Rannoch Mountaineering Club 

www.climbrannoch.co.uk

The Rannoch Dinner Meet, 2003 - A Non-Member's Perspective, by Shaz

(Written in the haze which followed the Rannoch Dinner Meet 2003 -  unpublished - until now, March 2004, yes – March 2004)

As the tear-stained faces of Mr C (Birthday Boy) and the three children became as tiny dots through the rear window, there was a fleeting pang of guilt - which quickly faded into insignificance as I remembered I was off to the legendary Rannoch Dinner Meet.  After months of subtly cultivating a pleasant and sociable persona for myself in various dodgy chat rooms, I had managed to wangle an invite to this historic event, which had been my aim all along.

Mr C (spouse of Shaz) - enjoying his Birthday alone.

Disgraceful                                                yet commendable               arf arf The Shaz Family in rear view mirror

Yes, we were finally on our way and in a few short hours we would be safely ensconced in a charming highland hotel, sipping wine with the locals and looking forward to the arrival of the rest of the gang.  Three minutes later, we screeched to a halt at my local Tesco's store - the store where everyone knows your (my) name.  To my horror, I realised that Bish, Rhona and Gavin were about to embark on a shopping spree.  I successfully managed to keep at least three aisles between myself and my travelling companions lest my reputation as a fine upstanding citizen of this sleepy north Stirlingshire town  be compromised.  I watched from a safe distance as Bish revealed his scars to various friends and neighbours in the checkout queue and finally we all made a quick getaway onto the A9.

Our next stop was Aviemore and the very pleasant Bridge Inn for liquid refreshment.  As luck would have it, they had public internet access and Webmaster Gav able to update those who were eagerly tuning in to the website for progress reports (while successfully shutting down the Inn's music system in the process).   After a brief stop of two hours we decided to head north and find a suitable eating place.  Half a mile further on, we stopped for fish 'n' chips in Aviemore's thriving town centre.   By now, I was seriously starting to panic that we wouldn't make our destination before closing time.  However, we made good time for the rest of the journey (thanks to Racing Rhona) and arrived at our chosen destination a mere 6 hours and 30 minutes after departure. 

By now most people will have heard about ensuing events.  Rumours that I retired to the bar during the fracas are most unfair.  Naturally I assumed that this was a carefully rehearsed drama which had been laid on for my benefit as a sort of initiation test.  I was merely searching for a sane individual to converse with as what was going on in the car park did not compute.

Somewhat bewildered by events, I found myself heading for Ullapool and worrying about all those who would be heading for the Aultguish during the course of the weekend.  As it transpired however, the powers of the Rannoch are not to be underestimated and by the time we reached Ullapool, everything was in hand and we could all relax once again.  And relax we did, till the early hours.  So much for plans to pace ourselves and save it for the main event, dinner the following evening.

Despite the drama and excesses of the previous evening, the advance party, which by now also included Mary the Midge Magnet and Running Man, were up bright and early the next day.  Following a brief visit to the local constabulary where Bish once again dropped his trousers (to the horror of the female officer), we headed for The Hill.  Brilliant day, weather wise, walking wise, views wise and chatting wise.  Made good time for arriving back at the Hotel to welcome other members of the party who were beginning to arrive.  And yes, finally there was the big reunion between Betty and Big Al.  Once Big Al had recovered from his obvious disappointment that 'Betty' was not a tall, blonde, leggy, large chested sex goddess things settled down nicely.  Other notable introductions were made (e.g. C and Ms Hydra) and outstanding apologies were exchanged over any offence caused by misguided and drunken web postings.  All the while, Rhona struggled to keep up with the banter but wasn't unduly perturbed once she had figured out that she was the youngest member at the dinner.

At this point, events become somewhat hazy.  Pyjamas were lost (and found), waitresses were insulted, Bish's trousers were up and down more often than Big Al's drinking arm and I quickly cottoned on to the scam of putting all my drinks onto a randomly chosen room number ( I think it was number two).  All too soon, the evening was over and the bar staff were at last allowed to retire.

Breakfast was a subdued affair.  Waiters' 'witty' comments were not appreciated and finally the long-suffering hotel staff were left in peace as we all went our separate ways.

But the weekend was not over yet.  In no rush to return to the pressures of Central Belt life, the select few - R, S, Bish, Webmaster, JD and Running Man made for Stac Pollaidh to eke out the remaining hours in a hill, sunshine, walking  and banter fest where Miss Hydra finally climbed the climb (in a very stylish manner) and Running Man confirmed that he needed to get in more by running over Cul Beag before meeting the rest of us at the summit of SP.

What can I say about my first Rannoch dinner except, thanks for the invite, great to meet everyone and I'll be bringing my video camera next time.

Shaz (formerly known as Betty)

June 2003