There is one constant that links all my outdoor adventures. Swim, bike, run, walk, whatever. Even golf on very rare occasions. Regardless of the pursuit, there should be space in the middle or the end for cake.
A 10mile walk through Gleann Lichd today looking up at the forbidding 5 sisters of Kintail which flanked our route. I’m not sure what drives people to want to always reach the highest point of the hills. The power and majesty and inhospitable nature shows clearly from below.
Being Wilma, I was prepared for everything. That meant that when we were on the return trip, a short dip in the River Croe beckoned.
There’s been very little rain, so a risk of beaching. No, let’s get rid of the whale metaphors and call it a risk of grounding. There was enough depth in the middle of the flow to allow five minutes peaceful pottering up and down supervised by JT. Sense prevailed; there weren’t many people around, but too many for skinny dipping. There wasn’t really anywhere to go or records to break, so head up breaststroke sans goggles and cap was quite sufficient and helped maintain a reasonable body temperature. Is it a cliche to say life affirming? Regardless, it was.
Then bundled into the extra layers and off on the hunt for cake. I looked at the label on the lovely cake in Ardelve’s All the Goodness. Zibo it said. I’d never heard of zibo and thought it kind of looked like a bakewell. So I asked the nice man, what’s in your zibo?
I blame the pit stop which resulted in a sneaky beer in the sun before lunch. Now that wasn’t very Wilma.