'Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut'
I however clearly mis-heard this saying when I first heard it, and so on a chilly crisp morning after a brief pause in Aboyne to buy sandwiches and feel a little queasy, I set out from the car park at Glen Tanar to do something drunk which I had a greed to do sober.
The decision to pop out for 'a quiet drink' on my 21st wound up with me retiring to bed at 3:30am thoroughly merry and not necessarily in the best state for a 5:30am start. but on two hours sleep (plus a nap in the car) and a little the worse for ware we set off.
It was a clear pale morning and the weak winter sun struggled to rear its head and we tramped on into the forest under a wavering morning sun.
our first stop at a bend in the river where Chris Hoskins wanted to take some pictures gave me a chance to sit and rest my increasingly uneasy head. We passed by a dilapidated shack which fairly well personified (or is that buldingified) how I felt by this stage of my hungover proceedings .... that is putting in a large amount of effort in order to just hang in there let alone manage anything else
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| The 'Hungover' sheiling |
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| Water of Tanar flowing through the forest of Glen Tanar |
Although not half way for us (we actually weren't halfway through our day until we reached the top of the hill) it marked a half way point to the bottom of the hill so we stopped for a brief rest.
When we emerged from the hut and soon after, the forest, it was into into a cloud logged glen with heavy skies which gave a sense of pathetic fallacy worthy a hollywood blockbuster. This was the pinnacle of my hangover and as we walked the 3 or 4 miles to the foot of the hill I had to seriously consider my chances of actually making it to the top. However sheer bloody mindedness and the lack of a better option short of sitting on my own in the glen for 6 hours waiting for chris to come back passed made me push on through the worst of my hangover. Finally after a brief nap in a ruined building at the foot of the hill (chris assures me there is photographic evidence but I believe he is holding on to it for future blackmail purposes) I was right as rain and ready to take on the steep path to the top.
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| The Mounth Road |
The walk to the top was very blustery and a little precarious at some points thanks to a late resurgence of hangover kicking my sense of balance into touch. but finally we pushed on and I got to stand atop my very fist Munro.
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| Summit Silhouette |
The walk down was relatively uneventful but far made far more enjoyable by the emergence of the sun which burned off the cloud and sent rainbows dancing across the hills and valleys as we happily descended to the sun soaked and far less windy joys of the glen below. Another good few miles of romping back along the glen with a few stops to make the most of the golden evening sun and it was back into the car and ready for a long soak in a bath and an early night.
My conclusions from the day out...
Munro bagging is a hoot, im not about to start running up mountains and breaking records but any excused to enjoy Scotland's wild places must be worth it.
Munro bagging is also a relatively effective tool for curing the common hangover (albeit it somewhat less tasty than a pile of bacon sandwiches)
Hangovers however are not an effect tool for baggin munros and I cannot honestly advise anyone get drunk the night before they have to walk 20 miles up and down a mountain.
The view south from Mount Keen
Rainbows in the glen
Pretty much just me bellowing at a windblown map
