Burns Night 2008
25-26 January 2008
Once again, F. Belcher was our genial maitre d’ for the Annual
Club Burns Night at Muir, going up early on Friday afternoon
with bulging sacks of haggises, spuds and neeps, to ensure that
all would be ready for the following hordes armed with soups,
puddings and cheeses (not to mention the odd can or bottle) for
a splendid meal on Saturday night. Some even came with a
personalised potato peeler, the better to reduce the vegetables
into boilable chunks.
After a stormy night, the weather on Saturday itself did not
encourage too many people up the hill, but Willie got up Sgor
Mor, while Ken and Andy headed for An Socach via the (collapsed)
Colonel’s Bed in Glen Ey.
They found the upper glen largely flooded, necessitating a
hillside traverse rather than the usual track, before crossing
the footbridge at Altanour Lodge and heading straight up Carn
Cruinn since crossing any of the burns looked problematic.
Up on the plateau, a surprisingly long trek into the wind
eventually located the rather miserable cairn in the light
sleet, and it was a relief to turn back for the east top, with
even a glimpse of a view of snowy slopes to the south. Beyond
the east top, and a sitting glissade, Andy headed for home via
the glen, while Ken carried on with a traverse of the fine
eastern ridge above Glen Ey, ending in the dark.
Back at Muir, appetites and excitement, as well as numbers,
swelled towards 7:30pm, when an excellent soup (“almost too
thick for a spoon, but too thin for a fork”) was offered round.
Then, to the accompaniment of the Wardrope Ensemble, Fred
carried in the Great Chieftain o’ the Puddin-race, to be
welcomed with the usual Address from Kes, who whistled his blade
with true aplomb. And for a time, conversation lagged while
appetites were assuaged, no doubt to the undermining of many a
New Year resolutions on eating and drinking.
The centrepiece was followed by an array of sweets, and by the
Toast to the Lassies (given by a Lad) with a Response from A
Lassie. Under Presidential pressure, Alec was cajoled into a
canto of Tam o’Shanter, while Robbie provided a musical
afterlude. And so to bed (eventually) …
The author of these lines has no idea what (if anything)
happened on Sunday, since he had an appointment in Aberdeen at
10am, which meant a not altogether welcome pre-dawn start that
day. But he is sure that all enjoyed the week-end, with thanks
to Fred and all his kitchen helpers, and to Richard for keeping
Muir (except perhaps the men’s shower …!) in such fine shape for
Author: Ken Thomson