Well then (that's an unprepossessing start that is and it's all down hill from here)
This is being written in the Mason's at Tarfside and I'm starting it at 10:15 at night after arriving here at before 2:00pm. All is well with our worlds, as you can imagine. Hic.
I shall have to canter though the last two days, which is probably just as well as a lot of it is best erased (as is most of this "live" blog as it is mostly written late at night)
The party at Stan & Bill's at Calatter Lodge was, even by Challenge standards, quite a night. Challengers who had pitched their tents awoke to find themselves on the parlour sofa in front of the dying embers, with a big day to come.
We walked a "Bloody Massive" walk (and the capitals are very important here) over zillions of Munros and even BIGGER hills and miles and miles of sapping bogs. And at the end of it we dragged some ten poor unfortunates to a bleak little spot in the middle of Absolutely Nowhere to put the tents up next to the Water of Unich at about 750m above anything like a sensible sea level.
Everyone had brought wine. Everyone had brought cheese. Some, wisely, had brought biscuits and sloe gin and cafitierres (not sure how that is spelled).
It was two degrees and a bit drizzly, but that has never stopped a good cheese & wine soiree.
I will draw a veil over the proceedings. What happens on the Chally stays on the Chally. I do remember almost falling into the river and having a near death drowning incident.
On the way to the location, Phil commented on the haunting nature of the stravaig. He kept hearing awful moaning and wailing from somewhere far behind him as he strode manfully at the fore, leaving his fellow travellers in his wake. And it almost was his wake, such was the degree of difficulty of this particular walk. It were a "Right Bastard" of a stroll.
So the relief at finishing it was so great that ten exhausted Challengers leapt into their cups of wine and barrels of cheese and all had a happy time. We retired with the temperature plummeting to well below freezing, but blissfully happy. (But still blaming Bastard Phil for an awful day's walk)
By comparison, today was a doddle, strolling down the Water of Unich, splashing across and heading uphill to gain the summit of some hill or other to crash down to almost bloody sea level with knee grinding drops.
So, bloody hell! Here we are in the Masons with JJ singing, the dogs barking and Challengers all sunburned and smiley.
Life is bloody good!