B.O.W.W.O.W.

Beer of the Week:
B.O.W. may become beer of the month, or da B.O.M., or bomb out altogether if I continue this trend of missing multiple weeks. In an attempt to make up for my inexcusable delinquency, I retroactively deem "Ptarmigan" ale from Harviestoun brewery the beer of a fortnight ago. Served from the cask at Oran Mor here in Glasgow, the Ptarmigan fit well with the season (as ptarmigans - the bird now - always do, seasonally camouflaged as they are) - golden, crisp hops, floral, spicy, smooth...

Beer of last week also comes from Harviestoun brewery, which has quickly become one of my favorites here in Scotland (alongside Cairngorm brewery). "Bitter and Twisted," consumed from cask at numerous pubs here in Glasgow, was one of the first brews I tried upon arrival in January, and it immediately became my go-to beer. Like most of the beers that have been showing up on B.O.W. this summer, Bitter and Twisted is a light, fresh yeasty, and hopped up ale with an emphasis on citrus and tart. At first it reminded me of "Gumball Head" - a must-drink beer from Three Floyd's. Very drinkable.

Finally, the beer of this week is "Arran Blonde" from the Isle of Arran brewery. Though there was talk of visiting a local pub on Arran to sample some on cask, we had to rush to catch the ferry back to the mainland, and I had to settle for enjoying, back home at the flat, the few bottles I won for the Arran relay race. Like the other ales in this entry, Arran Blonde is light, clean-tasting, with very sweet and floral (and again with the citrus!) hops.

Whisky of the Week: no data :(

Part II: It's a Neds' World

Due to popular demand, I bring you more on Glasgow's ned-culture. From the satirical to the serious:



Yes, that is pretty much what neds talk like alright ... and yes, that is English.

Round Arran Relay

My first trip to the Isle of Arran - known for its oatcakes, aromatics, and for being a geographical microcosm of greater Scotland - was to run a relay race around the island's 56-mile perimeter. My Garscube mates and I boarded the behemoth Calmac ferry on a hazy, humid Saturday morning and arrived at Arran with sadly limited views of the beaches, vales, and prominences.
Later in the afternoon, it cleared somewhat, but the Brodick harbor, nestled in the hills and vales, remained obscured:

You can sort of see Brodick castle on the hillside coming into the harbor:
Goatfell, the highest peak on the island at 2,867 feet, is somewhere behind the veil of gray, I promise:
A Brodick backdrop to our island adventure race:

Although there were few great photo opportunities, the race and day trip were a great success. The Garscube Harriers fielded a team of 6 men and a team of 6 women for the relay. I completed an 11.5 mile leg up the west shore of Arran from Blackwaterfoot to Pirnmill, taking 1st place for that section in a time of 1:03:35 (5:32 pace). I was thrilled to obtain a prize of beer from the Isle of Arran brewery for my achievement. The men's team as a whole was right in the mix all the way around and finished 4th out of 26 teams (behind Irvine, Bellahouston, and Central). The women's team finished a respectable 2nd place behind a tough Bellahouston squad.

The Search for the Lost Valley

It turns out that the most difficult part of seeking and discovering the Lost Valley (Coire Gabhail) - an infamous site of the Macdonald's cattle rustling in the popular Glen Coe area of Scotland - is figuring out which of the dozen unmarked, tour-bus-stocked car parks along the main highway to Fort William is the right one. After stopping at an embarrassing four different places so as to get more precise directions to the appropriate trail, we arrived (simply through trial and error) and proceeded to follow the line of tourist-ants up into the now-found valley (Eirmis Gabhail). Oh, there it is, between sisters one and two of the landmark "Three Sisters" peaks:
Compared to our hike up Stob Binnein, the trail to the valley was quite pedestrian (as witnessed by the young children, disgruntled teens, and moms & dads in shorts & sandals who were making their way up the trail). Jack and I ready to make our brave ascent into the valley:

The trail followed a pristine mountain stream, allowing for some most picturesque shots along the babbling brook:
We arrived at the valley without incident and found it to be a peaceful, scenic place - perfect for the wee picnic lunch we packed. Britt & Jack in the valley:

Me proudly atop a v-0 bouldering problem:
Jack grows contemplative, trying to decide whether the lost valley most aptly fits Kant's category of the beautiful or the sublime in nature:
Looking back from whence we came:

B.O.W.W.O.W.

