As a result of the camera malfunction, my previous post (Dundreich. Remember ?) may have seemed rather brusque, and I would like to update the readership and add some detail. I may also include a directors cut, a couple of remixes and a bonus track.
Firstly the camera. I have rewired the PCB and reconfigured the software and it now appears to be working. Oh, and I recharged the battery.You didn't miss a lot - there were some pics of interesting stuff in my usual anti-photography style, but views were restricted by the weather. Which is a pity, because Jeffries Corse is right on the north scarp of the Moorfoots, with views over Midlothian, Edinburgh and Fife on a good day.
Then there was the hen harriers. A pair apparently "getting to know each other". I was a wee bit surprised at recent talk of potential extinction. They're not common , but have never been rare in the Southern Uplands and there is a layby just up the road from Eddleston where I often used to stop for lunch and watch one hunting - at low level like this probably for meadow pipits rather than grouse. I don't know to what degree they are persecuted by keepers, but it certainly doesn't require a gun or carbofuran to restrict their numbers - just a "careless" boot !
And then there was the barbed wire. Back when I occasionally did a bit of fencing, if barb was required it went in as the second-top strand. Now it seems to fashionable to have as the top strand.
I blame Alec Salmond. Fat, jambo fud !
And finally, I discovered later that I had come within inches of two top-style bloggers on the bus home. However, they were apparently too busy discussing Mike Knipe's arse to notice the distinguished looking elderly gentleman with sheep shit on his shoes who boarded their bus at Eddleston. So it goes.
Laura & Louise?
ReplyDeleteGurls always talk about men's arses. I bought a new pair of strides in the nice little shop at Wasdale Head on Saturday. The gurl in our party said I should buy a better arse to go with them.
Oh my! I do remember thinking "There's a gentleman walker", but you are quite right, we were too busy gassing. Not about Mike's arse, as it happens, but maybe his musical accompaniment to our first wild camp. You should have interrupted us and said hello, next time!
ReplyDeleteNever mind the bonus track where's the tray round your neck and the red ended torch ? mines a lime mivvy and some butterkiss
ReplyDeletecheers Danny
Alan. Women can be so cruel ! (but maybe you've discovered that already ?)
ReplyDeleteLouise. Quite a coincidence. I knew Mike had a party in the area, but at the time had no idea who was in it, or that anyone would be returning to Edinburgh by public transport.
Danny. You're too late,luv. All I've got left is a packet of Spangles and 10 Bristol.