Happy new year to all eBothiers! Spare a thought for Andy Kirkpatrick who’s spending hogmanay on the north face of the Eiger. Lucky sod! New year resolutions? Bump up the winter routes tally to get ready for Winter ML assessment next winter. Already got a nice Grade I gully on Beinn Bhan lined up.
With a Scandinavian high in charge of the weather and a sky full of stars the night before, Dawn fancied a day on the hill and so did I, to blow away the festive cobwebs. With no snow and hard night frosts we thought we’d go up Fionn Choire and see how far we’d get on Bruach na Frithe as Dawn doesn’t have crampons for her bendy boots and her plastics are ancient and uncomfortable. Being bouldery high in the coire, I thought we’d get quite far as there was no snow to speak of, so we left the house around 8:30 and were walking by 9am, heading up the very icy path to the Bealach a’Mhaim.
A merry ho ho ho to all readers of this erstwhile collection of digital drivel 
I was looking forward to a xmas day bimble on the bens, revelling in snow and ice in my new winter boots and crampons but there are a couple of problems with that plan. Number one is, there’s no snow or ice left, at all at all! It’s balmy and positively mediterranean. I swore I saw a group of hula girls swaying down the single track road heading for pina coladas at the fish farm. The other fly in the ointment is, I’ve been flapjacked! I made some Brenins yesterday but overdid it on the sugar. Result? Mauna Kea in the midrift. Can’t stray too far from the wee room. I met the gurgleblaster at 3am! So the upshot is, due to utterly boring weather and internal organ insurrection, it’s a FESTER DAY I shall read, read and read some more, that’s once I’m done chatting with my sister Lindzie in South Africa and the cousins in Philadelphia on Facebook. Isn’t the internet amazing? And Dawn just phoned (it’s her turn to do the rellies, alternating with her bro each year, while I watch the pussies). Can’t quite bring myself to watch the Queen’s speech as she’s the spitting image of my Auntie Jean. Perhaps I should write to EiiR suggesting she do the address to the nation in Weegie. “awright chinas?”.
In the meantime, it’s back to catching up on the blogs before sitting outside with a cuppa and a good book, though how can I possibly tear myself away from such an erudite posting as this?
“As anyone who’s used the systemic console knows, the numerical integration of planetary orbits is aggravatingly slow. For modern-day dynamicists, endless pages of algebra are often a thing of the past.” ref
I quite agree.Now where’s that bag of HO HO HOs
I seem to have a cheapo crappy freehub on the Specialized as the 10mm hex wrench does nothing. There’s no bolt inside. Looks like it’s a cheapo and the pitted races mean a new hub will be required but in the meantime I’ve got it to an acceptable state and ready for recommencing the winter commute. But not before I realised I’d lost my small adjustable spanner. Really nice it was too. So another 30 mile round trip to Kyle was required and thankfully the Western Supplies tool truck was still at the Co-op only today it was rather windier than yesterday’s foray for The Monster. There were a few customers in the narrow back of the truck and the wind was buffeting it from side to side, the tools hanging from the walls clanging and banging and the folk stumbling around and holding on to the sides to steady themselves. Such are the perils of shopping on the edge of Europe. Should have called it Pugwash Parts! “aaar, I’ll ‘ave this ‘ere then, Jimbo” I almost said as I handed over a couple of doubloons for a couple of adjustable spanners. A toty-wee one to carry on the bike and a heftier one for shed use. “Doubloons? We only accept pieces of eight, mate” squawked the parrot. OK, I’m havering now! I walked the plank out of the back of the truck onto Terra Less-Shoogly and made off with me booty, aaarrr. (more…)
Being about 65 miles from the nearest bike shop means I have to be self sufficient in the repair dept. but the latest job has seen the winter bike off the road for a few months as it needs a freehub overhaul. Getting the wheel to Off Beat Bikes in Fort William meant planning ahead to get a cheap bus ticket as the ferry/train combo is too restrictive at this time of year, so I never got round to it. Today though, I resolved to hit Kyle in the search for a monster adjustable spanner and as luck would have it, the Western Tool truck was in town and I managed to get a foot-long corker for 20 quid. Back at the eBothy shed, I wrapped the chain whip round the cogs, stuck in the gizmo and clamped The Monster onto it. A few huffs, puffs and groans and the job was done. Cogs off, axle and bearings out and cleaned. They’re now drying after their citrus bath, awwww!
