Happy Place

T'was a dull and cloudy day at home despite the thick snow.  Looking across the Great Glen it was obvious there was a thin cloud inversion and a little effort on a personal level would reveal the sun.  With skiers on a mission to get to the slopes no matter what, it seemed a good time to get in a quiet Half Ben.  My dodgy old knees have taken exception to the Ben in recent years and the place of happiness has become a place of torture as I constantly glance at my watch in an effort to get halfway in 1hr to meet Ben Race requirements.  I like going up the hill, but when I get to the top, someone sticks metal rods through my heels and all the way up my thighs, and another one across my shoulders.  They stay there for the entire journey down the hill.  The only way I can meet the 3hr 15min cut off for the race is to get up a lot faster.  I'm thinking this doth not equal fun.  But a thin cloud inversion, a trail that had been cut by early walkers, and glorious sunshine within easy reach - it was turning into a place of promise.  Spook, Running Girl and Ted the Collie were happy to accompany me.

We didn't meet many people but anyone stepping off the path to let us by ended up more than thigh deep in a big hole, so it was better to get up close and personal to pass each other.  But that was only a very few people.  Folks were mostly turning back at half way which was borne out by no sign of footsteps on the higher reaches.  For those not in the know, there was little guidance on a route.  There were a couple of skiers further up and one group cutting up the hill on the wrong side of the Red Burn for the summit.  We saw them heading down, before we turned ourselves.

We were on the plateau at half way near the lochan, but we were not on the path.  The trail had been cut straight up from the 'Baskets' and had avoided a whole zig.  Nice peace of rule breaking.  

Spot the skiers in the distance.  We met them further down the hill, bathed in sweat.  The first part of their ski-ing had been fun.  The lower path was hard work and not so much fun.  

It was difficult to say who was happier - me or Ted.

My survival of 14 Ben Races and all the training in between, is a bit of an enigma.  I just can't do that downhill stuff with any kind of grace. But with snow even-ing out the rocks, it was the most fun descent I've ever done. Happy, happy, happy.

Slim pickings.  Back below the clouds - reluctantly.

Mid Winter Blues Buster

Lochaber's a pretty good place to pass the darkest days of the year.  Though not if you have influenza A or pneumonia.  Nowhere is a good place to be with that.  On the other hand, the support from NHS 24, the Belford Hospital A&E, Out of Hours Service and GP's has been phenomenal for my Horizontal Boy who is now horizontal out of necessity rather than laid back nature. (Not to mention the out of hours service provided by friends on their day off.)  Maybe Lochaber really is the place to be in your darkest days.

But the fun stuff that one gets dragged into whether one wanted to or not, has made mid winter a blast.

Manic Mondays have continued unabated and Christmas day fell on a Monday, so it was a wee party on the water.  I never go for my dip with enthusiasm, but I always leave the apres breakfast with a positive outlook for the week.  It's about the buzz and not the exercise as the most energy is expended in putting on and taking off our wetsuits (and all the other stuff that I put on to cover every piece of skin possible.)  The only sign of the true swimmers is usually a couple of pairs of crocs by the sea side (the footwear - not the man-eating type) and sometimes a head torch in the distance as Mairi, Ed and sometimes Emma, get their mile in (I've even seen paddles attached to hands and this is a daily routine for them - not once a week.)

On the last day of the year we got an invite to cross the border into Speyside from Linda Lu and Dashing Dave.  A bike ride was suggested to balance the excesses of the festive period.  I've known Linda Lu a long time but I was still surprised at the contents of her cycling rucksack - apart from the whisky liqueur - that wasn't a surprise at all.

The roads and tracks were so icy that we only made it to the top of Kingussie golf course.  Dashing Dave didn't even get that far as he was called out by the fire service.  We weren't sure if this created the correct balance but we thought we should toast Spook, the sober driver anyway.

Spook has a reputation to upkeep in Kingussie where he as recently been re-named as H20 Munro.

