Hold On Tight, 'Yer Gonna Get Wet - On the Harvey Trip

Every Trip Needs a Special Event!

A regular reader of this blog will probably be aware that on most travel days we like to keep pretty busy.  On this Harvey trip we kept up the pattern, for a couple reasons: we like to make the most of our time in any given place packing in the most things we can, and also to wear out our traveling companions, three young boys filled with a lot of energy and a fair amount of mischief.

Any typical day would be filled with time spent riding bikes, walking and hiking, playing at the beach, throwing rocks, collecting sticks and stones, and exploring.  That would be on top of running and fighting and building campfires and making camp and breaking camp and driving from placed to place in the Harvey (remember Harvey = RV).

However, we wanted to have a couple of extra special activities that would stand out from the rest.  We decided to take a trip on the Mail Jet Boats up the Rogue River from Gold Beach.  These are the big powerful boats purpose built for motoring up the River through white water and sometimes shallow water – as low as 10 inches!

It turned out to be Mega Awesome!  “Mega” was the word of the Harvey trip - meaning super, amazing, really big, totally cool, or any other outstanding descriptive adjective you wish to apply.  To be honest, I was actually surprised how few people know about this Jet Boat adventure.  I thought it was common knowledge.  It’s pretty popular.  You can make this trip that follows the pattern established by the Mail Boats that used to run up the river to deliver mail in the old days.  It’s a blast.

The boys could hardly contain their excitement as we waiting to load the boats.  They had to wear jackets that were vastly oversized to the point of looking comical.  You need the large jackets (Fiona and I wore them too) because it was pretty windy and a bit chilly, and you can expect to get wet on the way up and back. 

The boats travel upriver 32 miles, and then after an early evening dinner, right back down to the coast where the river meets the sea.  A total of 64 miles, the whole thing takes just over five hours.  There were about 45 people in our boat, one of many that run up and down the Rogue.  With our dry summer, the river levels were low, which makes things a little touchy to navigate.

We got seats up in the front – the boys were in the front row and we were right behind them.  This was important because we had to regularly hold onto them or they would be thrown from the boat! There are some pretty sharp turns and the boat is really moving to negotiate the white water and rocks.  Of course, the captain is quite adept at this having done it for sixteen years, and he frequently did amazing 360 degree spins in this huge boat that flung us around and got us soaking wet.

The weather was warmer once we left the coast and it eventually got pretty hot.  The way to deal with this was to keep wet most of the time.  The kids loved it, in fact everybody did.  One time I had a grip on the collar of Yoppies life jacket and he was bouncing around pretty bad and he yelled “Papa!  I can’t breathe, you’re choking me!”  The kids did pretty good although Jackson hit the deck a couple times in advance of a large wave that was going to wash over us.  

The worst accident was this big guy next to the boys in the front row flew out of his seat and smashed into the windshield and biffed it pretty hard.  A bunch of ladies screamed when it looked like he was gonna eject from of the boat.  It was hilarious.

After traveling up river we stopped in Agness Oregon, and climbed up a path from the river to an old boarding house where they had a fantastic fried chicken dinner waiting for us.  It was served family style with heaps of mash potatoes and gravy and all kinds of good eats.  Except that Sam was pouting and didn’t each much of anything.  I made sure we got our money’s worth by eating his share, although he did perk up and finish the ice cream.

Then back to the boats and back down the river.  We saw a bunch of wildlife and the captain (slash guide) shared a lot of the history of the area.  We saw numerous Bald Eagles, and Osprey who build nests in towering Douglas Fir and Port Orford Cedar trees.  We followed a family of otters, and saw seals way up river (looking for fish to eat) and evidence of bears.  There were cormorants, jumping salmon, and stories about cougars and the early pioneers.  All kinds of things.  It was a great time.

The boys loved it, and we loved it too.  I would recommend this to anyone who gets down that direction on the southern Oregon coast.  It was just a bit wild and crazy (enough to make it fun) and really helped to get a feel for the place and see some fantastic scenery.

Skipping Stones and Hurling Abuse on the Harvey Trip

What do You Do With Three Small Boys?  

A Whole Lot as it Turns Out.

