Two Blondes in the bar of the Ormidale Hotel occupied Doug and myself whilst we planned our strategy for the following day. Arran Blondes that is. This was our third visit to the island since April and our two previous - failed - attempts to climb the Step had left a quiet determination.

The route is a bit of peculiarity, entirely avoidable during a traverse of the ridge but defying anyone having not climbed it to consider their traverse complete. In typical Arran style the lowly grade says little about difficulty - the committing nature of the first few moves across an angled slab and crucial footholds polished by years of traffic. Such characteristics present themselves only on closer acquaintance.

In April, driving rain and low-cloud had made the route impossible. In August, a perfect blue sky promised success, only for high-altitude winds, howling banshee-like through the massive cleft in the ridge, to reduce our experienced party to frustration and failure. But here we were again. Rapid phone calls between myself and Doug a few days before and we had seized the opportunity presented by a window of high pressure.

Two more Blondes and our plan was complete. We were determined on a sporting route, completing the full ridge traverse. After an early start, we would drive our bikes up to Sannox, leaving them there to collect at the end of our descent from the final top of Suidhe Fhear-ghas. Then back to the camp-site, collect our gear and start the long walk up Glen Rosa…...

A clear bright dawn promised a great day and by 9.00am we were well on the way up into Glen Rosa. For me, this walk always takes me back to Bill Murray's magical description of this part of the world. Every time, the sight of the magnificent Rosa Pinnacle, coming into view as you turn the dog-leg in the glen, always takes my breath away.

After the brain-numbing slog up to the south-western shoulder of Chir Mhor, we paused to eat and watch the climbers on Souwester Slab and the South Ridge Direct. They were having a great day. Then, on with the traverse round the big mountain and on up to Caisteal Abhail. In warm sun, and very little wind, we reached the top of the gap by 1.00pm.

On our previous excursions, I had found the scrambling descent easy work. Today, for no apparent reason, the exposure got to me, vertigo kicked-in, and by the time we were down on the narrow neck of rock and turf below the step, my legs and stomach were tight with tension. Adopting my usual tactic in such situations - deep and contemplative silence followed by talking drivel - we geared up. After all, its only a “diff”………

Doug led off up to the big sloping slab. It looked so much bigger now we were down underneath it. Two or three easy moves and he was standing below it. “Oh ****”, drifted down to my comfortable stance. Now Doug is one of the most confident leaders I know, silence being his usual indication of hard work-ahead. So this did not bode well. He retreated to place some protection. My favorite two-inch friend in a low-crack provided minimal confidence. This wasn't like him and my increasing concern resulted in the usual attempts at tension-relieving humor. Finally, Doug found a higher slot for a small wire and was suddenly much more comfortable. Off came his rucksack to avoid any risk of contact with the big overhang above.

“Watch me”, then a big, high, step-up, pull on a fingery edge, balance and move. He disappeared round the corner and belayed. My turn.

Up to the ledge below the step, take out the gear, step up and go for it. Right foot jammed in a crack, fingers scrabbling at the only available hold, a narrow overlap running diagonally across the slab, I pull hard, maximum body friction and suddenly I can get my left foot up on an edge, push…. stand up…… walk up the rest of the slab to the superb belay. Done it! Easy really………

Relaxing scrambling up two more short pitches followed. Where now? The crack system we were on seemed to continue up and over an edge to easy ground but the route description talked about finishing up a cleft to the summit.

An unlikely thrutch up into a narrow gully to our right offered an interesting finale to our route. Doug led-up into an almost subterranean chimney, then a final off-balance squeeze up a body-wide crack in the middle of the summit block itself.

An interesting finish, which along the way resolved the mystery of the figure just below the top of the Step in the picture in Dempsters book (pp74).

Coffee and chocolate on the summit, laughing with that nice glow of satisfaction that comes from achievement, effort and persistence! All I had to do now was write the article…..

Up, down, up the long ridge above Glen Sannox, admiring the views all the way, then teeter down the steep and broken-up “path” off Suidhe Fhear-ghas. By 5pm we were back at the main road and our bikes. Tired legs screamed at us as we peddled back to Glen Rosa. Break-camp, throw everything in the car and we made it back to Broddick in time to catch the last ferry.

As we consumed vast quantities of chicken curry and chips on the ferry, only one thought dented our overall feeling of satisfaction. Maybe we should have stayed another night with a few more Arran Blondes?