Oh, goodness was that me....

Not much to say here about Gabe's costume choice this year...

Tony

Scotland part 2 and a little of London

(My apologies for the delay in posting) After two days in Inverness, a quaint town nestled seven miles north of Loch Ness in the Scottish Highlands, we traveled via rail to Aviemore, the outdoor activity center of Scotland; picture Whistler in the early 80's without the glamor of the village and all that brings. The Adventure Travel and Trade summit was staged to begin the next day and we snuck in a bit ahead of the majority of the 400+ delegates from around the world. The next four days were a whirlwind of activity for Cheryl and me. Cheryl was part of the photographic team bouncing from event to event recording speakers and happenings. A lot of her pictures were used on the big screen to update attendees on the day's activities and also on the web site. I was tasked with various duties and projects. We would wake around six, hit the ground running and crash back in bed at or around midnight. During the summit we met and worked with adventure travel industry leaders, guides, agents and press from literally around the world. Most notably was Dr. Sakena Yakoobi who spoke to inspire the industry to look outside itself and serve the world. She selflessly leads the way through her institute in Afghanistan: http://www.afghaninstituteoflearning.org/ We were all deeply humbled by her talk.............

Day one of the summit was a "Day of Adventure" with several activities provided for the delegates to experience the local area including whitewater rafting, hiking, mountain biking, nature walks, deer hunting, rock climbing, and canoeing. I was thankful to have the opportunity to get a spot on the Spey River Canoeing and whiskey tasting trip. It was hosted by David Craig who owns and runs http://www.speydescent.com/ , a small adventure company specializing in open canoe runs of the history rich Spey river. David was an amazing guide with an encyclopedic knowledge of the country side, local history, the river and of course Scotch Whiskies. We began with a short van ride to the put-in point where the boats were already waiting for our arrival. The weather was cool with what would become a strong tailwind and thankfully no rain. Our group of nine included writers, river guides, travel consultants and me, a firefighter. After a short paddle lesson and introduction to David's mistress (the Spey), we paired up and began the day on the river. I shared a boat with a freelance writer based in San Fransisco, Don, he was a great paddling buddy with just enough experience to make it a fun day. That's us, I'm in the blue Smurf hat. We floated the initial easy water and listened to David's descriptions of early Scottish river life. As we passed various geographic features, plants and homesteads David would expand his stories to included botany, geology and intriguing descriptions of bloody battles fought on local soil. Most of the names and titles allude my English speaking tongue but the pronunciations sounded romantically beautiful. Even if it was just a rock on top of a hill. The river led us through farmlands supporting sheep and cattle. Long ago the river banks were thick with trees resulting in a new fly fishing technique suitably called Speyfishing. Due to the dense woods at the fisherman's back a special style of casting was invented to eliminate the need for the traditional fly fishing back-cast. Eventually the local land owners mowed down the trees for improved view and easier river access. So today the dense woods are more like spots of random trees. The river meandered lazily through the country side and soon expanded to form a wider body of water. Just prior to crossing the open water we stopped for a breezy lunch of tea, coffee, homemade sandwiches and biscuits sweets. The company was friendly, the weather was lovely, and the service was over the top personal. David's wife had lovingly prepared three different sandwiches for the lot of us to enjoy and enjoy we did. There was mature cheddar with fruit chutney, salmon lox and ham sandwiches to choose from. All were equally as delicious. After lunch we made our way to the open water choosing not to tie up and raft but to make our way as several separate boats. The threatening whitecaps reached higher and higher as we crossed the lake. Thankfully we all reached the far side with not one capsized boat. Safely back in the calm waters of the Spey river main channel we continued our float toward the awaiting whiskey tasting. The next section of water brought with it a couple small areas of textured water requiring a greater level of concentration. Having cleared all but the final rapid we were welcomed to the take-out point by a set of pipes belting out into the heather and aspens. Yet we still had a small section of technical water. The romantic sound of the pipes combined with the late hour and the anticipation of some of the world's finest whiskey distracted us all resulting in a rather hilarious log-jam of canoes at the sharp left-hand bend. All went well and again we averted a capsize. After a small duty of loading boats we were led like piper-mice to our destination nestled in a carpet of ferns and heather. The tall trees hugged the small yurt where we were treated to mystically intimate tunes, wonderfully creative yarns of flavour planets, aging processes and the finer arts of Highland Scotch Whiskey distilling and aging. We had the immense honor of having Dr. Andrew Forrester, the Balvenie Ambassador to the UK, educate us on all that is Scotch Single Malt Whisky. So began our meandering of a path through the best of the Balvenie elixirs starting with the Signature moving to Single Barrel, then Double Wood. We made a short stop to examine the true pure spirit in its raw form before continuing on to the Portwood 21. Then a treat, we were blessed with a half dram of the wonderfully rare Thirty, a bottle of bronze goodness none of us would choose to afford. Finally we rounded out the pallet exercise with a tasting of the latest experiment of Peatwood, a malt with wonderful accent of peat introduced during the drying process of the barley. Our day of adventure ended with a late return to the hotel. We had passed the time of using the shuttle van and had to cram into David's personal vehicle, it was one last bit of fun before returning to the Summit.............................