If only he could bring that reputation back to Lochaber.  He did well on Hogmany but that was only because he had the promise of a night at the B'Dass's on the 1st.  Meanwhile, the first day of the year was a Monday, but we decided to go up a wee hill instead of a swim.  We'd missed the deadline to enter the Aonach Mhor Uphill race so decided to go up Melantee which is the nobbly bit in front of Ben Nevis.

Running Girl took her 21st wee dram to bring in the new year, which is the last one as she doesn't intend to do any more Ben Nevis Races. (you always get a miniature Ben Nevis Whisky with your entry to the race.) She doesn't like whisky, but gave it a fair go.  Then we raised the bottle to the runners over at Nevis Range.

Curly issued her yearly challenge of 100 miles for January and only this counted for a paltry 2.5.  I had to run round the car park and get out of the van at the bottom of the road to run up the canal.  It's going to be a long month.  It's a challenge just to run at all, so I'm keeping it to little and often so as not to build an impossible deficit as the month goes on.  we ran up the red route at Nevis Range to see what was going on up the there and to offer a bit of variety.  Spook and Running Girl got up there way ahead of me and I puffed my heart out trying to catch them.

https://www.facebook.com/Kimages-342343742639787/

Kimages takes a great photo.

Kim, herself.

It took me 1hr and 17mins to get to the targeted hot chocolate.

it was a guy wee cup for sic an effort but apparently it was so busy they'd run out of mugs.

The next day, we'd heard that there were cute babies up there and Meg and her pals were going up sledging, so we decided to walk up and rest our legs from the effort of running. (this is a 3 mile uphill effort.)  RG started a long time ahead of me and arranged to see me there.  I enjoyed a pleasant walk and had every intention of claiming the 3 miles for the challenge even tho I didn't even attempt a run.

Endomondo which is recording my miles and lap times, confirmed that it had taken 1hr and 17mins to walk up the hill.  Exactly the same time as my run the day before.  Who am I kidding with this hill running lark?

Fun in every direction.  Thanks for these 3 photo's Amy Cameron.

Campaign K, who lives next door, invited me out on her wee routine cycle round the forest on our side of the glen.  I'm up for a jaunt but hate having to change outfits for work, shopping, running or cycling.  So I just went as I was - straight from some stick cutting on the croft.

I had hoped the oily boiler suit would be water resistant but it wasn't, so I had to get changed afterwards, anyway.

My daily run took me past Torcastle at sunset.  There are many benefits from the challenge like running past old castles at sunset and despite the tender knees and now almost half way through the challenge, I'm already feeling more energetic.  No one needs to run every day, but something that makes you go out that door, even after a long working day to get some fresh air in any weather, has to be a good thing.  Thanks Curly.

Fun comes at a price and I have done quite a bit of work over the festive period.  I insisted on new dungarees to inspire my clients that I was a true professional.  Meg said that they needed to know I was a professional cleaner and not a professional plumber.  She has taken to calling me Luigi.  I like a lot of pockets but even these didn't have enough for my dusters.  I stuck a couple inside my bib.  When I called into Running Girl's for a cuppa after work, she thought my knickers were falling out my trouser leg when she saw the pink material nestling on my foot.  I'd hunted all over for that bloomin' duster.

The weather has continued to be better and brighter than it was in summer.  Perhaps a little colder.  I'll end with James Crightons photos from his snowboarding day up Nevis Range yesterday.  Thanks James - don't know which this is the best advert for - Nevis Range, your new Google phone with camera, or your photography.  But it certainly helps make the point about Lochaber.

Bent Spoons

On a rip-roaring Saturday night, Spook and I were stymied when our internet provider would not provide Netflix.  At 9pm it seemed a bit early to turn in, even though we were already slumped by the fire in a state of sleepiness.  How has this happened???? (not the lack of internet - the lack of energy for a high jinx Saturday night.) I suggested we take a wander up the croft to check out Finn and his mate Aiden's igloo, which they had toiled over all afternoon with Meg 'cementing' in the gaps. We grabbed head torches, some candles and a small rug - it is a sad sign of the times that we didn't grab a wine bottle and some glasses, but there you have it.

