm had little to recommend it. The heather made it slow going and left my shins and knees bleeding. Still, to be standing on a windswept summit, surrounded by hills, on a Monday afternoon beat being at work.