It was the late May bank holiday. Andy and I sat in the Loch Muick car park looking out at grey clouds and drizzle. Surely this couldn't be the 30th of May? A discussion took place about whether or not to go on: this was our first big route of the year and we didn't want to miss it. However, mountaineering in Scotland is all about getting wet so please feel free to join us on our low-grade foray …

Weather continued to play a part in our discussions as we crossed the Meikle Pap col. and got our first sight of the Black Spout Buttress. There was a layer of hoar frost adorning the top section of the route (which was now out of cloud). It looked beautiful, but was not really what we wanted to see. The route is graded 'III, 5' in winter and we didn't have an ice axe between us, but we took the decision to continue: the sun would soon get up and melt the hoar, wouldn't it? We sure hoped so.

Arriving at the bottom of the route, we made our way onto the grass platform described in the guide book and prepared to gear up. It was at this point that my rucksack decided to obey Newton's laws of gravity and take a 50ft flyer off the ledge. Ten minutes and several murderous oaths later I had recovered the errant sac, all present and correct, and we were ready to start the route.

This is very much a route in two parts: the memorable upper and the forgettable lower. The guidebook describes the lower section as heavily vegetated. It is in fact an arboreal adventure with little rock in evidence and I was thinking of swapping my No3 'Camalot' for a 'strimmer'. It is almost a scramble, but given the damp conditions we reckoned that discretion was the greater part of valour and roped up. On arrival at the top of pitch 2 we were greeted with a heartening sight: the rest of the route (100% rock this time) stretching out in front of us, all signs of the hoar long since melted. Andy took the lead on pitch 3 and was soon rewarded with the primitive delights of thrutching and thugging his way up what the guide book described as a "deceptively difficult chimney" and what we would describe as another guide book understatement. As luck would have it I got the best pitch of the day: a delightful couple of walls consisting of rough granite, good holds and excellent protection in what was a magnificent situation. Just to put the icing on the cake, the upper wall even had a couple of bomber hand jams. Now I see why this route gets its star. What more could I ask for? Well, a little less cloud actually.…..

On arrival at the top of the route we wandered over to Cac Carn Beag, the summit of Lochnagar to complete what was a memorable day. Memorable that is for all except the ptarmigan which Andy, bizarrely, stood on. Whether this is a tribute to the ptarmigan's camouflage or Andy's inattention is not clear. Thankfully, all three of us lived to climb (or fly) another day.