T mixed joys of a wee dram of whiskey 19 10 24 (11) 25 2 4

I have pretty much always drank whiskey from that first time with a couple of members of the Bury Clarion Cycling Club I went away with to spend my first Christmas in a Youth Hostel: in Slaidburn in West Yorkshire, and was introduced to the drink "whiskey and orange" towards the end of the evening, after drinking a good many pints of beer and when I can't say I suffered any longer lasting defects...It certainly didn't discourage me from drinking whiskey a second time 10 years later, though perhaps on that occasion it got me into a certain amount of bother with the Scots...

                                          
                                                                     

Perhaps in between times I had partaken of the odd wee dram but the occasion which now springs to mind was when after spending Easter Saturday climbing Ben Nevis for the very first time in Fort William, together with my brother J, his colleague Jo and our friend B, we went on the town to celebrate all pumped with adrenaline still coursing round our blood streams. And a similar programme of first drinking pints followed by shots of whiskey, but no orange on this occasion to mitigate or dilute its effects. Not only that, but the more sensible B started passing on his shots to me, who like the fool I was, downed a few of his as well: the evening ending by yours truly getting into a heated discussion with similarly oiled Scotsmen about the merits and demerits of our National football teams about which I knew absolutely nothing, hahaha!!!

                                    

But with the passage of time I got to respect the effects of whiskey as I learned to control my appetite for it and eventually I formed the habit of carrying a hip flask of the beverage which I would only take out of my pocket once the end of the hill-walk was in sight: to share with those people, usually my sons and or nieces and nephews with whom I was walking. This then somehow became a tradition which is still carried on to this last visit when each of the three participants brought supplies of whiskey along so to celebrate: my small bottle the one I had bought a few days earlier after sampling the Blair Athol during a tasting visit to its Distillery, following on from another successful hill walk. On this last occasion I learned how the depth of colour and therefore flavour of the Scotch whiskey usually derives from the length of time it resides in Sherry oak barrels, from the people on duty in the bar tasting area.

Then there was the holiday with my wife in July 1993 when we climbed a good part of the South Shiel Ridge in Kintail to claim our 3 outstanding unclimbed peaks when on the 1^st as we ascended the last few metres onto the ridge itself I slipped on the wet grass, falling backwards onto a rock beneath my right scapula which fractured, almost losing consciousness the tell-tale unmistakable sign as it happened, to mark the last day of walking for maybe a week. A day later in order to celebrate A-E's birthday I took her to stay at Scotland’s oldest Inn on Rannoch Moor "The King’s House" when I ordered two bedrooms: one for her and one for me, so small were the double bedrooms with my scapula demanding special care… But in the restaurant that evening of 2^nd July after a sumptuous dinner which my wife followed with a glass of Southern Comfort I felt free to order a glass of my then favourite whiskey Spring Bank, admired by 2 Scotsmen dressed in kilts standing at the restaurant’s bar, as I did so. 

Learning only later at the same location when I returned to have our glasses replenished how they had admired my choice of Scotch, especially since they guessed I was a Sassenach (Englishman!), but how dismayed they were when I diluted it half and half with water. Thereafter I learned to add only a small amount of water to open up the full flavour of a good malt whiskey, without diluting it excessively.  

Later still when nephew-in-law D got involved through his company in Scotch Whiskey marketing, in the British assault on the Chinese market, we got to sample a lot more different whiskeys as we descended our hills at the end of the day's walking together. In between times too through other memorable occasions I got to sample a good many more whiskeys, helped in no small measure in having a supplier based in Scotland who for 20 years used during his perhaps annual or biannual visits, to present me with a personal gift of a bottle of Scotch, together with the other members of our small inter-company development team. 

Pics accompanying this blog: (1) yours truly sampling one of the 3 whiskeys; (2) D and G with our first peak, Beinn Mheadhoin to their left in this pic;        (3) D's pic of we two fanned out just below him as he ascends to Loch Etchachan; (4) D and G as they achieve the summit of our second hill Beinn a' Chaorainn; (5) D's second pic of yours truly with G in Bob Scott's bothy after walk 19 9 19.