While I was playing at Dr. Frankenstein in the shed the postie dumped a load of mail in the porch so I left the disassembled hardware to dry off before reassembling tomorrow, cleaned myself up and opened the mail. And what do you think I found? A certificate from the Institute of Physics declaring I’d been voted a full member, signed by Jocelyn Bell Burnell, no less.
And me standing there covered in oil, holding The Monster! What would those physicists say!
Following on from the discovery of one of my drawings hijacked by the MBA, I found another one while trawling old backups on CD from years ago. This one is of the Garbh Coire refuge below Braeriach in the Cairngorms, 1997. I took a picture the morning we walked out, over Ben Macdui and Carn a’Mhaim and drew it from that. I remember it was hard going through deep heather across the coire towards the Lairig Ghru path. The night we spent in the refuge was superbly wild. I remember gusts of wind developing high up in the coire behind us and roaring downhill to crash into the back of the doss. It didn’t budge an inch though, as it’s a metal A frame covered in hessian matting and large boulders. I seem to remember there was only enough space for 2 or 3 people to lie down, with their feet to the door. It’s a true emergency shelter. We reached it after a wild walk along the plateau, descending the big slabs below Angel’s Peak, which was really exciting! The abiding memory of that wild, remote night, was Penguin running around in the dark, trying to catch his loo roll, with his breeks round his ankles!
Last night was mental. The wind was hitting 130mph on top of Cairngorm, while on the west coast, we were getting around 8omph. The wind was sounding like an express train going through the trees. It was quite deafening and the vacuum created by the windspeed made it difficult to open the front door. Needless to say we clung on to the car doors like a couple of Wallace and Gromit characters! This morning dawned still, quite and mild. So mild you could smell the grass. It was so fresh and springlike even. There’s hardly a drop of snow left now. Just a few bits on top of Blaven and the north corrie of Beinn na Cailliche and that’s about it. The mainland looks pretty bare too. In fact it actually looks and feels like spring. However, the altostratus has come and gone and the sky is starting to look angry again. There’s another storm on the way, apparently.
The “Road to The Isles” was closed last week due to a chemical spill. Just look at those orange fumes. Wonder what the fish farm needed chemicals vile enough to close the main road for. Perhaps the local gamies, with their penchant for lethal cocktails hijacked it. Strange how most industries connected to the outdoors seem to rely on industrial strength concoctions, legal or otherwise.
Went for my wee 10K run around the Leitir Fura loop today. Nice and cool with snow capped summits strangely shining under a thick blanket of altostratus. Must say, it was a bit of a pech after not having done it for a while but at least the dog walkers weren’t too bad this time. Just three pairs of them. The worst was the last, as I ran back towards the main road where the car was parked. I’m sure she called the dog “kraken”. It was one of those psycho-rug things. Equally at home festering itself senseless in front of the fire or chasing anything that moves. “Kraken, kraken, come HERE! I’m so sorry, he’s not normally like this”. I don’t suppose they get many people running past their fireplace. Well, ol’ Kracken was a dug’s baw away from getting a Walsh up his bahooky. The other dogs were big slobbery friendly things. Wagging their tails they make a beeline for you but are generally harmless and well trained. It’s the collie offshoots you have to watch. Tail down, blank expression, mouth closed. I was just waiting for the nip on the back of the ankle and Kracken would have needed reconstructive surgery.
I’m quite partial to Family Guy and the chicken fight series is just hilarious! I’ve added them after the more tag to stop the front page slowing down: (more…)