The remaining three days of the summit were a blur of activity consisting of 15+ hour days of lectures, networking, and generally taking care of the delegates needs. We ate at meals sponsored by Scotland (haggis), Ecuador, Finland, Mexico, Brazil and others. It was exhausting, challenging and at times really fun. But when it was over we were all really glad. The final night ended with a few hours on the dance floor with delegates from all over the world. Cheryl and I scheduled seats on the buss to Edinburgh departing at 5am the next morning. We hastily packed and made our way bleary-eyed out to the buss. We spent a few hours touring Edinburgh and eventually met up with our traveling group for a train ride to London..........................

London brought with it a time of decompression from the stresses of the Summit, we each processed it a bit differently, overall we were happy to be done. Cheryl and I took a midnight walk on the Thames crossing the Tower Bridge and taking a ton of photos of the illuminated bridge and castle. While shooting the Tower Castle we actually saw a fox, red body and white tipped tail and all, slink out of the landscaping and shoot down an underpass tunnel into the night. (Most of the photos Cheryl took are larger files so I can't post them here, refer to her Facebook page for viewing when she gets them uploaded.) We spent the next day celebrating Cheryl's birthday on and off tour buses seeing the city and the sights. We ended up in the Soho district for dinner and a show, we saw STOMP in an small theatre. It was a blast! We walked around a bit and then caught the underground back to the Tower Station to make it a night. The final day in London we spent as a couple. We covered about 10 miles of the Thames river bank walk, visited the only firehouse in the city of London (had some great tea with the on-duty crew), and checked out a street market just as it was closing. We even enjoyed watching a movie crew filming the second "Jonny English" movie on the street next to our hotel...........................

We departed London the next morning catching a taxi to the airport. A little duty free shopping and a LONG flight home brought us to Sea-Tac only one hour after we departed. I still have a challenge with the math on that one.......................

