My plan, no surprise to me, was a complete failure. All three times that I recorded videos to post on the blog there were major issues that I decided to avoid by not posting them. So, I instead will be posting a video at the bottom of this post for you to enjoy. Nothing too fancy with camera work or witty conversation. I just wanted to give you a brief idea of what I accomplished today, which I will first explain.
I woke up relatively late this morning due to a late night last night. Earlier in the week my close group of friends and I had discovered a local pub that we wanted to go to. It looked quite 'Scottish' from the outside and since we passed it each time we'd walk to town, we thought we might as well try it out. I'm not certain if this was Wednesday or Thursday night, but I guess that's irrelevant. When we went, our premonitions had been right about the pub. It was as Scottish as you can get. (Side note: in pubs, it's expected that men enter first and women behind. In case there's a bar fight happening you wouldn't want a woman to be harmed. Men shouldn't even hold the door for a woman in the pub environment) There were only about 8 or 9 others in the pub, all of whom would have their senior citizens cards in the United States. Needless to say we got a lot of looks not only from the locals but also from the bartenders (Again, senior citizen status) who had to repeat themselves several times in order to be understood through the thick, Scottish accents. The night turned out wonderfully and as we were leaving we saw a sign on the door for karaoke on Saturday at 9PM. We went. We sang. We conquered. Though that is likely due to the elderly's lack of enthusiasm with young competition. Everybody was pretty good except David Russell. Why do I remember his name? Because he sang at least 6 times. Each was more difficult to listen to than the last, and it was his rendition of Amy Winehouse's Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow that got me out of my seat and out of the pub. I had heard enough, which brings me back to my sleeping in this morning.
As a trait I have picked up from my father, I can't stand to do nothing all day. I feel helpless and unaccomplished, so I made the decision to hike the mountain behind my dorm. From the main buildings on campus and from the bridge that connects the union to the corridors, the large mountain is clearly visible. It's monstrous but very appealing. What you can't see from campus, though, is the path that needs to be taken to get to the apex. To get to the top, from my dorm, took me an 2 hours and 15 minutes. The way back down was just shy of 1 hour and 30 minutes. That should give you an idea of how steep it was in parts.
I started by hiking the path directly behind my room. Each morning I can hear a wide variety of things along the trail including hikers, runners, and horse riders. I figured they had to be going somewhere, so I felt that particular path would be a good start. After all, I had no idea how to get to the top. I didn't bother asking for help or directions, either. I wanted to do it all alone. I wanted to hike alone, get lost on my own, and experience the thrill all by myself. (And if I had traveled with friends I would have likely gone crazy with the glacial paces by which they tend to travel) Up the mountain I began, but soon realized this was hardly going to be the most challenging portion. The forest was extraordinarily green and the path was semi-steep. More importantly, it was a very thin path that teetered on the edge of what appeared to be rather loose rocks and boulders. To get to the top took about 30 minutes. Once there, the path turned left, but the mountain was to the right. I started wondering if this path would even get me to the highest point, but ignored the thought and kept to the path. Further west I traveled as the mountain grew smaller and smaller until I came upon a stone wall with an ivy-covered opening. I immediately headed towards the opening, which led to a regular, paved road. This road went further west about a half mile until I ran into a mini-parking lot. Here there were runners, mountain bike enthusiast and little children bundled up from head to toe ready to travel the path with their parents or grandparents. This portion would be most grueling but also most rewarding. (Mainly because the path started heading east and the path was clear as to its final destination) An hour or so later, I had made it to the top. Exhausted and sweating through my NorthFace, I sat and marveled for as long as I could stand. After all, mountains are much colder at the top than the bottom. Along the way I saw breathtaking sights, inspiring people (little kids running up the mountain as if it were a park), and was reminded of how lucky I am to be able to do this. For the first time since being in Scotland I thought to myself that I would likely never again be able to experience such a lengthy visit to foreign country with the carelessness of a college student and body of a 21 year old. (Which felt like a 60 year old's after I got back to my room)
An emotional part of me is attached to this video I'm going to post. It's difficult for me to watch because it reminds me of my good fortune so far in life. I have an incredible family, irreplaceable friends, and a heart filled with love, joy, and gratitude. I hope you enjoy it.
For video, CLICK HERE
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When we tire of well-worn ways, we seek for new. This restless craving in the souls of men spurs them to climb, and to seek the mountain view. - Ella Wheeler Wilcox
*If the video doesn't work for some odd reason, send me an email, and I can send it to you personally.
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