Beer of the Week: a good summer hiking ale - "Stirling Summer" from the Bridge of Allan brewery - served real ale at the Strathyre Inn. Mild and sweet with hops like a summer breeze to take the malty weight off. Though this week's beer was consumed in Strathyre after a day of munro bagging, the unofficial and extemporaneous category of 'pub of the week' would go to the Drover's Inn in the wee WHW stopping point of Inverarnen (just north of Loch Lomond). If you ever find yourself driving up into the highlands in the west of Scotland, do not pass this place by - an ancient stony mass of a building, roughly hewn with an interior blackened from the large fire that the kilt-clad staff continues to stoke with shovels of coal ... and enough clan weaponry and dead animal heads to conjure Mel Gibson's battle cry. Decent food too.


Whisky of the Week: cask strength Laphroaig 10 year: not subtle or smooth by any means - strong, peaty, medicinal - the prescription for a June-July stuck in 50 degree temps.

Running Log: Friday 7.4.08

5 mi. - Mugdock country park run with Britt & Jack; sunny, beautiful 65 degrees.
Week Total: 45 miles
Year Total: 1544 miles

Baggin' Stob Binnein

Stob Binnein [STOB BIN yen] is one of the highest peaks in the southern highlands at an elevation of 1165 meters, or 3822 feet. It should be noted that any Scottish mountain over 3000 feet is known as a "munro," and individuals who climb several (or all) of Scotland's 284 munros are said to "bag" munros. They are "munro baggers." And after this weekend, we would like to think that we are one of their number.

We approached Stob Beinnein from the east on a minor road (barely wide enough for a car - even though traffic proceeded in both directions) through the Trossachs national park - "Rob Roy Country." Now, for a hike that was only supposed to be 5 kilometers each way and reached a height of under 4000 feet, we entered this adventure thinking it would be merely a pleasant hill walk...

Boy, were we mistaken. Setting out in our running shoes, light clothing, and, with sheer aplomb, Britt in bluejeans, we found a scarcely visible path up the very steep, wet slope to Stob Invercarnaig - the top of which turned out to be much beyond what can be seen here in an early photo:
The early part of the climb was not all wet running shoes, scrambling on all fours, stepping into mud pockets, and feeling not an inch closer to the top - Jack's pack was excited to see a local farmer's sheep, and the wee lambs that pranced across the hill side. Tempting ... but NO Jack:
And after winding around the top of Stob Invercarnaig (and into the next unprepared for challenge -- a savagely pelting wind), we were greeted with outstanding views of Loch Voil and Loch Doine:
Thinking our triumphant summit was nearly complete (again, boy were we wrong!), we even posed for some family photographs:
Next we began a more gradual ascent to what -- as I would come to say another three times -- "must be the Stob Binnein." Britt, with the expansive highland backdrop, about half-way up the next section (Stob Invercarnaig can be seen in our wake):

Actually, what "must be Stob Binnein," turned out to be the "minor top" above Creag Antair. Jack celebrates and sniffs around the "top" (we didn't want to break the news to him yet):Each top brought more of the surrounding landscape into view, and we were inspired to push on:
And on...
Until we reached ... you guessed it ... what "must be Stob Binnein."
Actually, I was sitting atop Stob Coire an Lochain. The cloud cover, as seen behind me, would then part briefly enough to reveal a ridge heading even higher into the unknown. We were determined to press on - though the wind now surpassed savagery, and though the summit was no where in sight:
The road was bleak:
But we had already come so far:
Until another brief clearing brought the summit into view. That must be Stob Binnein:
Almost there...
Their faces say it all really:

B.O.W.W.O.W.

Beer of the Week: our apologies to Scotland, but this week's winner comes from its enervated neighbor to the south - "Pitchfork" from the Royal Clarence Hotel brewery (served at the Three Judges pub) - a pale ale with a hop profile that comes at you from every direction, aggressively, as if with a pitchfork, only not as scary, unpleasant, or harmful seeming.

Whisky of the Week: slow week for whisky-drinking, so we will take this time to honor our favorite from Islay (pronounced EYE-luh) - Caol Ila (pronounced CULL EE-luh), a taste of fresh sea air and smoky, earthy peat that lingers without overwhelming. Slainte Mhath! (pronounced SLAWN juh VAH, gaelic for "good health," but we sometimes like to say "slanty math" just to humor the locals)!