A Fine Day in the Hills
Posted: Thursday, 07 December 2006 |
Nearly a fortnight ago I went up The Clisham, the highest hill in Harris, with some friends. It was a beautiful still day, the sun was shining and there was no wind. We set off along the old post road at the back of ten, with me worrying whether or not I could keep up with them and the dog rubbing it in by charging off ahead and doubling back every few minutes.
I had been up this hill twice before, once in the snow some 14 years ago and again in June this year, to celebrate my 10th wedding anniversary (well it seemed like a good idea at the time; the walk that is, not the wedding), and both times the hill had seemed formidable; its summit always further out of reach no matter how much I climbed. On both occasions I had returned utterly knackered. Not this time though, I told myself, third time lucky.
How I laughed at my absurd optimism some three hours later, as my legs steadfastly refused to go any further up the near vertical slope, beyond which, I knew, the summit lay. Or at least I would have been laughing had I not been hyperventilating. The dog loped back to check on the hopeless case, having been to the top and back three times already. I made a face at him. He looked back at me pityingly. Right, I thought, that's the final straw, I'm going to get to the top of this b****** if it kills me, which it very likely will.
One superhuman effort later....and this is what we saw...........
I've seen a Brockenspectre before, but this one was amazing. Well worth all the effort to get to the top. Shortly afterwards, the cloud came down and we got completely soaked, but did we care...?
I had been up this hill twice before, once in the snow some 14 years ago and again in June this year, to celebrate my 10th wedding anniversary (well it seemed like a good idea at the time; the walk that is, not the wedding), and both times the hill had seemed formidable; its summit always further out of reach no matter how much I climbed. On both occasions I had returned utterly knackered. Not this time though, I told myself, third time lucky.
How I laughed at my absurd optimism some three hours later, as my legs steadfastly refused to go any further up the near vertical slope, beyond which, I knew, the summit lay. Or at least I would have been laughing had I not been hyperventilating. The dog loped back to check on the hopeless case, having been to the top and back three times already. I made a face at him. He looked back at me pityingly. Right, I thought, that's the final straw, I'm going to get to the top of this b****** if it kills me, which it very likely will.
One superhuman effort later....and this is what we saw...........
I've seen a Brockenspectre before, but this one was amazing. Well worth all the effort to get to the top. Shortly afterwards, the cloud came down and we got completely soaked, but did we care...?
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