Near the mountains

We went to Glen Coe for a galavant. It’s nice to just look up sometimes without scanning for a route or a flat spot for a tent. Somehow it make the hills look bigger, that bit more impressive and inaccessible. Especially standing there in skate shoes.
Lunch in the cafe was both fine and the second major purchase of the day after a tank of fuel.

Next stop was the Ice Factor in Kinlochleven for more cuppas and and a look at the shop. This was the first place Holly went on her first trip to the mountains, her reaction was a bit different this time however. Arms out, legs kicking, and cries of delight. Not at mum or dad, not at the sale rail in the shop, but at the clanky folk heading into the ice wall. She looked at the poster, shut her eyes and shook her head with a look that said, “Mum, there’s no point in taking me all this way and not letting me have a shot, I mean I’m ten months old now, I want Ice, Rock, Snow and Pure Adventure…”. Thinking fast. I explained that the hire gear was a bit stinky, and we’d go for a wander on a bit of the West Highland Way.

This was a good plan, the sun was shining, the ground was dry and and the hills were dappled with scattered clouds breaking up the light from above. How annoying must that be? The sun is huge, a mighty beast, a furnace of nuclear fury and it’s foiled by a bit of condensed water vapour.

We didn’t go too far and had to alternate between the buggy, carrying, and the favourite of on-the-shoulders where she tries to steer me like a dodgem car.
As luck would have it some friends were up there for the weekend and we managed to meet up and say a quick hello.
We drove back through Glen Coe, with the lowering sun picking out every crease and crack in the flanks of Bidean nam Bian. Magic.

Some times it’s nice just to be near the mountains.