A-Team to Aviemore!

Fat man strokes Bongo. Disturbing.

"Where's the nearest KFC?"

"You sure there isn't a 1000 ft drop the other side of this ridge?"

I must have been drunk.

Although intoxication is a fairly regular part of my life, the repercussions are normally limited to a bit of a headache, a morning horn, and a strange desire for Irn Bru. It’s very rare they include purchasing inappropriate vehicular transportation devices.

My mate Alex does this, he gets drunk, wakes up hungover and spends money he can’t afford on ridiculous purchases. But even he has never bought a Mazda Bongo on a whim.

The Bongo has a ridiculous name, which is kind of appropriate given the appearance of the thing. It has a massive bull bar on the front, 7 seats (very useful for a single guy), huge spotlights, a roof tent and electric everything. It has a passing resemblance to the A-team van, although I look more like Harold Bishop than BA Baracus. Never mind.

The purchase of the Bongo has con-incided with a work trip to the Caledonian Canal, so I head North up the A9 and watch the fuel gauge move rapidly downhill. Hmm.

Thursday night is spent chez Bongo at Muirtown Basin car park, Inverness, and by the evening I have travelled to Fort William via several site visits. The economy has improved considerably having over-inflated the tyres to 40 PSI and formed an aerodynamic nose cone from oatcakes and Highland Toffee. I drive to Newtonmore to pick Jon up off the train, and we head up to Aviemore for the night.

A suitable overnight parking spot is found on the banks of Loch Morlich, where we consume cheap cider and I begin to wish I’d brought Nadine from Girls Aloud along for the ride rather than Jon. Jon sleeps in the roof tent, dreaming of Bonnie Langford. Which is a bit wrong, because she must be at least 65 by now.

Those lovely chaps at Mountain Spirit Aviemore had organised a demo day on the slopes for Saturday, so we make haste for the thin strips of snow stretching bleakly down Cairngorm. Cairngorm Mountain Ltd seem to have mistaken Jon or I for the Sultan of Brunei (It must be the effect of driving a Bongo) and charge us £28 for lift passes. We are considerably poorer, but the demo day is excellent. I try telemarking (A much better experience than the last time on Ebay skis at Glenshee) and ski mountaineering. Top guys.

An overnight space is found next to a worryingly high River Spey, and we head off into the town to consume a few pints and buy the Mountain Spirit dudes a beer.

Being British, I am very good at binge-drinking. I consider it my duty to uphold this fine tradition. However, either I had a dodgy peanut during the evening or one of the beers was off, as the next morning both Jon and I have hangovers you could sell for scientific research purposes. It is a struggle to get to Mountain Spirit, where I hire Mountaineering skis as a distraction while Jon steals espressos from their machine. It is 11 before we make a start.

Hangovers notwithstanding, the day is ace. We skin up the Fiacaill Ridge, and onto the vast wilderness of the Cairngorm Plateau. Visibility is excellent in between snow showers, and we drink in the view of Ben Macdui and friends before dropping gently down towards Loch Etchachan. After a moderate decent we head round the back of Cairngorm and skin up what I think is the Marquis Well, although my knowledge is patchy. Jon insists we head to the summit and I curse him and my still-present hangover as I slip over on a rocky patch.

The cloud lifts as we head off the summit towards the ski area, and views are spectacular. Half an hour is spent in the Ptarmigan restaurant, warming up and avoiding the Cairngorm Mountain Security staff screaming “PICNIC ESS VERBOTEN!” as we surupticiously eat our sandwiches. The last run of the day is down the West Wall, which although part of the ski area is closed today due to lack of snow at the bottom. There is only a hundred yards of walking, however, and we are able to skin up another closed run called “Over Yonder”, from where a short easy walk back to the car park can be had. The Bongo is waiting!