Cocoa and biscuits in Aird Bheag cottage.

How do you start a Leader's Report? As I sit at my desk, looking out on an early morning Durham mist, Aird Bheag seems a long way away. Memories flood back: the horrible feeling of muddy wetness as I was dropped in the stream; the gnawing tension waiting for Vanguard to arrive with the stores; the calm and tranquillity as I sat on a rock looking out into the grey, heaving, Atlantic swell. Those were the days'.

When Bot first mentioned to me the prospect of leading Lewis 1970 the reality of the situation did not really hit me. Not even during the seemingly endless evenings of synthetic smile letters, 'Dear Mr and Mrs Gruntfuttock, I'm delighted that your pet mule, Algernon ... etc’ did I fully realise what I had let myself in for. Lewis 1970 had its moments of near disaster and, I think, more frequently, its moments of great enjoyment. Each of us will remember different events. My everlasting memory will be meeting twenty-nine other indi­viduals who could not have been better for the Expedition if I had cast the moulds myself. We got on well together.

Of course, we had our troubles. When Vanguard did not arrive with the stores, and we had to spend a foodless night in the croft, I was not on top of the world. Fortunately, our contingency plans worked and the premature ending of the Expe­dition was avoided! Also, when Tim Edwards became ill and Doc Tim thought it could be mumps, the officers were not a picture of happiness. Again, we survived the minor crisis, and luckily Dr. Mathieson was found and treated him. It is at moments like these that one tends to attempt soul-searching investigations for coming on S.H.S. Expeditions. But we keep coming back for more.

Start of the bread slog!

Labelled as 'Lighting up failure, Lewis'!

Activities on Lewis this year followed similar patterns to previous years. We climbed, canoed, rowed, boulder-rolled, chased a sheep, started and attempted to complete projects, sang (some better than others), discussed the world and its problems and basically enjoyed ourselves. Camp Spirit was good, camp food was excellent, projects could have been much better, and the weather - well! at least we did have a couple of very good days with actual sunshine.

We were lucky this year to have an excellent group of officers. Of course, words fail me on the brilliance of the leader. There was Roger W with his superb admin, and food; Tim H treating all and sundry with aspirin and swift humour; Roger E working very hard and a constant  inspiration to potential climbers; Mark R with his banana jokes and enthusiasm; John M never tiring of ferrying people across the loch. Thank you very much. This thanks should be extended to the twenty-four people, without whom the Expedition would have been very foolish. Forgive my threats of ‘strop’, and accept my gratitude for working and laughing so hard.

Lobster pots Loch Tamanway Aug 1970

Inspecting Lobster pots, Loch Tamanaway, Lewis Aug 1970

The camp site at Aird Bheag Lewis, Aug 1970

 The boat house at Aird Bheag

Crossing Tamanway River, Lewis.

Inside the Aird Bheag croft.

Aird Bheag kitchen 1970

 Beehive huts near Loch Resort

Fishing in 'Rock Bottom'

A view of Lewis

THE CLIMBING BIVVY

"How far are we going to walk, John?"

"Only about two miles up the valley; I'm not walking any more!"

So, with these encouraging words, Chris Knight, Roger Evans John Marchment and myself set out on a bivvy which was to be an experience, to say the least.

We were ferried across the loch from Aird Bheag in Soak Bottom by Roger Weatherley and George S.S. after waiting for hours for their return from taking the canoe bivvy's gear.

We reached the other side of the loch and bade farewell to the boat and its crew, and set off. The first mile was fine, but as the trek wore on, backs and calves started aching. We covered about two miles to a plateau, and then stopped for a breather. After a while we continued up over a ridge and down to the camp-site, which turned out to be a soggy bed of moss.

The tents were pitched, the gear unpacked and stowed away, and John and Roger started cooking the meal. All went well until we came to eat it ..

"Where are the spoons, Roger?" "Oh .. well ... er ....'.!"

Evans had boobed.  So we ate our soup with digestive biscuits, chunks of bread, cocoa-tin lids, etc. and the rest of the meal with our fingers.

John and Roger went on a recce after tea; Chris went to sleep, while I did the washing-up! At about half-past ten, after scaling the north face of a 5 ft. boulder, we retired too our sleeping bags.

Next morning we set off up the mountain, intending to climb to the top, but when we started the weather was so bad that we were climbing, literally, with our heads in the clouds. Halfway up the second pitch, John and Chris decided to do some mountain shifting, with a giant boulder as their victim. The weather slowly deteriorated until Roger called it a day, and we descended to find John and Chris already drying out. Chris and I raided the Horlicks rations, bread and soup, and numerous bars of chocolate.

There we stayed until 4.0 pm. when we broke camp and headed back for the 'ranch’

- SIMON MANNING

The climbing Bivvy, leaving Aird Bheag