A Winter Tranter’s Round – Andy Berry

INOV8 ambassador Andy Berry recently challenged himself to an impromptu winter Tranter's Round in the mountains of Scotland. Roughly 40 miles with around 22,000ft of ascent, the route includes 18 Munros summits. Andy tackled it solo and unsupported, enjoying an epic winter adventure. Read his story below.

At times, inspiration is a slow burn, at others, it can hit you like a sledgehammer. Watching the dots run up the Pennine Way on this year's Spine Race and going out for two nights consecutively to see different runners and provide drinks and encouragement to them was the latter – a sledgehammer of inspiration to me. I wanted my own adventure, but I didn’t want to wait 12 months to do the Spine, so I needed to find something. Although at this point it wasn’t in the plan, so I put it to the back of my mind. Winter this year was a time for short races and building the foundation for what's to come in 2023.

The following weekend, I was driving over to the Lake District with my son to go hiking, and it was then that a daydream started to take hold for an adventure that it might be possible to run, without putting too much damage in. That's when the thought of a Tranter’s Round first set in. One text to my partner later and the wheels were in motion for all that follows….

The Tranter’s Round is a circuit starting and finishing at the Nevis Youth Hostel (Fort William, Scotland) and taking in the ridges of the Mamores, the Grey Corries, the Aonachs, and finally to Ben Nevis itself via Carn Mor Dearg. It's a beautiful link up of 18 Munros (+1 that was declassified in 1997). There have been only a handful of winter attempts, and all those that have been undertaken, I imagine were done so in such varying conditions that it is difficult to compare. But I feel confident in saying that each will have had their own epic adventure.

On the January 27th we set off, bound for Fort William. Across Rannoch Moor the rain was blowing against the windscreen and I hoped that it wouldn’t be like this when I came to start, whatever else happened after starting I could deal with! Fortunately, the weather forecast was right, and the early alarm paid dividends. As I slid the door of the van open at about 3am, I was greeted to a clear starry sky – it was going to be a great start to the day. Ambling along to the youth hostel to start, checking my pack was sitting comfy, shoes felt right, and everything settled in where it should be. A last faff about and I pressed go… 3.24 am.

Nailing the path from the road through the trees to the forest track felt good, as I had messed this early part up on my Ramsay Round in September much to my frustration that day. No such problem today and I was soon off up to my first summit going anti-clockwise.

The cloud blew in by Stob Ban (#1) fortunately it was not difficult to navigate in, being only a light cloud coming in and out. It did, however, create a lovely eerie atmosphere in my torch light. The Devil’s Ridge was my first taste of how my day would be conditions-wise. The ridge was in fine form with solid consolidated snow, allowing me to pick myself along effectively, staying high to avoid the steep icy névé. I was pleased that the strong wind that was forecast for the day was not here yet.

The descent of Am Bodach bought my first Hail Mary moment, as my foot slipped from under me. Before I knew it, I was hurtling down the icy slope. Axe in hand, I managed to dig it into the ground pushing as much weight into it as I could. Only when I felt myself slowing down did I dare to peer over my shoulder into the darkness to see what I was sliding towards. Thank goodness, just more white as far as I could see, no edges nearby! I relaxed as I came to a halt. Okay I thought, descents need even more care than the ascents!

That was as exciting as the Mamores got, the rest was a pleasure cruise through floating snow from the sky to the firm névé underfoot. After the final summit on the south side of the valley, the sun finally peaked out for the first time. Scotland was showing off now; a deer on the horizon, snow-capped peaks all around, and I hadn’t seen a soul yet all day. Solitude, beauty and winter mountains – a perfect first half of my day.

The climb up Stob Ban (#2) was as sloggy as the map suggested, but thankfully it was over sooner than anticipated. On the summit I was greeted with the first people of the day. Quick pleasantries were exchanged and off I went to the Grey Corries. These were just perfect, the sun came back out, and the running was sublime, each peak was just ticking off almost without thought. I’d been mildly concerned by the descent off Stob Coire an Laoigh, but happily the scree was still above the snow enough to provide plenty of grip. By the time it wasn’t, the gradient had softened and it was easily runnable. A steady ascent of Sgurr Choinnich Mor, chopping steps between patches of rock, proved quite therapeutic and didn’t take long at all. But I knew what was coming, the crux of my day at the next top.

I had deliberately not set my watch to show me how long I had been out, this wasn’t about how long it took, but more about the journey along the way. I had estimated it could take anything from 12 hours to 18 hours when discussing with my partner about safety protocols, but I knew by the light of the day that I was moving at the faster end of that at this point. My priority was to push hard when it was safe to do so, but to take my time when safety required care, this was my balance for the day. It was about to be put to the test.

As I came around the traverse towards the climb onto the Aonach Beag ridge line, I knew I was staring at a bit of a shit sandwich. As I saw it, I had four options: 1. Go down the valley and have the long run back down Glen Nevis; 2. Under the crags and up a large snow wall; 3. Up a snow packed gulley or 4. A rocky scramble followed by a short snow wall.

I had pondered long and hard about the gear I had taken before finally settling on one axe. This was my first regret. I had also decided against buying the lightweight crampons, with the cost of everything in life at the moment it seemed an unnecessary purchase, my second regret. I didn’t want to give in without trying though, so I broke it down and concluded that the least amount of snow I had to deal with the better. This bought me to option 4. A scramble then short snow wall. It had to be worth a shot.

I worked my way up the rock comfortably and was soon within about 15m of my goal, the ridge line. The first 12m were okay gradient and with steps cut in I made steady progress up to the last part. The last 3m was near vertical, and I couldn’t see what was over the edge above me. I chopped a series of deeper holes for my feet and left hand, tested the first with my foot, then went for it.

Standing up onto it I buried my axe as far as I could reach with my right hand and got a firm fist around it and gave it a test. *Deep breath*, two moves away from having this done, I lifted my right foot up into the other pre-made hole as a small test and then I pushed up. Pulling on the axe and pushing through my foot I peered over the edge for the first time. Pure relief as I looked at a firm piece of névé, perfect to pull on with my left hand. Left foot over the top and it was done. Phew, I sat down (on a solid rock, the joy!) and treated myself to a small can of Fanta I’d saved for a special pick-me-up while I finished my sushi, never feeling more alive.

The weather had turned now, and the wind and freezing snow were blowing across the Aonachs, to give me one last test. The descent from Aonach Mor was steep and icy, I took my time; keen not to test my guardian angel any more on the day. I slowly made my way from rocky patch to grass and so on, until close to the bottom and using small, controlled slides with my axe as a brake, I got to the bottom of the climb to Carn Mor Dearg.

For the first time I thought I may do this. A controlled yet fun trip along the CMD arête followed, with the cairn showing the end of the ridge appearing surprisingly quickly. One final climb up the back of the Ben, and I popped out onto the summit, to the obvious surprise of the numerous groups of climbers up there sorting out their ropes.

After a quick exchange of pleasantries about our respective days, I touched my final cairn of the day and set off on my last descent. Before I knew it, I was back down to the youth hostel. I stopped my watch…. 5.09pm, I had managed to get done before it got dark again. 13 hours 45 minutes and 18 seconds after starting I was finished.

Walking back to the van I sent a few texts saying I was down safe, got into some dry clothes and closed the door on my adventure. Tired legs, full heart, big smiles. On to the next one.