We were a wee bit lack-lustre as we trudged up the hill in the freezing temperatures, and planned a quick photo opportunity and then maybe a game of Snap back home.

This was all very well and impressive, but a wee glass of something would have added to the ambience.  At this sad realisation (about 5 minutes after we'd got the candles lit) Meg phoned to say that a couple of scary guys with a big stick had appeared at the door.  Thankfully it turned out to be The Big G and Mr B'Dass - neighbours, and the big stick was to inspire me in my much talked about stick-making efforts as Mr B'Dass won Best Stick at the Agricultural Show.  Meg provided them with croft-suitable footwear and pointed them up the hill where they were welcomed into the hold, especially as they brought copious amounts of whisky......and the big stick.  

That' s a prize-winner, right there!!

The Big G was clutching a bottle of Dutch whisky presented to him by a very kind Dutch man and worth a penny or two.  He was celebrating the on-set of his birthday - that's probably why we risked hypothermia in order to make it past midnight to reach his birthday at the other side.

Spook and The Big G discussed the possible merits of Dutch whisky while Mr B'Dass wielded a bottle of 12 year old Highland Park and the remains of a Glenlivet as he nostalgically remembered games of shinty played out in the village of the latter.

I helped out with the Highland Park which was my mother's favourite but got a row for taking such a 'girlie' sip.  I'm already wondering if there might be too many photo's of me slugging out of bottle's of whisky - girlie fashion or not.

We did get a bit excited about the Netherlands role in the igloo party and couldn't wait for a wee taste.  Smooth and caramelly, I thought - while I was still able to.  Mr B'Dass was full of nostalgia for the big win at the Agricultural Show and keen to see if he could retain the title.  After a few drams I was pretty sure I could give him a run for his money as the croft is full of hazel trees just waiting to be transformed.

But time nor tide waits for no man, and the hour approached when butts and feet were undeniably chilled, so a stagger down the croft and back to the warmth of the kitchen for a few tunes was the wisest move.  I'm not saying the transition happened very smoothly or without a couple of tumbles (that was just me,) but once the feeling had come back into our guests hands, we had The Big G on the mandolin and B'Dass on the spoons.  He did make a bit of a fuss about the quality of the spoons, but was able to ease them into the shapes required.  Unfortunately, the soup wont stay on them any longer but it was worth it for the performance.

Good sense finally prevailed and our visitors supported each other off home.  The Big G snuggled into bed with his sleepy wife who yelped "Where have you been?  The bloody North Pole?  "No" he replied "I've been in Mo and Spooks igloo."  Oh my god, she thought, how much of that Dutch whisky has he drunk??

Meanwhile I went back up the next day to make sure there was no evidence of shenanigans in our son's igloo.

Oh thank goodness.  He'll hardly even know we've been there........

OH NOOOOOO!!!!!!

I had to call in help and got Mrs B'Dass to call in on her way over the hill today to check that everything was back in order.

Sorted.

Scottish Trad Awards - Gaelic Singer of the Year

When my friend Roberto came over from Dundee for a few days in October (he originally comes from near Algeciras in Southern Spain), we took a road trip out to Mallaig, calling in at Glenfinnan to watch the steam train pass by and to watch the waves when we hit the west coast at the smaller viaduct that you drive under.  A trip out west isn't complete without a wander through the sand dunes to Camusdarroch beach and on the way home we put some music on and sang at the top of our voices.

As Roberto and I can't sing in Gaelic, we chose the Robert Robertson song in the link below. It seemed a good idea to introduce Roberto to Scottish music via his Scottish name sake and as he is a bit of a romantic,  the rather cheesy video is right up his adopted Scottish street, as dancing with a Highland girl where the skies reach out for miles was all he wanted to do after our trip........

