David's big Dirc debut Dec 11

David Joe Fraser Lucy Laurie Derek Alan

Our new social sec has quickly discovered some of the pitfalls of event organising but he stood for no nonsense and put his hand down with a firm foot to sort out the 'knitting needle' lady at the Pottery place. Thankfully the 'rugger' bugger at Newtonmore seemed to be more on our wavelength and Dave booked us in.

Our weekend started well when we teamed up for Bacon rolls at the up-market House of Bruar burger van. The weather forecast looked suicidal (50 gusting to 90, windchill of -22, whiteout, chance of thunder) but when we reached the lay-bye just out of Dalwhinnie it looked worth at least setting off. With extra layers on, the three mile run in felt fine and we soon reached the foot of the spectacular gorge called the Dirc Mhor (not 'dick' David!) The mile of boulder choked gorge between the big rock walls was slow going with it's skitey dusting of snow and as soon as we reached the open hill beyond we were exposed to the full force of the weather. If the tail enders had taken much longer to appear our frozen 'dangly bits' felt in danger of falling off. Reunited we trudged up the open hillside into the murk following my ancient compass which amazingly got us straight to the summit of the Fara at just under 3000'. Massive cairn but views nil! As soon as I shouted 'the pub' the Lomie Lemmings shot off in the wrong direction but the compass set us right, off down the snowy, north east ridge back towards the cars and of course the 'bairns' had to stop to play in every snowdrift. Out of the cloud the late afternoon sun on Meaghaidh looked great and the land rover track sped us down to the ford across the river and back to the cars.

A very nice elderly lady  welcomed us to the cosy bunkhouse - as cosy as it could be with the central heating broken down! - but promptly set-to getting a fire blazing in the range. Before Joe had time to say 'Crianlarich' we were warming up with a plate of Jabber's delicious Polish broth and our resident master of wine had the McGoggins toasting nicely in front of the fire. In no time we were ensconced comfortably, glass in hand, feeling at one with world. Not for long though - Joe and Oz were itching for action - Newtonmore (or Shintyfl****ville according to Pat's text??) beckoned!

Joe and Dave set off early to 'count' the N'more pubs. Eventually, after teaming up in the footie pub, we found our way to the hotel for grub where Derek appreciated the local taste for chilled red wine - not! We fell back into one of our earlier drinking places on the way back but most wimped out to leave David and Joe fraternising with the natives and David having a 'shot' (or several) at winning party hats.

We were up at a reasonable hour (considering!) but with Fraser appearing a tad grumpy at being locked out of his bedroom and having to spent a freezing night on the sofa. After farewells, Fraser headed along to the Fort, Laurie and Derek headed south to deliver Lucy to her train while David, Alan and Joe enjoyed the greasy delights of the transport cafe - the veggie breakfast was wonderful!

David, Alan and Joe rounded off a fine weekend with an enjoyable ascent of Ben Vrackie in the snow (Alan being noticeably less jaded!) followed by a libation (the pouring out of a drink offering to a God!) in the Moulin.

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