Mountains and molehills

A couple of weeks ago I had a wee grumble about the fact that there were only 5 tests held during the whole of May, in Ullapool. Of course, it may have been possible that there were other tests scheduled, but they were cancelled at short notice. Well, the DSA have gone mad for June, no less than eight of my pupils have their tests booked…. All on the same day.

I booked some of them, so I know what times they are, but I am struggling to work out how the other tests fit in to the day. Maybe they are sending two examiners up to Ullapool? Maybe they have stretched the test times from 8.40am to 5.37pm? Even then, it will be a bit of a squeeze to fit all eight tests in.
My first course of action will be to get all eight pupils to confirm their test time (and date) in triplicate. Once I have confirmation, then I will work out how on Earth I will accommodate them all. Not ideal for my pupils; naturally they are all asking if they can have a lesson immediately before their test, but, unless Professor Hawking can crack time travel in the next couple of weeks, it is not going to be possible.

I’m enjoying a fine bacon and egg roll in the Tea Store in Ullapool, but, outside, it is not the greatest weather I have seen here (being a Bank Holiday). In fact, there has been fresh snowfall on Ben Wyvis and some of other peaks over the last couple of days. One of the highlights of the drive to Ullapool is the view of the mighty An Teallach (pictured), a strong contender for the title of ‘Britain’s Greatest Mountain’. When the snow began to melt An Teallach looked merely ‘menacing’, but the extra sprinkling of snow has elevated its status to ‘petrifying’. Although I am sure I would not enjoy falling thousands of feet from the narrow ridge that links the peaks, there is something magnetic about the mountain that, like a Siren, calls me to climb it.

It is to my shame that I do not take full advantage of the peerless scenery we have up here. When I lived in England, I would sometimes drive hundreds of miles to bag a Munro, but since moving up here I have taken them for granted, perhaps thinking I can climb them at any time. In fact, the last time I climbed a mountain was my wife’s first time.

Jane had never climbed a Munro before and was not interested in doing so, so I had to use deceit and cunning to get her up there. We had just rescued Jilly, our Retriever, and because she was in such poor physical condition, we thought we should get her out on a good hill walk. I parked in a car-park north of Garve and off we went. Jane (and Jilly) both seemed to be enjoying the walk, so I pressed on, and on, and on, until we were at them summit of Ben Wyvis. Jane’s mild fuming that I had tricked her into climbing a mountain was placated by the views (and a couple of beers I had carried up in my rucksack). She had the last laugh as she sensibly walked the dogs down at a sensible pace, while I thought it would be much more fun to run down the mountain….. My legs ached for years after.

Postscript: Just as I finished typing this, another of my pupils, who had her test cancelled due to snow last December, but has been in France for the last five months, has just called to say that she has booked her test in Ullapool..... on the same day as the other eight pupils! Getting slightly concerned about this.