Not Amused

Saturday was free and I was looking forward to some more lone slab warrior action on Firestone and another blue-sky day like this:


However, when I looked out of the window on Saturday morning I saw this:


Now, I don’t know much about the intricacies of global weather systems, but it’s June and this is just bloody rude. I spend weeks shoveling snow, crossing fingers, doing ritual dances and sticking pins in voodoo snow flakes to get rid of it from the project, and it starts falling out of the bloody sky again. Rude. Plain rude. What the hell am I supposed to blog about now?

Well, I’m afraid you don’t get to miss the dubious pleasure of the weekly Soft Rock sermon that easily, so instead I’ll find something else to witter on about.

Here are ten random thoughts rattling around my hollow skull:

1. The BBC have been bigging up poetry of late in their Poetry Season. Big thumbs up. Don’t worry boys, there are some manly poems in there too. Grrrr.

2. Just finished Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time. It’s very good, but I fear that books that take a few days to finish will be forgotten in roughly the same time. Just started Crime and Punishment to alleviate said fear.

3. Managed to keep the positive momentum up from the start of the rock climbing season and have managed a few routes I’ve wanted to do for ages: The Magic Crack, The Needle, Dracula, The Bug, Pete’s Wall, to name but a few. Smug.

Starting up the mammoth pitch of The Bug at Creag Mor Tollaidh

4. Have noticed that words in songs/poems/films etc. bear more relevance when you’re feeling a bit down in the dumps. Every cloud has a silver lining.

5. My Dad just got called up to play for the England Over 55’s men’s hockey team. Now that is one cool cat.

6. Still rinsing out Mumford and Son’s tunes at high volume, but they’ve been joined by Lisa Hannigan as well. Folkey dokey. At the other end of the spectrum, looking forward to Kissy Sell Out’s forthcoming album.

7. My indoor bouldering abilities seem inversely proportional to my success at on-sight trad climbing. A small price to pay.

8. Just back from a day’s climbing near Gairloch. Slowly coming round to Jones’ view that Slioch is the finest Scottish hill. Looked particularly doom-laden and menacing under swirling purple clouds as we drove past.

9. Starting a load of fieldwork for some black grouse habitat research at work tomorrow. Are my bryophyte ID skills up to the task? That's mosses for those not in the know.

10. Not fallen off a route yet this year. The clock is ticking.

The pilgrimage to Loch Avon and granite heaven

That snow better melt soon otherwise I’ll have to think of ten more things for next week.