|
| |
Last and First, First and Last (Big Al, October 6th,
2003)
September 13th, Beinn Ime, my last Munro and my eight-year-old son Calum’s first. I loved the day, but believe it or not was totally stressed out about how it was all going to turn out….Who would come? Who wouldn’t? The weather? The route? How would my boys do? What was the hall like? Have I got enough food? and drink? Would people have a good time? Will folk stay over? Worry-worry-worry fret-fret-fret.
Of course in the end it was fine, 30 great friends on the hill, albeit on a misty but thankfully dry day. The only slight disappointment was that wee Craig and hence Maureen couldn’t make it. The champers, the stella, the malts, the handshakes, the hugs, the gags, the one-liners, the photies. Back to the excellent Cairndow Hall for a superb night. Naff speeches, great company, superb chilli, bevvy galore, music, dancing, ping-pong, marigolds and mops, walking on water, and so much more.
And afterwards the strange sense of ‘compleation emptiness’ and/or ‘empty completeness’, very difficult to explain, so I won’t even bother to try….but…. ‘What now?’ nearly if not neatly sums it up.
First
September 26th 2003, Beinn Ime again, this time on a fine day with Maureen. I thought it was a good idea since Mo had to go back down with Craig on the 13th. The ‘First Munro’ of a second round I know that I’ll never compleat. Was it really only a dozen or so days ago we were all up here? It was my third time lucky on this hill, my ‘first’ time being w a y b a c k in my early padding days when we got to the wee cairn not 100 feet away from me now and retreated from the hill on a miserable dank wet day thinking we had the hill in the bag….only to see from the Cobbler the following weekend on a clear day that we hadn’t reached the true summit. I decided to leave it for my ‘last’. Today was superb, hundreds of the buggers over on the Cobbler and only two of us on Beinn Ime. Magic.
Last
Cruach Ardrain, 4th October 2003. Anoif’s Last Munro, aka Fiona, from the Kyle Mountain Club. Fiona, who along with her worse-half Gordon, aka Nodrog who we had met and befriended on a drunken, laughter-filled night in Shenavall in May this year. A fine bunch, the Kyle. Very ‘Traditional’. All happy-to-be-on-the-hill-together type of thing. Unlike the Rannoch who are more All-happy-to-be-burning-your-arse-off-on-the-hill type of thing. Lots of similarities as well mind you….er…..em……let me see……eh…….oh yes they like a wee drink occasionally and a bit of banter, purely medicinal and ‘jusht to be shoshiable’ of course.
There are some differences also…Kyle – they set off together up the hill early. Rannoch – go for a fry-up first, then set off up the hill last, but still get up the hill first. Kyle – on the hill they wait for everyone to catch up first before moving on, Rannoch – Last up the hill is a diddy. Kyle – Fiona, the first of The Kyle onto her last summit cairn to the rapturous applause of her 40+ supporters (if you know what I mean). Rannoch – Last off the summit after the celebration swally. Kyle - an enjoyable saunter down the hill chatting to ones friends and acquaintances. Rannoch – race down the hill with sprint finish, except Bish who was last and kept everyone waiting (as usual). Kyle – back to the Hall for wash & brush up, Rannoch – First into the pub and last to leave. Kyle – Tradition First, Finest Malt Whisky doing the rounds. Pass the Quaich! Rannoch – Tradition Last, Fuck the Quaich! Gimme a Stella and pass the
sickbag.
Click to enlarge
And finally….
…a brief summary of a conversation I had with Jimmy ‘Unfathomumble’ of the Kyle at approximately 5.00 am…
Me: “Hi Jimmy how’s it going? Did you enjoy the day?”
Jimmy: “Herra zagonnny whittyach jeezoman harrumph yadda yadda ochmaboz ken?”
Me: “ Eh? Sorry?”
Jimmy: “Gruffa heebly beebly Kyle harrararrarrarr squachle hills fuckin aye rassafrass man ken?
Me: “What?”
Jimmy: “Sonsie furra burra Kyle ach awayya blabba blabba Munro achforfachafachfach gruffler ken?”
Me: “Eh….aye right Jimmy…. Jeezo mate….need to go….that’s my Stella about to boil over….and stop calling me Ken”
[Skedaddle stage right]
(probably better than entering from the
rear. WebEd.)
Big Al
October 6th
|
