Tuesday 7 July 2009

Glen Tilt awayday

So, arrangements made to meet at Taylor Park at 0945 so as to be at Glen Tilt for an 1100 start. Tell Judith that we're meeting at 0930 ( to ensure promptness) and then Alzheimers strikes. Get to 0940 and conviction descends that no-one else is coming after all. So off we drive, leaving others who arrive properly at 0945 to puzzle out where we are. The joys of old age. And I didn't even need to climb any stairs.

After a pleasant, gentle amble through the Perthshire countryside holding up lots of cars and caravans along the single-carriageway sections of the A9, we finally reach the Tilt Hotel where the satnav tells us we've arrived at our destination. Oh no we haven't, oh yes we have - real
pantomime. Fortunately, me having been to our destination before, the satnav is actually redundant - just fun to find out how rubbish it is sometimes. So into the Old Bridge of Tilt car park where walkers about to do something sensible can't help staring at the couple who are clearly intent on doing something not sensible.

11 o'clock approaches and we're still alone. Great. We can choose the route and the speed.
Then 1058 arrives with a car full of four Harriers bemused to find they're not alone. Joy. Someone else to take decisions. But which way to go? Up into the hills and find the rough track along the glen. And there was I thinking alongside the river wasn't a bad option. Still, very nice to have the company and a bit of route-finding to boot.



So down the road then, oops, up the road. And up. And up. Nice views though. Perfect location for howitzers to shell Blair Castle. As the view is embraced, four of the company think it's really amusing when Judith says she's forgotten her water bottle. Gordon admits he makes that mistake himself sometimes too while Fiona smugly mentions her Camelbak. Judith returns her hat to its proper place and realises where she left the water bottle.



Unexpectedly, whilst Kona was apparently watering a horse no-one had seen her bring, Gordon offered to share a little of his expert knowledge of Malaysian love dancing. Judith attempted to try the "ahs a-baht it" position whilst Gordon explained about the importance of flexible hip movements. The audience were enraptured and could only utter low coos of appreciation.



As a closing gesture on this phase of our adventure, Gordon kindly demonstrates the gate-closing and knee-lift elements of his vast armoury of knowledge of Far Eastern mystical exercises for body and mind. We are all grateful.







And so the party runs on towards the North and their rendezvous with destiny unaware that across the valley, the Rifle Club is seeking out practice targets with the upcoming Deer-hunting season about to get under way. Judith's frequent references to some-one who can be a real pain in the **** seem about to be confirmed in dramatic fashion.


As it becomes clear that danger may lie ahead, two of the ladies in the group rush forwards to warn Judith of impending dis-arse-ter. Putting completely aside all thoughts of a competitive sprint for the line, the two throw themselves at high speed into the rescue mission which Fiona wins entirely accidentally by a quick body dip at the camera point.




As shooting continues to echo threateningly down the glen and just when it seems that all the efforts of the team may be in vain, as if by magic the Three Champions suddenly appear on the opposite bank of the river.




Gesturing wildly at each other with their fingers in what seems to indicate the number of hundred metres to the river bridge - namely two - the Champions and the group of once-apprehensive runners meet in wild celebration at the Marble Bridge. The Cool Dude with the ultra-dudey footwear in racing puce, when asked his moniker, replies in the fashion that has women around the world swooning "I'm The Doctor, just The Doctor. And don't ask Who."




So the Ordinary and the Extra-ordinary set off to return whence they came and find sustenance. On the way, Gordon gives further examples of the Malaysian Horse position; great for extra suppleness and strength.

Seonaid decides that the dead sheep further up the burn will probably have added much needed flavour to the otherwise tasteless Scottish water. Since returning from the run, however, no information is currently available on Seonaid's whereabouts.














And so the stalwart group, shorn of Kona's company as she races off with one of the Champions so as to get the best seat for lunch, runs briskly towards the bealach and onwards to rest, recuperation, (bread) rolls & soup and recreational conversation. Gordon demonstrates the value of ready-sunburned elbows to go with a very manly hip swing whilst Seonaid starts to wonder about the effect of that burn water on her shorts. Judith is encouraged to lead the way by the slightly leg-weary group who know she will not lead them into premature exhaustion.

When the group came within shooting distance of the stagmen, discretion (not to mention red flags, taped-off tracks and dire warnings) decided that the route should swing over Gilbert's Bridge and the gentle, tree-lined route by the side of the Tilt River. Despite careful scrutiny, no sign is detected that the river did, indeed, show any sign of a tilt. Must have been tiredness. Here the author is persuaded to pose on said bridge with his wife (far right of picture) and two proper runners.

So to lunch at The House of Bruar where groups of often unpleasantly-smelling and sweaty individuals intent on restoring their lack of calories at the lunch counter mingled freely with the arriving fragrant Strathearn Harriers. Having parted with funds that implied a foreign exchange rate of approximately two pounds Sterling to one pound Bruar, the group promised to 'do this again' one day and went their several ways. Oh happy they that did partake this day and unhappy those who laid abed.

Colin