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uzbzMRyinyE

Scottish Trad Awards - Instrumentalist of the Year

Saturday nights used to see my sister and I taking the floor in a small space in the house, listening to the radio and trying to squeeze in Canadian Barn Dances and Gay Gordon's.  A generation later the cheery voice of Robbie Shepherd has been replaced with the cheery voice of Gary Innes and without doubt, a gentle, gradual modernisation of Take The Floor.  A Lochaber man down to his ex-shinty playing toes, he won the above title of 2017.  Below is a video taken from the drivecam on his homeward bound journey on the A82 at it's most iconic point, to his own tune of The Road to Lochaber.  I get a little travel sick, so if you do too, you might need to stand back from the screen, or just listen. (to the sister who used to whirl about to Robbie Shepherd - you'll need a sick bag.)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q50g8NJlI3s

The 2nd video is his song-writing - not his winning instrumental skills - and the voice of a further winner of this years awards.  But I love the song and the video as although one might not call it a romantic part of highland life, it's an undeniable part of the culture, which links people up and down the highlands, the lowlands and even across the world and to my mind, that IS part of the romance of a strong connection between people.  Even enemies on the field, are linked by their playing of the game. That's the essence of the song and the video also features Gary.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyt74s-9J6o

Someone will need to write The Caman Woman as these women are a whole other level altogether.............

Scottish Trad Music Awards

I don't claim to know much about music but bopping up and down to fiddles, accordians, pipes and drums started when I could sit up in my big, well sprung pram in Ayrshire.  My mother told me that she had a request played for each of her children on the radio and asked them to play anything overwhelmingly Scottish to suit the baby.  Pestering my mother on family holidays to take me to the weekly pipe band marching through a contributing Highland town was the norm - and much to the horror of my granny I developed an enduring love for Andy Stewart.  As I sat with my face glued to the television when he was performing, I remember being shocked when a large tattie appeared across the screen.   My granny had nipped through from preparing the tea to back up her view that he had a face like an old tattie and was offering me the chance to make a comparison.  Dancing the night away at the Kyle of Lochalsh Hotel when I was 19 it dawned on me that a dream had come true.  When Andy sang about The Dancing in Kyle he sang "there was Mairi and Duncan and Morag and Calum".  I knew then that I was meant to dance in Kyle.  The Incredible Fling Band played the night away and the names of local villages that I passed on my way to the dance were there in that song of my Ayrshire childhood - Inverinate, Dornie, Ardelve.  I grew up thinking the Highlands was the most romantic place in the world and the stirrings of that deep held romantic view are easily brought to the surface - by the humour, warmth and support of its inhabitants but most of all, by the music.

The Trad Scottish Awards 2017 were held in Paisley last night, and without having to look closely at the results, it's clear that there is a strong Lochaber contingent amongst the winners.  So I thought I'd post a piece of music each day for the next few days to provide a wee flavour of something very special.

Event of the Year was won by A Night For Angus - a celebration of Angus R Grant's life.  My heiland husband has always had a much finer and more select love of Scottish music and Shooglenifty was a big favourite.  He knew Angus, who grew up in Lochaber, and was in awe of his fiddle playing.  He managed to get tickets to the event at Celtic Connections in Glasgow and it was the most enthralling evening.  Below is an exert from the full video of the event.  250 to Vigo is my favourite song and I sometimes put it on and dance round the kitchen when no one's in.  It starts slowly and builds to the most lovely, uplifting crescendo of positivity.  In this video there is quite a long tribute to Angus from a Galician artiste - in her own language - but love and respect seems to pour from her and when the players pick up the tune again, it backs up the love - and romance.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWu8Gc4yMlU&list=PLpis9b8e9cVqPrKJb8KwMQY1tVFOldkGv

The Devil's in the Detail

You're never too old to go back to school - science was never a subject that made any sense to me, but like so many of the subjects that stumped me, a bit of practical application would have worked wonders. 

So I signed up to try out the new Gin School at The Loch Leven Hotel in Ballachulish, with Craig Innes of Pixel Spirits Ltd in their new Craft Distillery.  Practical application and an opportunity to take home the product of your day sounded like a good all round learning experience - and it's even on the bus route back to Fort William.....

