Every now and again life just goes pear shaped. It happens on a fairly regular basis for me and Iíve no reason to believe I am any more unlucky than anyone else so Iím going g to take a wild guess and suppose it happens to you too. One minute everything seems to be going fairly smoothly then next a piano falls from the sky, a tidal wave rushes down the river or your job, the plans you had for the next couple of years, all fall apart spontaneously. Well for me it wasnít the piano or the tidal wave so Iíll leave you to guess.
So Sunday didnít start well, my mind was in turmoil and everything was pretty gloomy so I did the only thing I could think of and went up a hill. To be honest it could probably have been any hill but for me it was Tom a Choinich in Glen Affric. I had been thinking of walking into a bothy on Sunday but the weather forecast was just too good Ėcold, bright and no wind. Part of me wondered if perhaps that might be the only day we get this winter worth going out so I better not spend it plodding up a glen weighed down by coal and whisky. This was a day for the tops and so I flung my chocolate and pork pie, (Yes the diet is over) into my rucksack and headed off along the winding road that runs from Inverness to Cannich. Soon the car temperature gauge was reading -7 and I was driving along a road sparkling with hoar frost with the sun peeping over the hills like a red faced farmer.