Today was important. It’s a year to the day since Dario Melaragni died so suddenly on Lochnagar and, by decree of the Subversive Firefighting Pirate (sorry… forum link now defunct), West Highland Way Race followers everywhere were going to be taking a wee dram in his memory at 8:00pm. Now, I’d decided to take mine at the top of the Devil’s Staircase (scene of my own little memorial run last July), but was also out for a ride on the mountain bike earlier…
Not got much to say about the bike ride except that I was working hard (nearly 20 miles round the Loch with an additional 4-mile diversion up and down the forestry track above the mausoleum in under 100 minutes door-to-door) and the main ’round the Loch’ part (three times topping 30mph according to the GPS) taking about 68 mins. Which sounds OK for a MTB, but positively pedestrian compared to our young Olympic hopeful Ben Miller’s recent sub-41 on his road bike (something I somewhat disbelievingly have to believe when he was averaging about my top speed today)! But today’s ride was also noteworthy for me getting ‘bitten’ by a dog, as this wee collie about halfway up the forestry track managed to get a nibble (‘she’s never done that before’) at my lower left leg before her owner could get her on the lead. Fortunately (and unusually for me) I was wearing leggings and with no skin broken there seemed little real intent to take my leg off, but it was still a slightly disconcerting experience for someone who’s naturally scared of dogs and I can still just about feel it hours later.
And so to tonight’s dram up the top of the Devil’s. It was pouring just before I set off (giving myself 80 minutes to jog up the ‘long’ side when I’d normally make it over and down to Altnafeadh in about an hour) so I was somewhat overdressed for summer evening running in leggings (another pair), half-zip top, waterproofs, WHW Race buff (the 2010 one with Dario’s name on it) and gloves, but mindful that I might get cold and wet hanging about up there. And, while it didn’t actually rain again, I was quite tired from the hard bike ride (no coasting when you’re pedalling downhill as well as up!), arrived with 15 minutes to spare (during which some walkers came past heading for Kinloch) and was ultimately quite glad of the extra clothing. Then, at 8:00pm on the dot, I breached the hip-flask (filled with Highland Park), made a silly wee speech (yes, really!) and wandered to-and-fro between the twin cairns for about eight minutes until the flask (bigger than it looks?) was empty. And then I jogged back to Kinloch, passing the walkers just beyond the Allt a’ Choire Odhair-mhoir and getting home just before 9:00pm.
For the record, the photos are awful because I took them on my phone and I never take photos with my phone because phones are for phoning and cameras are for photography! But perhaps we can forgive them their awfulness when it’s the spirit (literally in this case!) that matters here. And, more importantly than that, perhaps we can spare another thought for the wee man whose race is still changing lives a year after he left us. On which note I could tell you what I said up at the cairns, but would rather point you towards Keith’s poem (originally posted to his blog on 21 July 2009 but now also to the WHW Race Forum topic linked above), which says it all so succinctly.