You get your own mini still.......well - not THAT mini.

This is big enough to get you a whole bottle full of your very own bespoke brew.  But you don't just chuck a load of berries in and hope for a quality product.  This is school, and this is science......

There must be juniper berries for it to become gin.  And there's some coriander that apparently has to go in.  We're talking very specific measurements, and for the botanicals which will give your gin it's unique flavour, there's a tiny wee set of scales for the tiniest amount of hibiscus or citrus or cinnamon.  Too much of anything and any subtlety of aroma is gone and your precious bottle isn't going to be very precious.

Once you are supplied (by Craig) with your very high content alcohol which is your base, you must check the temperature

There's no messing around and no setting fire to your mates with the Bunsen Burners here.

Your wee still has to get up to correct heat for the gin to start flowing gently into your glass jar below the table and before you know it your bottling it.

And then you're naming and labelling it

The only test involved here is to test the product.  This is my kind of school - but it's off to the bar for a little ambience and an opportunity to try out Craig's carefully crafter creations.........

 There was a choice between Neptune's Staircase which was tempting as I live close by to that staircase on The Caledonian Canal, and The Devil's Staircase which is on the edge of Rannoch Moor.  Over 20 years ago I remember trying to extricate my husband from this very bar and I always promised him that some day he would have the pleasure of returning the favour - so I opted for a taste of the Devil to see if it would bring out the best and worst in me.

Depending on which gin you choose there are delicious additives to complement the flavours.

Craig's passion for his craft is contagious - rattling up a quick bottle of gin at his school is fun and satisfying, but creating a whole distillery requires drive and dedication, therefore hitching up at the cosy bar or taking the air on the balcony with a refreshing drink is a little more relaxing.

Woops!  Getting a wee bit wobbly.

For a night out or  making a weekend of it, don't think you have to rush off to Edinburgh, Glasgow or destinations further afield.  I found myself extricated from my bar stool far too early by my sober driver and I realised that my husband might not bother coming to get me anyway and with no bus timetable to hand - well, I cut my losses.  But it's the kind of place you could be drawn in to..........

http://www.pixelspiritsltd.co.uk/ginschool.html

http://www.lochlevenhotel.co.uk/

Starting Again.......

After a long, wet, warm summer in Lochaber and adjusting to having to grow up due to the loss of my mum in the spring (who was unwell for many years and was no spring chicken), it's time to kick start the winter with a new approach to the blog.  There's a wee bit of the recluse within me, but thankfully Running Girl chooses to ignore that and refuses to allow me to wallow for too long.  Many of us will suffer episodes where we experience noisy brains and a tendency to low mood and the noisier the brain the lower the mood.  Challenging the mind and body can change the thought process from needless inner chatter to focussing on the predicament you've put yourself in.  For example, RG announced that cold water was good for physical and mental health and that a Monday morning swim in the sea would set us up for an active and positive week.  Now, I can put on the wet suit, waterproof socks (lol), bootees, neoprene gloves and double wetsuit hats - but that doesn't mean I'm going into the water.  I've proven this on more than one occasion even in beautiful full summer conditions.  But several Mondays on from RG's original announcement and I am already managing more than 5 minutes in the icy waters of Loch Linnhe!  Does my noisy brain quieten?  Most certainly.  You can't make that much squealy noise in between sharp intakes of breathe and still mull over useless items of an unsolvable nature.  So she has a point.  "Wait until we're scraping the frost off the windscreen in the morning" she giggled, in an ever so slightly maniacal manner. 

  So far I haven't even got a salty face and have given up the goggles and the double wetsuit hats as I have not yet wet a cheek - not a facial one, anyway - nor got my hair wet.  But apart from 2 weeks in sunny Spain, I'm still there on Mad Mondays.

I'm not thinking this is a very good idea.........

A wee word of encouragement...........

I'm hoping this counts as 'in'.

Apparently not - but I'm pretty sure THIS does.