Roadside Assistance

Valentine’s Day would have been easy to dismiss for us, we’ve been there, seen it, done it, fought over the t shirt with our ex’s.
We’d discussed that it’s just a commercial opportunity, that love needs no cross on a calendar that you have to present product to your partner upon.
But the fact that we’re both just kids at heart and are full of the joys of life meant that it was kinda disappointing that we wouldn’t see each other at all from Thursday to Sunday at the earliest because of work.
So we made Thursday Valentine’s Day.
February 13th was also the 50th anniversary of the release of Black Sabbath’s first album, so it was a day to be celebrated on many levels.

With schedules rejigged, suitably colourful clothes picked out, it was perhaps unavoidably, and a definitely little wonderfully late when we left.

The clouds cleared as we passed Loch Lomond on our way north. There was blue above in increasing amounts.
The hills had snow, not too thick, but it was a fine sight. In Glen Falloch the snow cover thickened to a smooth blanket on the higher slopes.
The little flutter in my chest wasn’t just from the back to back coffees or the girl in the passenger seat, this was country I love at it’s most glorious.
I know what could lie ahead on this wondrous ribbon of northbound ashfalt, Linda doesn’t. I hoped it would be clear for her, I hoped it would be perfect, I hope I wouldn’t shriek like a little girl when I pulled up the hill over Loch Tulla.

Breakfast in the afternoon got in the way though. Ben Lui was in cloud which I took very personally, saying “Look! Look!” only works when there’s something dramatic to see.
But fueling up at Tyndrum soothed the disappointment. Macaroni cheese with ham in it. Baby Jebus.
Linda thought “We could just go up there…” looking at the snow covered lead mines across the glen. “I just want to play in the snow!”. Yes, yes.

The pull up from Tyndrum was too long, the sun was bright, the sky was clear, the hills were hidden but then we were there. I shrieked like a little girl far too many corners too early.
Glorious, just glorious.
Shining white against azure as far as we could see. It was late but the light was still clear, no warm filter yet, but it was close. We pushed on.

We stopped at the Black Mount, you know, the bit where everyone stops. Time to play in the snow.

The light was slipping, but I had to show Linda more. Back in the car, keep going. The Glencoe ski centre was full to overflowing, literally, cars all along the roadside. The police would be sorting it when we passed on the way back.
The sun shone up Glen Etive, low and yellow. It tracked us through the gaps all the way to Bidean where we pulled in to have a quick wander up the old road. It’s a nice wee walk this, overlooked in this grand neighbourhood. We shared laughs and photies as gold bled into the blue overhead.

One stop on the way home. It’s the eternal photie opportunity this spot.

We were tired when we got back, it was late and it was dark. The fridge was full with the dinner we’d planned and it was more bravado that enthusiasm that put the contents on the worktop and started heating the pan.
The smells fired the enthusiasm for real after a quick cooking rethink because the steaks (M&S meal deal, awesome btw) were too thick to cook and eat today without still being raw inside to some degree.
Sizzling, chopping, bubbling.
A perfect end.

I suppose highlighted days on the calendar are what you make of them. Turns out making them a whole different day works just fine.