Friends, collies, dogs with nice waterproof coats,
B was up before me and breakfast was already by 6am again. Funnily enough it didn’t seem too early today, I was very hungry. We did some driving and then B got out and did some looking around and then we did some more driving, back the way we had come in the first place, which was peculiar. Eventually we parked up and I hopped out raring to go. At the beginning, there were lots of woolly things and a comforting amount of cheese came my way, when I sat down politely. Beyond the fields we got onto a wide tract and I began to think I wouldn’t have to worry about B loosing her way. Sadly, that didn’t last too long because we turned off onto one of those very small paths, that go through boggy ground, again. Then we did lots and lots of that upping. In fact, more than I had ever done before and B’s huffing and puffing sounded a bit extreme. The pneumonic CPR floated into my consciousness but it didn’t stay long because the words: dog, chest compressions and mouth to mouth, didn’t sit very comfortably together.
We had some hints of nice views early on and we were both hoping to witness the clouds separating and revealing mountains of crystal clarity, like in the morning, when the curtains are pulled in my bedroom and it is a beautiful day outdoors.
Alas and alac , it wasn’t to be. In fact, the reverse was the case. The clouds closed ranks and turned their backs on us for the rest of our walk; it got wet, wet, wet and their was nothing to see at all.
We still kept upping, for what seemed like hours and I wasvery pleased to get a rest myself, when B started on that snapping thing again. I tried to have a different look so I wouldn’t be the same in all my photos but I’m not big on facial expressions and I certainly don’t do make up. So there we are just little old me at the top of my third Munro, Meall Ghaordaidh, meaning the hill of the shoulder. It wasn’t half some shoulder for a little Ben to climb up. This was my first Munro over 1,000 metres and it is the 93rd highest, out of all the 282 Munros.
We went back the same way again, which is getting a tad boring, passing other walkers on the way down. They didn’t seem to want to talk much today. They just kept their heads down as they plodded up the grey mountain, with the big shoulder.
We got back to my van and started to dry out a bit. Then B did some driving and, a bit later, some talking to the thing that takes my photos, but this time it didn’t have the stick thing on it. I got very excited because I could hear David’s voice, but I couldn’t see him anywhere and so I got sad. I miss him very much. B told me he is at our caravan doing walks with Maisie, and having pints of real ale, in the wonderful Lake District. It rained hard for the rest of the day, which made it very noisy. Luckily, it stopped when I went to bed or I don’t think I would have got any shut eye at all.
I have already told you about the disaster, when I got up the next day, in my first blog from this weekend so, dear friends and followers, this endeth my epistle from my very first Munro weekend. It is wonderful at last, after nearly two years, to be writing to you about the very thing I started my blog for.
Can’t wait for the next one. I just hope B can get my van sorted in time for good weather.
Lots of love