Ever since I got back from the Strathfarrar Munro’s those rocks I saw on the ridge have haunted me. I’m sure it’s a word, I’m sure it’s a message, I’m sure it’s significant, I’m sure the grass wasn’t that colour.
I’ve had to start marking stuff on my calendar, and I see this as something of a defeat. I like being, or at least living the illusion of being, freeform. Unfortunately customers, deadlines and other people don’t appreciate that stuff.
An adjustment to a schedule of sorts means even more frantic weather watching. Seana Bhraigh is on the agenda for the next week, even for me it’s a bit of hike to get there and getting in from the nearest road is a meal in itself. The forecast is changing every few hours and its driving me mental, I don’t think it’s a hill I want to visit in cloud, I want to see it.
I also want a frying pan. Ages back I was banging on about having a cooked breakfast at camp, and now that I have egg protection and condiment and oil transportation, I need a frying pan. The titanium ones won’t do, you can’t get two tattie scones in at the same time, so I’m looking at the Eurohike aluminium one. That could take me to budget powered breakfast heaven.