He hobbled along the edge of the winding country road, his single stick waving viciously at the passing cars. A hunched dull grey figure wrapped against the nippy March breeze he dodged the oncoming traffic with the ease of an old court jester capering for his master. Tramp or traveller? Difficult to say from where I sat in the drivers seat, but as I approached I was aware of what appeared to be a square of paper hung around his scrawny neck. Had a piece of his well tucked in newspaper escaped from his ruined ancient jacket leaving him short of a much needed layer of insulation? It could be a cold night for him tonight if that was the case. Maybe it was a sign – “50p for a cuppa, mate?”. or possibly “Bugger off and leave me alone!”. Who knows? I had no intentions of stopping to find out.

After successfully completing a couple of walks on the Grahams, I decided that myself and The Fatdog should extend our range a wee bit and tackle an easy Munro.   Glas Tulaichean was a fairly easy option.  Lying just to the east of Glenshee this wee bump, with its track to the top, was going to provide zero by way of awkwardness for either of us.  At over 15km and 700m of ascent of a round trip it would be our longest walk in recent months.    We hadn’t been at this height (1051m) since last August!

Other than a somewhat embarrassing diversion via an unplanned hill, the excursion of the previous week with Mr.P had been an outstanding success.  I did omit from the “tail” another embarrassing moment, this time for Mr.P, which resulted in him forgetting to change into his trainers before roaring off down the road back to his hotel in his wee BMW.  The additional carrier bag in the back of “The Tank” did puzzle me for a minute until I realised what had happened.  With the walk having different start and finish points it was a 2 car job with Mr.P’s 2-seater being left at the finish a couple of miles back from our start point.  While this was a very handy arrangement it did mean that I had to share the front passenger side with The Fatdog, which does bring back memories of the old game “How many people can you fit in a Mini”.

For some weeks now a gleeful MrP has been reminding me of a trifling navigational error I committed en-route from the Corbett, Monamenach, to the Graham, Meall na Letter, just to the east of Glenshee.  At the start of March, having persuaded me to break my exacting training regime to do some gentle walking, Mr.P then proceeded to drag me up hills covered in manky cloud – a pointless exercise if ever there was one.  In the interests of getting a bit of peace and quiet I have decided to “come clean” over this minor mistake and relate the sorry “tail” exactly as it happened…(ahem).