Finn on Finn.

The wee lad has cut a couple of teeth, and came round for big Finn to have a look at. Lovely pearls.

The biker chick theme continued when Spook and Finn invited me to join them on the downhill red route at Nevis Range. I had heard it was a bit scary, but with a good pair of hill running shoes, it is no bother, especially with a sturdy mountain bike to provide stability - better than walking poles. Finn had never been down it before and set off at a good pace on hardtail bike and no body armour. He spent a lot of time good naturedly waiting for his mother. It's a great track as long as you don't get too hung up on trying to stay on the bike. I had no problems!

It is raining straight down today. I was determined to go up the Ben but only managed a half as it was too uninspiring to go all the way. Training has been very poor, but I am on the Kelloggs diet of 2, 45g bowls of cereal a day plus my evening meal. This will end on the Wednesday before the race, I will have lost 10lbs and as a result, fly up the Ben like a butterfly. Except that, in order not to collapse at the half way point from malnourishment, I will have been carbo loading all day Thursday and Friday and be back to 11stone.

Spook came with me, but started a mile down the road and my target was to stay ahead as long as possible. With the psychological advantage of believing myself to be fairy light (been on the 2 bowls a day for 5 days, and it does say you can carry on with your usual snacks, so an entire big bag of Kettles crisps the other night whilst feasting on two DvD's shouldn't be too much of a setback), I kept ahead for longer than usual and we then had a very companionable run down together. Both of us had wished we were not on the hill at first as weary, sluggish limbs tried to get a bit of enthusiasm going, but on the way back down we were upbeat and glad to have done it. If it wasn't for the Ben, I would not be out at all. I always said The Ben looks after me - physically and mentally.

Amongst the dull and rainy days, there has been some great light - hints of Autumn, if not in the colours. The polytunnel has yielded some juicy harvest. Some has been a little hard to swallow. If the Munro's wont eat mushrooms because they are slimy, there is not much point in cooking snails.

Romance in the Forest.

The children have gone to the cinema. This required departing at 3pm (due to Meg's work) and returning at midnight approx. It greatly saddens me that we can't just nip to town to enjoy a cinematic experience. I see no reason why we couldn't have a Cinema Paradiso like Wanaka, apart from the ridiculous rates charged for lease of property. 130mile round trip is a bit of an epic. But not for Spook and I. We have been left at home. I had intended to go to the top of The Ben on my day off today, but awoke to a grey curtain of rain and couldn't quite face it. I filled the day with domesticity - shopping, posting of outstanding items, washing, sorting out drawers etc. Every time the sun shone I looked at the top of the Ben and knew I should have been making my way up there. It got really lovely approaching tea time, and there was still time to go, but I wooed Spook with Salmon (not worth presenting such slimy stuff to the children) and hoped he might opt for a romantic walk around the canal instead of anything too strenuous. But no, having appeared to have turned into a biker chick last weekend, he proposed a cycle through Leanachan Forest. I know I said I was looking for the next adventure, but I didn't really mean it. And the biker chick effect really did come from my inability to get off the bike - the relaxed pose, actually exhaustion. However, as is always the case, and is the good reason for having an enthusiastic cycling companion who wont take no for an answer, we had a great trip up to the high point, which we can see from the house on the other side of the Great Glen. The evening light was terrific, and as we wheeched down the trail, I had the feeling of being 15 years younger. We used to go out in the evenings pre children, but this is the first year since, that we can do things together without arranging care. The only problem now, is staying awake long enough to tuck them in when they come home.

Spooky Maradonna.

