Heavy snow with flakes the size of scones had me standing at the window grinning, but it was Joycee who said let’s go.
The weather might have really bad at 900m, but at 300m it was fine, refreshing even. We watched the pulses of sleet crossing Cowal and Renfrewshire then sweep up the hillside towards us, chasing the patches of blue sky in all directions except overhead. But, warm and dry, hoods up, we were impervious to its attempts to spoil our fun.
Always nice to get snow on your boots.