Talisker: rude not to.

Today after initial confusion, we decided that the big thing in the sky was the sun and where better to hide from it but a distillery? Smoky, peaty with a burnt finish, but enough about the smell of Bob's tent, we started the tour with a wee dram and then experienced full on sensory overload. Whiskey making is smelly and the process is comple. Mash, Tuns, Scragg,  - sounds like the members of a Ska band but all represent stages in the process of turning barley and spring water into profits for Diagio. (Not, as i discovered an Argentinian centre forward, but a giant drinks corporation which has swallowed up most of the independent distillers) Anyway, we're back at base now preparing for the last supper at the Ford Galaxy Bar and Grill  before we break camp tomorrow and head back to Devon. Off with the boots (for three of us anyway) and back to reality. It's been a complete blast (with gusts of up to 60mph) Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

Sgurr Nan Anagram!

Here is proof that yesterday, despite the odds - elemental weather, dicky knees, general apathy etc, your four gutbusters made it on to the Cullin Ridge. It was a bit disconcerting that we saw absolutely no one else all day (obviously put off by the violently split infinitives in the previous forecast). But it's amazing what you can endure on 2 oatcakes, a tube of Primula and 700 wine gums. So after a soggy, sloggy ascent, we finally bagged 2 Munros - Sgurr Fiona's Corrie thing and that other lad with the trig point on it. (Look them up, i'm a bit hazy on the details) Then, Alex's muscles blew up which prevented us experimenting further with a wee 'airy' shortcut down he'd picked from his 1970 guide 'Death wore Gabro' So, we fell back down the way we came in a savage squall of rain and embrocation and the rest is pub Today we did feck all and plenty of it. Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

Snow joke.

The pic is of tomorrow's forecast on the Cullin ridge. Amazing weather for late May. We'll be careful, of course. It might all end in a daring ascent of the North face of the Sligachan Inn... Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

Hebridean traditional beach craft

Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

The patter of tiny jokes...

Conversation in queue for ferry: Alex: 'don't they make you queue for a long time here.' Ian: 'It's to let the wee girl sell you winkles.' Trevor: 'not today, she's pulled a muscle.' You have to be here. Bring a coat. Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

On the edge!

Arrived safe in the Hebridies. The works Galaxy stopped weeping three stroke. Majestic, bleak, windswept, mysterious. But enough about the Ferry toilets. Tis windy and staggeringly empty here but the most gorgeous carribean style beaches. With arctic style windchill. The attached pic shows a pile of stones. I think we're in a quarry. But the critical thing is, Ruth, Bob wasn't here. Honest. Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

I mean this oil!

Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

Oh bollocks.

This oil should be in the Galaxy.... Surgery in Portree 1530. Pray for us Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

'Damn you Marjorie, you aren't going to rule the roost in Kidderminster!!'

Just something Bob said in the pelting rain 1000ft up which made me laugh. Who is like them? Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

Mamor-es are made of this.

Sadly, today your three musketeers took one look at the forecast and decided to go the long way to Fort William rather than 'over the top.' It was a rather challenging and sometimes beautiful 16 miles in the drizzle but the clouds parted on the way down past the Ben to give wondrous views and take our minds off the state of out knees. Topics discussed rangd from 'what happened to chilblains' to a rather heated discussion about an infamous episode of Rainbow. Trevo found a use for his buff which we think is illegal in the state of Utah. But here we are in the bunkhouse of the Ben Nevis Inn, showered powdered and braced with Ibuprofen. I'd say almost certainly guaranteed! Tonight is our last night before the much anticipated arrival of the Gaffer in his rejuvenated Ford Galaxy tomorrow at exactly 10.27. Like the Rapture only later. Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

Time to rescue them!

It's all gone very quiet up there. Visions of the three of them limping
down Glen Nevis in the dark swim before my eyes.
But it's OK, I'm on my way with tents, spare socks and Kendal Mint
Cake. The only problem is that the car's so full I have had to leave
IAN'S KIT behind. Sorry.

Getting your 5 a day

After a breezy 8 miler in horizontal hail we hit Kinlochleven in search of some real Scottish home cooking. But we couldn't find any, so had these instead. Sprinkled with Zantac. Trevor has just emerged from the shower looking and sounding like Swiss Tony and singing Roger Whittaker songs so I need to hide. Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

Fw: Battling the elements (and some Marines)

Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

---

From: Ian Acheson <ian.acheson@yahoo.com>;
To: ian.acheson.gutbuster@blogspot.com <ian.acheson.gutbuster@blogspot.com>;
Subject: Battling the elements (and some Marines)
Sent: Tue, May 24, 2011 6:50:25 AM

Last night we arrived in Glencoe in the middle of a modest hurricane. The two mile walk to the hostel was uneventful if you can forget the enormous tree which fell across the road just in front of us just before the entrance. And I won't, I can tell you. This plunged the whole place into darkness so there was nothing else for it but to drop our kit and make best speed for the Clachaig Inn. The juice was back on as we arrived and a good night was had by all, including coming second in the pub quiz - Alex, we missed your input on ancient Greece apparently. When we swapped quiz papers at the end, we were initially given the team next to ours, the Cairngorm Conquerors - a group of Her Majesty's finest warriors. With his gift for self-preservation, Trevor quickly palmed them off on another table ( I'm sorry, I haven't a clue) and we were spared a battering because as intellectuals, they were very fine sailors. I'm rambling now, and maybe later, who knows? Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

Meanwhile ....