Spook has been suffering a mid-life crisis this week. It's a wee bit embarrasing, but
I suppose I could learn to live with it if it makes him feel better.
On Friday evening, we were both pooped but noticing how close the Ben Race was getting. The mist had closed in and there was a fine, warm drizzle. With a big effort, he decided to cycle to his parents, 12 miles up the road, to borrow their camper van for a trip he was planning this weekend. I forced my weary ass away from the tempting bottle of wine and got my running shoes on. There is now 4 weeks until the race.
The hillside was alive with runners honing their finely tuned skills as I peched my way upwards. I didn't hate it as much as I thought I would and definately had a more spritely down hill style than ever before. I put this down to last weeks cycling where I just let the bike ride down the grooved single track and sat on it, as it did what it was designed to do. (Too knackered to do anything else.) My feet are not exactly designed like a mountain goat, but my shoes cost £70, so I put them into action and practised looking slightly further ahead, rather than at my feet. I took 3 minutes of my last half Ben time on the descent, so I feel much better about that. And after 5 hrs on a tough bike ride and a party at the end, I reckon 3hrs 15mins of maximum allowed time for the Ben Race, should leave me heaps of energy for a big night out on the 4th September. Easy peasy.
Today Spook headed off to take part in a wee tri (run, kayak, bike) in Cairngorm, followed by a night of tapas and red wine with Uncle D in the camper van at Perth ahead of the Scottish Cross Country Mountain Bike Round tomorrow. Wee Tri was amazing and highly recommended. Hopefully he will supply photo's on his return.
Glass of red wine in hand and cosied up with les enfants, I can only hope he is addressing his hairy issues.

I can't help thinking that two kittys curled up by the Raeburn, midsummer, is not the sight you want. At least the weather picked up for a couple of days of the holidays.

Finn and I went down to Glencoe when we finally got some time together and he had a shot at archery. He was pretty good at it, but whilst he may have felt like something out of Lord of The Rings, the Celtic football top kind of spoilt the effect.
We were invited to take a wee trip up the chairlift and enjoy the wonderful view over Rannoch Moor. We looked down onto the road south that I took all through the winter in snow and frost. It is a magical place.

Looking accross to the sandy edge of Blackwater Reservoir and the hillside one might cross if ever one were mad enough to cycle to a party at Loch Rannoch.

Ach, it's reely, reely bonnie.

After reminiscing about trips to Morroco, we got an invite to dinner at the home of one our travel companions from that trip. Linda and Dave live a 2hr drive away by road and a meagre 33 miles as the crow flies - give or take a few corners here and there. The children refused the offer of taking the train on the West Highland Way to Rannoch and cycling the 12 miles by road. We hadn't seen them for about 2 years so we weren't about to let truculent children put us off.

I recognised the opportunity of a wee adventure and said to Spook "why take the train?" We could just cycle cross country, and take in some nice views, seeing as we would be unencumbered by the bairns. It was a lovely idea. It really was. And 33 miles is not very far on a bike. Spook took our change of clothes so we could slip into something sophisticated and not let our hosts down, and I took the wine and chocolates.

I was fairly euphoric and triumphant, basking in the glory of what an inspired wife I was. As long as I was looking back the way we had just come, and not the way we were going.

See that wee road that disappears round the corner there? That isn't the one we have to take is it??

It was a little unnerving to see so much land stretching out ahead. When you look accross Scotland from a height, you can practically see the other side and one doesn't quite appreciate how much there is, hidden in the glens. No, you really don't appreciate it.

Aw no. no, no, no. This is MUCH steeper than it looks.

Once I realised that this wasn't just a cycle over some handy, hidden drovers road, and was actually going to involve some pushing up hills and serious effort, I thought I might just have a wee party to myself and post a message in the empty bottles, float it down river with my GPS and wait for the helicopter. The bottles were getting heavier and heavier.

Corrour Train Station - Britains highest and remotest station. Featured in Trainspotting, the movie.

Loch Ossian Youth Hostel

Bashturdy bashturd. Fluffily fecking shystery bashturd.

This is the other side of Blackwater Reservoir, and is looking across to the direction of Glencoe - on a clear day, we would have seen the mountain that Finn and I's chair lift was going up.

WE had amazing light all around us and never got rained on once.

When we got to the old Corrour Lodge just as we were due for dinner, and it was looking a wee bitty isolated, Spook thought he better phone Linda and Dave to let them know we were running late.

That really doesn't look very far away!