Tony

Scotland

After flying across North America and the Pond, we arrived in London Heathrow with an hour to meet our connecting flight to Edinburgh. Rushing through Immigration and Customs we discover the weather is so bad that our flight is delayed for several hours. Stuck with a few hours on our hands the six of us sat in a pub and enjoyed a meal and a pint. On the TV screens we watched coverage of the rained out Ryder Cup; standing water on the fairways, rivulets on the greens and blasting winds. So began our trip to Scotland. Cheryl and I are traveling with members of the ATTA heading to Aviemore, Scotland for the Adventure Travel and Trade World Summit. Cheryl is the official event photographer and I am just a volunteer. It just so happens there is a marathon the day before the Summit in a small town thirty minutes north of Aviemore; the Baxters Loch Ness Marathon. It runs pretty much the length of Loch Ness. After a great meal we make our way to the gate and catch the short flight to Edinburgh. At this point Cheryl and I broke off from our travel partners to head out to Inverness for a day of exploration and preparation for the Sunday race. We left the airport riding in a double-decker bus to the train station. The half-hour trip was our introduction to Scotland. We sat up front on the top level to take it all in. We saw amazing old world architecture mixed with modern lines and materials. We experienced firsthand the adventure of driving the narrow roads. Our arrival at the train station was announced by a whiplash U-turn followed by a staccato parking job. The bus emptied quickly and folks scattered in all directions: some heading to the station, others along the stone sidewalks and still more down stairs leading to the nearby castle. Cheryl and I made our way to the station and booked out train to Inverness. We grabbed a small bite while we waited in the station. Out tickets guided us to the proper platform for the train and we were surprised to find it already there and ready to depart. We boarded, stowed our bags and found seats for the four hour ride through the night. The train departed five minutes early into the evening. About forty-five minutes later the conductor made his way to our car and requested our tickets. We dug them out of our pockets and presented them only to hear, “You are on the wrong train.” In the country for only a few hours and we are already on the wrong train. We explained that the reader-board said Inverness and he confirmed that this trail will eventually end up in Inverness. It just takes a much longer route and stops at every town along the way. The more direct train left five minutes after the train we were on from the other tracks on the same platform. Oops. Yes, we would end up in Inverness but several hours later than expected. Now, we had booked a quaint B&B in town with a late check in time of 9 pm. The weather delay meant we would not arrive until close to nine. Now with our train blunder we would not arrive until roughly 1 am. I was becoming concerned about reaching our destination and not being able to get in. We arrived as scheduled in Inverness. The town was mostly closed down and asleep sans the pubs. A few taxis waited outside the station for fares and random folks exiting pubs dotted the streets and sidewalks. We were not sure about the distance to the B&B and debated if we should take a taxi. The driver, hearing the address said if we didn’t mind a few stairs, it would only be a few minutes’ walk. We thanked him and made our way through the night. The rough hewn stone stairs were not too bad and soon we were at the top standing in an intersection analyzing our map in an effort to get orientated. A very friendly rather drunk man approached and offered assistance. We said he was walking home from the pub and was going our way. We found out that he and his wife, who by the way loves Americans, were married in San Francisco. We found the correct road; Southside. But we could not find the house, until another gentleman who was sober got us pointed in the correct direction. We parted with our new drunk friend and found 20 Southside Rd. The front door was cracked open allowing access to the foyer. We clicked the buzzer and were quickly greeted by a groggy teenage boy who kindly greeted us, took our orders for breakfast and showed us to our room. It was 1:15 in the morning. And we were asleep quickly. (Please take time to visit their site at: www.atholdene.com) The next morning we awoke still tired from the previous days’ adventures with planes, trains and…buses. Breakfast was served in the main dining area downstairs. Cheryl had porage and I had a traditional Scottish meal of eggs, ham, sausage and black pudding. It was a heavy and calorie rich plate. Freddy, the man of the house, said he would tell me what was in the pudding after I had finished eating. It was more like a paddy of black oatmeal, onion and spices fried in bacon fat. But there was a more gamey flavor there that I couldn’t quite make out. Later I found out that was the pigs’ blood. Yep, that's the flavor I couldn't place. Here is a view of the front of the B&B. Out the door and to the marathon check in. We made our way back through town, now in the daylight, to Bungth Park located in the center of Inverness. The River Ness quietly bisects the town and provides for wonderful Atlantic salmon fishery. Above are a few shots of guys fly fishing in the traditional spey style. Marathon check-in was just like any other check-in where you are asked toshow you entry info, check you name off the list, get your packet and confirm the correct race number. It was interesting being around runners from different countries. It wasn't all that different from races in the states, just different languages. The rest of the day was spent walking around the town. We stumbled on a small church hosting a wedding seen here with a few nervous gents outside, found a local shopping area with a butcher shop and even a "pound" store, and the local fire department (unfortunately they were out on a call).

