0545 and the alarm goes off; a planned excursion to see Don; we played his songs together (wtih John and Cliff and occasionally Jan and Sarah and Marty) ooooh about 15 years ago; every Tuesday night at the Applehouse. We also go back way further to the Johnny Brogan's Soccer Cosmonauts era of watching Stirling Albion. For many a long year we'd stood on the terraces at Annfield, drawn like several hundred other randoms from the county to watch teams of varying degrees of competence and skill don the red and white of Stirling Albion. More reasonably it was an excuse to hang out and chat with your mates for 90 minutes once a week, sometimes with a beer afterwards.

If you read the Twilight eulogy of mid December, Don was also in as part of this wider gang. Happy times.

Anyhoo, he quit his council road engineer job about 17 years ago, jumped before he was pushed. And reinvented himself as a tour guide, setting up a company that offered free tours of the Highlands. He invested his time and energy in that whilst I invested my time and energy in my children.

Turns out his office is /was based along West Harbour Road and I ran into him in early December; chatted briefly and promised to catch up properly sometime soon. I knew he was taking January and February off and as he lives in the Trossachs, it's not somewhere I pass very often, so...

I messaged him a week or two back and said I'd try and come out and see him in his lodge house on the banks of Loch Achray and Saturday was set. 

I cycled into town; bought my ticket at the station from a machine, boarded the 0758 to Dunblane; one other person in at the other end of the carraige I was in.

6 people got off at Dunblane, and off I went. Out the Doune Road, onto the cycle path (NCN 7) and zipped through Doune, across the Teith and round the back of Deanston, taking to the back roads to Callander.

It's lumpy country, not the smooth flatness that East Lothian has pampered me with. I passed Tall Paul's parents old house - like mine, they moved out into a smaller more villagey location about 5 years ago; ignored the winding up hill towards Port of Menteith - a well trodden path for me over the years.

Sweeping down to Callander; a hard left along the Invertrossachs road; Ben Ledi with a smattering of snow across the upper slopes. A old easterly wind kinda helping me but not...? Don passed me between Callander and Brig o Turk; and I ducked off around the southside of Loch Achray to peruse my quarry - Ben A'an. A tiny hill but with impressive views. Not classified, but still worth a look. Extra is the view of the Trossachs Kirk and Ben A'an - Don's current abode is just out of shot on the right)

As I swept around the south then west end, I could already see an overflowing car park; social isolation? Eh? Cars also lined the side of the road. There could easily have been more than the 500 people limit for gatherings...!

I sighed and sped up the hill; touched and turned at the top and messaged Don to get the kettle on. 57 minutes up and down.

Two cups of tea and symbolically 90 minutes of chat ensued. We covered a lot; but mostly the current big news. Don is generally isolated - an antidote to his bonhomie as a tour guide; when he's off he likes to be home, alone. Guitar out, writing, consuming books.. so he's well used to self isolation. With the arse falling out of the tourist industry, he's out of work. He has capital to fall back on and will ride out this year in a frugal existance and quite philosphical about his time alone in the wilds.

I had to leave; aware I had 20 miles into a 'stiff breeze' to get the train home; and I'll not lie - it was a struggle at times; but thankfully only 20 miles. I did ponder the extra 7 to see the folks but into that wind I would have been dead on my bike feet.

So at 4 I boarded another train with 3 others and headed home. To Hers. She'd been occupied with overtime; and so we did a brief sweep about the supermarket before hunkering down for the night. The lass was being socially irresponsible at a sleep over. I rolled my eyes, but... After rolling my eyes, I rolled over and fell asleep.
75 km will do that to a lad.

**No Craftyninis were harmed in the making of this blip**