Despite the 6,000ft ascent made directly from Argentiere, I was keen to revisit the remarkable ridge which leads to the Bec Rouge Supérieur, overshadowed by the Aiguille du Chardonnet.

Joining Bel Oiseau and Fontanabran is a ridge that reminded me of the Aonach Eagach, its narrow crest twisting in switchback back turns high above the Émosson Dam.

Despite taking both stages of the lift from Le Tour, taking in Les Grandes Otanes and Pointe des Berons gave well over 3,000ft of ascent, the ridge itself runnable in places but exposed and awkward in others with the odd gendarme to pass - probably no more than Grade 3 scrambling but thought provoking, nonetheless.

A long climb, mercifully on mostly wooded slopes to the western end of the ridge beneath Pointe de la Chalette, and then on passing numerous summits, to Le Brevént, and a direct descent from there to Chamonix. Hard going in 33°C.

After numerous trips to the Alps which included an equally numerous number of failed attempts to climb one route or another, as well as few more succesful ascents, there followed a gap of almost two decades before I returned to Argentiére. The first trip back was a fleeting affair, sufficient time to reacqauint myself with the valley and a couple of minor summits as well as Mont Buet’s north ridge which proved to be an excellent run. With more time available on my second trip back, there was greater opportunity to reflect on the changes that were now starkly obvious all around.

As many others have said of the southern end of the Cuillin Ridge, were it to be found anywhere else, it would be among the most sought after traverses in Scotland. Its fate is to be almost entirely overshadowed by what lies beyond. But for those willing to seek out the lines less travelled, there is no shortage of those quintessential qualities for which the main ridge is famed, and it remains one of the great mountain days to be had anywhere, in Scotland or beyond.

With the Cuillin Ridge clagged in and between increasingly heavy downpours, the traverse of Macleod’s Tables proved a fitting alternative, despite a false start or three.

If the traverse of Clach Glas and Blà Bheinn is one of the best mountaineering days to be had in Scotland, the traverse of Blà Bheinn alone is not without merit, especially for the runner happy to complete the remaining miles to Elgol on the coastal path.

In February ‘25, following the launch of Northern Horizons at the Fort William Mountain Festival, Kim and I had set out for Sgurr Nan Coireachan intent on completing the classic horseshoe including Sgurr Thuilm. In the event, rapidly deteriorating weather and a painful back spasm resulted in an early retreat from the first Munro. I’d run over both summits previously but having yet to join the two, I was keen to complete the round.

The most southerly Munro and a more popular hill than those I would typically choose to run, but it suited our purpose on this day, and with the corries full of snow, it seemed a good day on which to do it.

A minor classic, the round of Lochnagar and the White Mounth, more often referred to simply as ‘The Circuit’, offers the runner that peculiar combination of high summits and remarkably easy ground so characteristic of the Cairngorms. Which is not to say that more difficult, technical running does not exist, nor that a few boulder fields will not have to be crossed. But in general, the going is good, and fast — unless attempted on day when a rapid thaw is in progress and the hard névé of weeks gone by is consigned to memory.

A sublime morning - though the clag met us in cold embrace at the top of the crag - testing a new lens on the perfect rock of Wistow Crags, a grade 2 /3 scramble on the southern flank of Pillar above Mosedale.

My last trip north didn't go well. It didn't go at all actually. The apparently annual back spasm while loading the car left me watching in dismay as one of the best winter weather windows in years slipped away. Nearly two months later and I'm just getting back to it...so despite its brevity, there was no way I was missing this one.

The publication of Northern Horizons was in many ways, the realisation of a lifetime’s ambition. And if being shortlisted for an award at Banff seemed surreal, taking the guidebook category win was simply beyond anything I’d imagined at any point in the years of graft that went into its production.

There is a long list of people who deserve my thanks, not only for their help and guidance during those years, but for contributing to what culminated in an incredible week in Banff and the chance to meet some of those who have inspired me since childhood.

Northern Horizons has been selected as the Guidebook category winner in the 2025 Banff Mountain Book Competition.

Paul Scully, Banff jury member, said: “A lyrical and inspiring journey into the heart of the Cumbrian and Scottish mountains. Will Herman’s beautifully crafted work is as much a memoir as it is a guidebook — a seamless blend of essays and exploration. With stunning photographs and evocative descriptions, it invites readers not just to see the landscape, but to feel it.

“At its core, the book centres the deep and evolving relationship between person and place, encouraging a reflective, almost meditative engagement with the mountains. It stirs a longing for wild spaces and makes you dream of setting off into the hills yourself.”

Today, I met Bob.

I’ve said it before, but here it is again: the further from the road you meet people, the more interesting a story they are likely to tell.

It is a relative thing. In this case, merely two miles. But two steep miles. And the first two of many more for Bob, who’d caught a bus, run to the top of Great Whernside - where Kim and I met him at the trig in glorious autumnal sunshine - and would continue alone for many more across the Dales before catching a different bus home. Bob is 70 something.

The Fisherfield 6 - the round of five Munros and one Corbett, is something akin to a rite of passage among hill goers. It’s a big day out and traditionally the distance is reduced by spending a night or two at Shenavall after approaching from Dundonnell. The alternative, and a good one if intent solely on Mullach Coire Mhic Fearchair and Beinn Tarsuinn, is to ride in from Kinlochewe. I didn’t have the bike, but decided a few miles running on the flat wouldn’t do me any harm. I also decided at the last minute to take the summits in an anticlockwise direction, and approach Mullach Coire Mhic Fearchair via Sgurr Dubh, which would be a new top for me. It proved to be the best of the day with a short section of airy scrambling reminiscent of the Aonach Eagach and a lovely ridge between the summits.

In another seemingly surreal turn of events, Northern Horizons has been shortlisted as a finalist among the eight categories that will be recognised at the 50th anniversary Banff Centre Mountain Film and Book Festival.

The idea was one of those that wormed its way into my subconscious over a number of years after first reading of Alec Keith’s round, completed in 1998. Rather unexpectedly, and in what might generously be described as sub-optimal condition for such a route, I found myself setting out to repeat this, the most northerly of the long distance rounds documented by Scottish Hill Runners, almost exactly 27 years after Keith’s inaugural round.

Overshadowed by the Aiguille du Chardonnet, Bec Rouge Supérieur is easily overlooked, but offers a challenging run from Argentière, including some 6,000ft of ascent and wonderful views across the Aiguille Verte and Les Droites to one side, and the Aiguille du Tour on the other.