Later in the afternoon we found a friendly taxi man who drove us the seven windy pasture lined miles to Loch Ness.As evening approached the city began to light up and present Cheryl with more photographic opportunities.

Our day done and souvenirs bought, we arranged to meet up with our group at a local pub; The Castle Pub. They rented a car and wanted to drive up to have dinner. It was a late night full of laughter and stories. Marathon day arrived welcomed by overcast skies and a light misty drizzle. Cheryl and I walked to the finish area so she could see me off aboard the awaiting buses and be driven to the start area.

This was the ninth running and it appears they are really getting popular. The Marathon has around three thousand entrants and the other events, 10k, 5k and children's Wee Nessie Run, added an additional couple thousand participants. The drive to the start was a meandering single lane white knuckle adventure. The Highland region was once densely forested long ago but the vast majority of those trees are long gone, used for castles, houses, and fire. The never ending rolling hills are blanketed with pink and white heather and various grasses marked only by the short stone walls and weathered wood post fences with barbed wire. The predominate pasture animal is sheep and there are a lot of them. We look out the bus windows during the drive taking it all in. Even the local folks enjoy the show on our glass movie screens. We spot a few deer, pheasant, shaggy Highland beef and grouse. Farm houses made of stone with slate roofs dot the route tucked in near small stands of trees established near water sources.

The actual start was a straight stretch of typically narrow road with woods on one side and a clearcut on the other. Yes, there is still logging in Scotland but you can see management in a replanting process. We all unload the buses and pour out onto the road, many vanishing into the woods to attend to personal needs. The announcers corralled us in, took our clothing bags, lined us up and, just as the pipe band made its way through the hoard to the starting line the, sounded the starting horn. The race began with a few miles of rolling downhill dotted with "pimple" uphills to the shores of Loch Ness. Holding back a bit, most of the experienced runners glided through the light rain reserving energy for the secret hills at mile nineteen and twenty. Cheryl and I had discovered the hills the previous day on our excursion to the Loch and the little town of Dores. As we reached the shore of the Loch Ness at around mile seven, the clouds broke and the sun triumphantly made its way out. I had studied the course a bit and anticipated a rather level shoreline run what I didn't expect was the continuation of the rolling hills. This course was a bugger. Arriving at the eighteen mile mark just a bit behind my goal pace, the real hills began. Mile nineteen stunk, I had to slog (fake running: when you try your hardest to look like you are running so you can mentally say "I didn't walk". That is when the kid on the trike passes you.) the steep parts, and mile twenty was worse. That's where my pace dropped into double digits and I knew I had lost hold of my goal of a 3:45 finish. I knew the hills had done me in but I was still running at at twenty one, two and three. Having attained the summit of mile twenty the train I was part began the five mile descent into the town of Inverness. I stayed on a reasonable pace ticking off the miles doing pace-math and playing the mental games it takes to stay focused. At the twenty five mile mark Cheryl met me and rattled off some shots.

I pushed through he last mile knowing the goal of running under four hours was in jeopardy. I had lost a few valuable minutes in the last couple miles and knew I would have to grit out the last mile to stay under. I crossed the main bridge with the snake of other runners over the River Ness while Cheryl crossed the narrow wooden footbridge downstream. I tried to dig for anything left upping my speed a bit and was then reminded of the last twenty five miles by a golf ball sized cramp in my left calf. It kept me from accelerating as I wished. I found a balance between cramping and speed and made it to the finish. I placed 975th out of 2489, finishing in 4:00:18.

The finish area was very organized and the volunteers took great care to get us our bags, shirts and finish medals, there was even a pint or two to be had.

We found the free showers for a quick rinse, stumbled back to the B&B to collect our bags, hopped aboard a train and headed for Aviemore for the ATTA Summit. Arriving in Aviemore we were greeted, along with delegates from all over the world, by the Visit Scotland tourism board.

Tony