John Chivall, Outdoor Instructor

Emily and I took advantage of a rare weekend day together to get in  a short walk near Arrochar. It was cold and foggy in Glasgow, but I knew that if we could get above the cloud we would find some sunshine.

Leaving the car at the Rest and Be Thankful car park, we headed off into the gloom, taking the opportunity to practise some navigation:

Emily navigating through the mist

As we gained height, we broke out of the cloud layer into brilliant sunshine:

Ben Donich appears above the inversion layer

For the next hour we picked our way up broad grassy ramps between the numerous crags on the hillside, pausing every so often to admire the views. The layer of cold air filling the bottom of Glen Croe was very stable, and we could see a huge, uncannily static wave of cloud towering between the Cobbler and Ben Donich. This did not dissipate in the time we could see it, an interesting example of fluid dynamics, albeit one I forgot to photograph!

Stopping to admire the view (photo: Emily Rodway)

By the time we reached the upper part of the face, we were in cloud again, and a stiff wind was chilling us rapidly. Stopping only to add some layers by the frozen lochan on the small plateau at 820m,  we turned north and followed the well-worn path up the final narrow ridge to gain the summit of the hill.

Emily above the summit cliffs, waiting for the clouds to drop away.

We found a spot sheltered from the wind and settled down to eat our lunch, but as we did so I could see the light brightening and the mist above our head turning bluer and bluer. Remembering similar conditions on Ben Nevis a few weeks ago and not wanting to miss out on a potential spectacle, we rushed over to the top of the buttresses above the northern corrie of the hill, and spent 10 minutes dancing about trying to keep warm in the wind while waiting for our opportunity. A group of four walkers heading up from the north gave us funny looks before they joined us at the edge just as the top of the cloud layer lowered enough for the sun to cast our shadows onto the mists below. Each of us saw just our own shadow, magnified by perspective, legs and arms out of proportion and a shimmering multicoloured halo around just our head. A Brocken Spectre and Glory!

Some people are unlucky enough to go their whole lives without seeing this natural phenomenon. You need the right combination of a high point, bright sunlight, and mist just below. As the cloud top rose and fell, the spectres faded and appeared again, until eventually the show was over.

There were a few easy-angled patched of hard melt-freeze snow about which we used for practising ice-axe arrests before heading down the way we'd come. The mist had cleared by now, and our whole descent was enhanced by the wonderful light and views down the glens. We reached the car by half past three, a short day out, but one filled with natural beauty.

Ben Ime and its siblings rise above Loch Restil (photo: Emily Rodway)

Glen Croe holds on to the last of the morning's mists (photo: Emily Rodway)

Added 21:55 13/12/09:

We also saw this strange "cloud bow" on cloouds near the horizon to the north as we descended. We could see it for almost all of our descent, until the clouds it was on dissipated. Does anybody know what it is?

Cloud bow?