Dawn Patrol

Blair Fyffe on Yellow Wall at Laggan.

I'm back to the dawn patrol, surveying areas of Easter Ross for black grouse. I'd forgotten the amazing sense of privelage you get when you're out in the hills watching the horizon glow and grow with the day's new sun, and the peculiar evocative bubbles and cough calls these birds make as the males strut their stuff to show off for a mate. I'd also forgotten the soul-sinking feeling you get when your alarm whips you out of bed at 0400. Swings and roundabouts.

On the climbing front, the bouldering has been ticking over fine. I've just been visiting local crags between the showers. After the scrubbing I gave Burnside back in January it's looking spick and span. I managed the sit start to Gale Force at Laggan today with Blair Fyffe. I can't grade for toffee, but it bumps the grade up a notch from the standing start so depending on what that was it's now 7A or 7A+. I guess if it goes from a sitter you might as well do it. I had a day getting thrown off Primo at Am Fasgadh with Murdo a few weekends back, but otherwise I've not done much with a rope since the grit.

Gale Force going from the sitter. The stand start is great, but this makes for a much better problem.

And finally....

We were lucky enough to be invited down to Wales for Richie and Paula's wedding in Llechwedd Stale Caverns. A very cool place to get hitched and a really good day. Congratulations guys!

Words

Just a few of them this time.
Mike and Karen were happily married on Sunday. Twas a pleasant day at Creiff Hydro, ending with lots of alcohol. Top marks all round for all involved.
Last week the weather wasn't great so I didn't get up to a whole lot. One evening at the Hat was brought short by slimey conditions. One evening at the Hat later in the week saw me doing the last moves of Midnight.. (all cool people shorten the names of familiar routes/problems, so I will too, okay?) for the first time. In isolation they aren't that bad, but when dribbling and shaking with the exertion of the rest of the problem they are a tough wee cookie to crumble. Adding to that, a committing toe hook is going to make a tumble onto the big rock underneath you one to remember. However, I'm chuffed to have got this far in only a few short evenings in a few weeks. Now it feels like the stage is set and I just need to go away, get some endurance and some balls (or a spotter), and get a-sending.
To that end I went to the wall last week for a wee session and I'm planning on another one this eve. If only Kinlochleven wasn't so far away....
Chalky psyched hugs to all.

The Mountain

George, the living legend. Taken on the back of a speeding truck, sometime, somewhere.

The serious bit: It was a haven of tranquility amidst a sea of carnage. Bring it.

So, Tom and Lacey's wedding took place at Nancy and Georges place on Jake Reid Road, on the South Mountain, altenatively known as Gaspereau Mountain, deep woods Gaspereau or simply, The Mountain. Its a wee bit south of Wolfville, home of Acadia University, where Lacey and all her brides maids and maids of honour played rugger together (World Cup starts today, yayer!). Here are some photos that might start to paint a picture of our far too brief time up there.

The Young pretenders:

Brim, in his best man finery.

Tom early/late on his stag night

Ed, the court jester.

Tom, Lacey's dad Robert and Shotgun Steve on the way to The Library.

Phil looking longingly at his Keith's

Star of the show, Nancy. She put it all on and looked after everyone so well. Enjoyed a drop too.

Numerous people from back home couldn't make it so we put their faces on inflatable 'love' dolls. Em looks like normal...

Hazen doing what he does best. Microphone, vodka and a crowd. What a guy.

Ow, my liver and kidneys hurt

Hey y'all.
I'm still in the Scotia. What a fucking amazing week I just had. Far too much fun to recount but rest assured I have never been on a bender quite like that. 5 out of the 7 nights 'on the Mountain' were very drunk and very messy. I've never met such a friendly, welcoming, hardcore partying bunch of family and friends in my life. It's not the average posse that pretty much has beer for breakfast for a week in a row. Bloody brilliant.
Days were spent with Johns, Ed, Phil and Brim (the latter two I only just met and are wasters of the highest degree, in the best sense) helping clear up the yard and prepare for the wedding, playing keepy-ups and headers and volleys, playing washer-tosser (a quality take on boule using metal washers) and swimming in the lake. Oh and nights were spent drinking. The stag-do went well. Ed broke some-ones door, and Johnsey's boxers are still on the roof of the club in Wolfville.
Johnseys wedding was pretty as a picture. Held in Nancy and George's garden with a big marquee, a pig roast, tears, a hoe down, local hillbillies and a world of alcoholic endeavour. MCing was easy as pie and the speeches were amazing. Phil and Brim, the best men, excelled themselves. By the next day my body wasn't happy though. It all caught up and I was struck with a bout of depression. Mind you, my T-Total vow broke as soon as I got to Halifax last night and we went to visit the Keith's brewery.
Tomorrow I'm hoping to get a bus out to Herring Cove to pull down on some local granite by the sea. Maybe gonna try to hitch down to another spot called Chebucto head for the night (if there is somewhere out of the way to camp/bivi) for another day's cranking. Otherwise there's a friend of Nancy's that I should be able to stay with in Halifax. Then a night and a bit of a day in Halifax again before flying home.
Last night I shared a room with Pete, one of the shirelings who now lives in Dublin. T'was great to have a good catch up and drink the odd beer cos I don't get to see that much of him nowadays.
Anyhoo, I'll catch up and post lots of pictures when I'm back home.
Rave safe now...