....., back at Mission Control, we hear of the closure of Scottish
airspace due to volcanic activity and thousands of houses throughout the
highlands without power due to storms. Good job the cavalry's coming -
though still don't know in what as the Galaxy's in pieces all over Venn
Park Garage and the sucking of teeth has been prolonged.

Richard says to give him till lunchtime Tuesday. Then he'll know whether
the problem is fixable. If it's not, will it be too late to hire a car
on Wednesday, I wonder? Tension builds, and the advance party will not
know what's happening until they look out of the window of their
bunkhouse at 10:47 on Thursday morning.

The advance party will now be out of range of civilisation as they walk
up Glencoe and over the Devil's Staircase to Kinlochleven. So, to keep
you entertained through the radio blackout, here is a link to a
two-minute YouTube video of past exploits.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Vet7Zw1HX0

Turn up the sound and marvel at the daring-do!

Bit of a blow

The maddest weather. On the road stuck behind an accident near Glencoe ski centre. The wind is so strong even in a heavy bus its like travelling inside a tumble drier. Switched on. Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

The Eagles have landed (with a bang)

Flight designation JED-I (really) fell out of the bluster more or less intact. The force was with us in the form of a headwind so strong we landed before we took off. Bob is preoccupied with his straps. More on that story later. Now safely installed on the packed Glencoe Flyer wondering about the fate of the Ford Galaxy... Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

ere we go!

Does this email to blog malarkey work?

I guess I'll find out! Just back from depositing the rest of our kit with Big Al who assures us he will be in some sort of car to RV with us on Thursday. Although I'm not sure horselesscarriage.com is the best approach. Anyway, to bed with an improving novel and the last of my Glucosamine.Tomorrow we are airborne! (volcano permitting)

Ode to a Tent

Oh Vango Banshee
Oh Vango Banshee
I'd forgotten that you're
So impossibly wee
I should have resisted
Those cakes and those pies
Because to be honest
You aren't now my size
You're compact and light
But your headroom is shite
Designed by a boffin
You're a waterproof coffin
Oh Vango Banshee
Oh Vango Banshee
I think I'll check into
A nice B&B

Ian (aged 5 1/2)

Car Wars

We need some wheels for Scotland. The plan is the advance party is being picked up by Alex who will have driven himself into the insomnia record books to rendezvous with us up Scotland on Thursday next, apparently at 10.27 exactly.

The problem is the works Galaxy. For those living away from the Teign valley, this is a museum piece people carrier which has transported the Gibson tribe for many years. Sadly, time and physics have taken their toll and we're told the prospects of Al rattling into Fort William in his beloved Ford are pants.

But we'll know next Monday when Venn Park garage gives their final verdict. As the advance party will be away by then we are leaving it to him to arrive in something with four seats and a boot. And our clean kit! Perhaps Christow Palace FC can help? Maybe a benefit match? Alex, no pressure but we're counting on you!

Mixing my Marilyns

It has been pointed out to me that when I talked about Monroes in my last post, I was obviously thinking about a different set of twin peaks than Hugh Munro had in mind.

We will potentially bag the greatest number of Munros (10) when we attempt to cross the Mamores (why does every mountain have a pun coming out of it?)

But we might not have the inclination to do any of them due to weather, internal dissent, wasting diseases or getting lost. I think we will though because I'm going to make the group flag today and we have to have something to plant it on!

A note about the flag - inspired by Trevor (I think), the flag is a series of symbols which apparently summarise our dominant characters.I don't know how to reproduce them here but this is a description

Bob:  Praying hands - he is Zen about all things. Frequently being asked for reassurance that 'everything is all right.' Good source of information on British Leyland and British Leylines.

Trevor: Square. Not to do with his dress sense but rather illustrating his role as camera man, filling the frames with sweaty men (ooh-er) Frequently to be heard saying, 'steady the buffs.'  Good source of information on Trout and Sweedish netball.

Alex: Triangle. Reflects inability to walk along and superior ability to walk up anything with a ludicrously dangerous profile. Frequently to be heard saying, 'it's not an abyss, it's an airy step.' Good source of information on extrusions and Malt.

Ian: right angle. Apparently a salute to reflect deep psychological need to be in charge and in uniform. Frequently. Far to frequently for other three. Good source of information on law relating to sex with farm animals.

These symbols together on a sheet look like the name of a Hebrew airline. But the tattered remnant will fly over a Munro. This I swear by the power of Ibuprofen!

It's time for special pants!

Hello, it's that time of the year again, when Bob, Trevor, Ian and mostly Alex potter off to Scotland to do a spot of climbing, walking and eating, not necessarily in that order.

After doing this for four years we've learned that the best way to get up anything - even stairs - is to start the day saturated in Cholesterol. Celtic graveyards indicate that the most efficient way of loading up on this precious fuel is via the 'Full Scottish' breakfast - aka The Gutbuster. Eating a Gutbuster, dealing with its complex aftermath and anticipating the next one as we fall up another Monroe forms much of how we spend our days.

But there's more to our walking trips than a Gutbuster. Probably. So here, on screen for the first time for anybody that's interested is a sort of a chronicle of how and why four middle aged men want to haul their lumpy undercarriages over the most spectacular scenery in Britain.

If I've got the widgets right, I'll be able to post the odd situation report whenever we get a signal. If not, you'll just have to use your imagination to recreate the scene. And a lot of lard.

Alba gu brath! (ish)