It’s hard to know why the story of our wee trip in April 2008 to the Corbett, Beinn Each, was never written.  I found it one of the most enjoyable half day walks we ever tackled, courtesy of a mere 2m of bog…one of the lowest bog counts encountered on our travels.  Maybe its omission was due to our busy hillwalking schedule or perhaps because the walk was so short it was damn near impossible to create a decent back story – something de rigeur for the Fatdog “Tails” of that period.  In those days the “Tails” appeared on the forum scottishhills.com.  It would be another 8 months before the first incarnation of Where The Fatdog Walks would hit the blogoshere.

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).

Today’s little leg stretch kicked off from where Quintus Lollius Urbicus, on behalf of his emperor Titus Aelius Hadrianus Antoninus Augustus Pius, began his futile attempts to keep the Scots out of Europe.  Little did he know that they were quite capable of doing that on their own without the help of the Romans, UEFA, or any other of sport’s governing bodies.  But let’s not dwell on the current state of Scottish football but rather let us wonder at the state of the closest car parking facility to the eastern terminus of that man-made wonder of the 2nd Century A.D – the Antonine Wall.  It’s a muck hole!