The rucksack was packed, the snow gear was ready, I was up early (for once) and the car was loaded. I turned the key. BEEEEP went the car. BEEEPING BEEEPING BEEP said I.
I wonder how many hills I can get to by driving only in straight lines?
Winter turned out not to be wintery at all, our plans of snowy ridgelines driven from our heads by the warm wind and stoating rain. New plans were formulated while making porridge under the awning of the Clachaig. MWIS said there would be ‘several hours where precipitation will be ceaseless’ which was inspiring. A walk then….
There’s a weird thing that happens when you’re camping, you revert to being a bit more primeval. Your caveman brain reasserts itself. I find that my internal security system kicks in and I always sleep with one ear open. It took me a moment to come round and realise what had set the alarm bells…
I know, it’s been quiet round here hasn’t it? There have been things. So many things that my creative boat is swamped and partially submerged. When my mojo returns, so shall this; normal service will be resumed. While you’re waiting, here is a photie of fresh air.
Here follows a tale of a trip that did not go to plan, in any way whatsoever. Peter has written it up already in his inimitable style, so if you haven’t already read that, go right ahead and do so. Phil’s done the same, so check that out. I’ll wait here till you get back….
I couldn’t get out last weekend when it was snowy and clear, but I can get out this weekend when it will be cloudy and warm. Hmmf. The clinking noise you hear is me putting my crampons back in the cupboard. Bah.
