Repeat after me, “I AM A BIG CHICKEN…I AM A BIG CHICKEN”.
I reckon it’s a damned sight more enjoyable sitting here chanting the “BIG CHICKEN” mantra than planning a walk in the hills. In fact actually walking in the hills just doesn’t bear thinking about. With avalanche warnings this week for the Ochils, and us into our 4th week of perpetual freezing snowscape, I am of the firm belief that the end of the world is fast approaching and I don’t fancy it arriving with me and The Fatdog caught out up a mountain in waist deep snow. The thought of being blasted into eternity 30m from a summit is a thought to horrendous to contemplate…aaarghhh….only 30m to go and I would have had another tick on the list! Mind you all the (sheep) ticks would also be blasted into eternity which would be no bad thing.
Nothing new to report on the snow…it’s still there, cold, white and splattered all over the countryside, just a bit more solid than it was before. It has an annoyingly thin crust with pure powder below, horrible for walking through. The Fatdog loathes the nasty crusted stuff so picking a walking destination for tomorrow is proving a wee bit tricky. There’s also the state of the roads to take into account. With the local authorities being a wee bit selective when it comes to which roads(or part of roads) to clear, moving off the main routes is a bit of a lottery.
To simplify matters I will assume that the end of the world will indeed not happen tomorrow and that the odd road may be less slippery than a politician’s expenses claim. On that basis I will choose something…somewhere… when (and if) my enthusiasm returns. But until then…
“I AM A BIG CHICKEN…I AM A BIG CHICKEN”