Well, it is a while since I last posted. Illness, lack of drive, incentive and encouragement meant things dried up.
A tad more on my travels. Last year on a spur of the moment thing I decided to go on a winter skills course. For many years i have been toddling around the hills, summer and winter and picked up skills as I went. However, this opportunity came along and I decided to give it a go.
Staying in accomodation meant taking a smaller rucksack and a holdall. On the underground heading for Euston station a couple of young lads, complete with their cans of booze where discussing differing women in the carriage. One described me as 'that ugly looking dyke'. However, his companion nudged him telling him to 'shut it'. Realization dawned. He had spotted my ice axe hanging on my rucksack and was a tad concerned that I may get annoyed!
The course itself went well, a couple of days spent doing all manner of activities high on the Cairngorms. We drove to the ski lift car park and headed out from there. What a contrast to the ski types. Us with rucksacks laden with ropes, snow shovels, crampons, ice axes and a variety of other bits of gear complete with harnesses and helmets and heavier winter boots.
The afternoon of the second day as we made our way back to the car park, the path had been icy and we left our crampons on until we actually got to the car park. The three women in our group hastily shucked them off and, carrying them in our hands dashed across the car park. We where on a mission, getting to the loo before it closed. Believe me, going for a pee in sub zero temperatures can be tricky for women. Al three of us burst through the door, rucksacks sliding from our shoulders, climbing harnesses being rapidly shed. Suddenly I realised there where two young lasses already in the loo, busy repairing make up. Obviously the must have had a hard day on the piste?
They stood, transfixed, jaws dropping at our dramatic entry. One young lady backed in to the corner, her lippy slipping from her fingers to drop in to the sink.
Maybe the poor dears had recently read Macbeth and thought the three witches had come looking for them? Actually we where more like three ice maidens. Ice on rucksacks and clothing, hair tangled with icy clusters etc. Equipment and outer layers of clothing where just dumped on the floor. The three of us hastily scurrying in to the cubicles, doors slamming and then that that magic moment of contented bliss.
When we emerged the girls had fled. However, as we left the loo we noticed a huddle of young people surrounding the young lasses. They stared at us as we passed. It was tempting but we resisted the urge to perform a morris dance in the car complete with ixe axes being brandished. Now that would have set them thinking?