In Da Club

Back in my teenage years, I was in the school hillwalking club. We didn't have much in the way of kit at first; it was all jeans, wooly jumpers, bobble hats, anoraks and DMs. What we had in spades was enthusiasm and, more importantly, teachers that were happy to give up the odd weekend to drive a minibus full of teenagers the length and breadth of Scotland. (We made one foray to The Ponds, thought “Aye, it's quite nice” but decided the hills in our own back yard were much finer and never returned).

Hillwalking - 70's Style

There was nothing methodical about planning our hill days. Somebody would make a suggestion and, if met with general approval, that's where we went. We could be on The Lowthers one weekend and gallumphing across the Cairngorm plateau the next.


No such thing as risk assessment in those days either. The school were told we were going away for the weekend and we're taking the minibus and that was it. We knew what we needed to carry on our backs and were actively encouraged to be independent. We'd pile out of the bus, somebody would ask “Where we goin', Sir?” and a finger would be pointed in response. Wee groups would form up and away we'd go, bantering back and forth and generally having a jolly time of it. Nobody ever got lost and, only the once, did anybody get hurt; a turned ankle within sight of the car park. The casualty was evacuated on the back of Big Gordon. No helicopters required.

Happy days.

Fast forward 30 years and you find a man with an aversion to clubs of any kind but hillwalking clubs in particular. I'm no' sure why but I think what I get from being in the hills these days is a lot different to what I got out of it back then. These days I like my own company, the solitude and the freedom to make my own decisions; where to go and when and for how long. It's good. It'd be nice to share it
with someone now and again but it's not the end of the world.

Maybe it's the thought of sharing it with a bunch of relative strangers, hee-hawing about the place and crowding folk. I've had a few peaceful moments shattered by big groups and it's no' something I'd wish on others.


So, whenever I see a club diary on the interweb, I don't think “Ooo, that sounds good. I wonder if they'd let me join?”, it's more “Well, I know where I won't be going this weekend”.


Anti-social? Not at all. Grumpy old man? I'm working on it.

The Good Old Days

The Future Mrs D and I recently made a foray to Kinross Market, ostensibly to get some stuff for the dugs but in reality a chance to pick up some of The World's Best Tablet* and have a rummage thru' the second hand books. So there I am, working my way thru' the many boxes of books on offer but, apart from a couple of SciFi classics, finding not very much at all. I was on the very last box and just about to call it a day when I spotted a familiar face under a pile of AA road maps; it was none other than the late Tom Weir and a pristine copy of Highland Days, that was mine for less than £4.

I finished it last night and it's been an inspiration. It's reminded me of the joy of being in the hills and the love I have for this country of ours. Such a great wee book and so beautifully written that you can feel the wee man's passion for the outdoors flowing from nearly every page.

It should be required reading in schools. Brilliant, just brilliant.

*A concoction of Condensed Milk and Sugar that's a bit like fudge only firmer. Dentists like it because it makes them rich.

Summer's here!!!

At long last, a spell of decent weather. I should've known really, that Wednesday would be the day, because Summer last year was on a Wednesday too. According to the weather boffins, it's likely to continue until Sunday so that'll be a whole 5 days. Unbelievable! It could almost be 1976, all over again.

View from the back garden with East Lomond in the middle distance

It hasnae rained for nearly 3 days tho' so I expect there'll be drought warnings along soon enough.

Bloody typical that the good weather comes along mid-week as well. The Beeb and Triple Echo must be gutted; if only they'd scheduled The Great Climb for this weekend. The Weather Gods must be pishin' themselves. And 'twas ever thus.


Welcome to Scotland. Hope you packed your wellies.

The Weather Gods

This will be a recurring theme. I mean, have you seen the weather forecast for this weekend? That's what happens when I say, "I think I'll go for a walk on Saturday". The Weather Gods have it in for me.

Shiny Stuff

As we go along, you may find that I'll mention gear, kit, shiny things and whatnot. Mainly outdoors-type stuff such as the PHD Minimus Vest that landed on my desk yesterday. It's marvellous. Such a well-made piece of lightweight, fluffy lovlieness. Now I just have to get out there and use the damn thing.