The Hajj

It hardly seems like a year has passed since that fateful drunken night when a young fresh-faced police officer caught 6 grown men jumping up and down on a trampoline in someone's front garden, but twelve months have indeed passed since the Restless Natives made their now annual pilgrimage to worship the Gods of Downhill at the UCI Mountain Bike World Cup round at Fort William in north western Scotland.

Sunday dawned bright and sunny, conditions that were to remain for the whole days gravity-assisted sport. Like the soft southern fools that we are, we ellected to ride the ski lifts to the top of the infamous Nevis Range downhill course to watch the riders in the womens final leave the starting line. We then took the, quite frankly foolish, decision to walk the course to the finish line some 2.82 kilometers and 100 vertical metres below us. This is a lot easier than it sounds and my upper thighs are still burning 24 hours later!

Nearly 20,000 partially sober spectators had the privilege of watching Sabrina Jonnier and Greg Minnaar destroy their opposition with tremendous displays of bravery, talent and I-get-paid-for-being-off-work-with-a-broken-arm-ness.

One of the best things about the trip is the journey there and back. In my opinion the landscape around the Glencoe, Lochaber and Rannoch Moor area is without a doubt some of the most beautiful on earth and will blow your fucking mind. Take a look if you don't believe me.
So what are you waiting for?

Grab a handful of disposable income, a significant other and come and visit my beautiful wee country, spending as you go.
Just don't stay longer that 2 weeks, I'll have gone off you by then.

PS - Strathclyde traffic police officers, gentlemen one and all.