A decent pair of climbing boots…
We strode out from Mamore Lodge
Father and daughter
She setting a measured, leisurely pace
He keeping time
Nursing a sore shoulder.
As the track inclined and the view opened out
Loch Leven hove into sight
An old trawler tied up indefinitely
To a wee jetty on the opposite bank
Below the road.
Our goal, “The Seat”
High above the loch.
Above the snowline.
We crunched on up the gravelly track
Stones became slush
Merrells soaked through
A cold rush around the toes
Slowly warming up to a cosy squelch
Until the next icy onslaught.
Aches and pains forgotten
We reached our destination
And with frozen fingers
Snapped a shot or two.
“Let’s press on to the loch” she urged
Stirred by the chill air
And the thrill of actually using her muscles
A city slicker now
With pointy boots and fancy coats
No suitable garb for such an expedition
Bar a pair of old trainers.
Press on they did
Until chilly Loch Eilde Mhor could be seen
Resting quietly among snowy ridges
An army mast piercing the lumbering grey sky.
We about-faced then
Eyes full of mountains and lochs
Observed silently by a stag
The sun on our faces
We retraced our snowy steps
Back to the lodge
Back to the crackling log fire
Hearts ablaze with Munro-bagging projects
A map of Scotland
A box of coloured pins
And a decent pair of climbing boots…
Kate M Reid
18th January 2007