     

     In the continuing adventure of the Harvey trip, we were in constant motion.  Not only moving from place to place, but each day was filled with constant physical activities and fun.  You have to burn off some energy or these guys will never sleep.  

One day we went down to the ocean to explore and found a pond on the way.  It was surrounded by rocks.  Anyone with small boys will know that rocks are meant to throw in water – any rocks, any water, any time.

     This was no exception, and the boys instantly set about throwing rocks in the pond. One thing led to another and soon they were trying to skip rocks. This can be a challenge for those without practice. You need the right kind of rock (smooth, flat, and round) and the right kind of water (calm and wave free). 

     You also need a fair amount of technique, you can’t just fling the rock, and you have to spin it with a flat trajectory. You have to give the rock a chance to “bounce” or skip across the surface of the water.

These young lads did not have the proper method and managed to commence making every kind of throw without much success.  For example, a rock entering the water perpendicular at a ninety degree angle has zero chance of skipping.  It generally makes a big splash. 

Soon however, they were claiming success, even though they had not achieved any.  A typical conversation:

Jackson: "Look Papa! I skipped a rock!"

Me: "What?  No you didn’t!  That thing made a big splash and sunk!"

Jackson:  "Yeah … I know."   

     Hey, I’m not trying to be the bad guy. I'm willing to bend the rules and give a little leeway but it wasn't even close. But eventually he did manage to get a skip or two fairly consistently over the course of the trip. 

Bomb The Battleship!  Bombs Away!

Actually what happened next was that skipping rocks morphed into “Bomb the Battleship”.  This is  where you throw a log or floating piece of wood into the water and then bomb the thing with every imaginable kind of rock you can find, even if the rock weighs more than you do.   I’ll grab some credit here, this was a game I invented a while back … well, at least I invented the name …. and the trash talking.

Anyway, part of the fun is not only hurling rocks at the “battleship” but also hurling abuse.  Such things as “come back here you coward!” if the logs starts to float away.  

Also, you can taunt the piece of wood or log with things like “you’re a pathetic loser!” and hammer the thing with tons of rocks.  The boys became quite prolific at trash talking the “battleship” log.  They were getting rather offensive (by little boy standards) with taunts like “you idiotic piece of garbage!” or “you’re a stupid failure!”  or “you’re a pitiful excuse for a battleship!” or “you deserve to die!”  Dude!  That’s a bit rough!

I must confess I led the charge with a stream of abuse that the log certainly didn’t deserve, but man, it’s so fun.  (One of my better ones “you’re a disgrace to mankind!” – but hey, it’s just a chunk of wood!) The boys were using words that I’m sure their parents would not approve of, but their parents weren’t around! HA, HA, HA!   Sam got in a good one – “you’re a dumb pile of bathroom toilet!”

Anyway, throwing rocks in the water, either skipping or bombing, can provide almost endless fun.  In fact, it can literally be endless, to the point where you can’t get them to stop.  They started crying and calling me inappropriate names … Ooops!  Who started all this anyway?  Me?

Kids say the darnedest things! 

Come to think of it, the things they say are like instant classics.  For instance, there was a loft bed up above the driver seat in the Harvey (remember Harvey = RV) and the boys would take turns sleeping up there.  The other guys would climb up usually in the morning after they woke up.  They shared pretty good most of the time.  Everybody could join in.

However, one day Yoppie wouldn’t let Jackson up to the “loft”. 

I said something like, “hey, you guys have been sharing all week and letting each other up there, and now you’re gonna get selective?”  And Yoppie busts out, “well, somebody’s gotta be selective!”  Bwa Ha Ha Ha!

Another quote:  We are trying to drive the Harvey into a particularly difficult campsite and Jackson observes:  “Man, this is gonna be pretty stressful!”  (As if the whole trip hasn’t been?)

Or try this one.  Sam knocks over a whole big glass of chocolate milk on himself while sitting in a restaurant (he’s kind of accident prone) and it’s a real mess.  It gets all over his pants, shirt, and shoes.  We eventually get it cleaned up and manage to finish the meal.  When we get back in the Harvey to leave, Sam shares this thought with us:  “You know, when I spilled that chocolate milk on myself … it was kind of refreshing …!”  

Here’s another one by Sam – as we enter California on our way to the Redwoods, Sam says “Hurray!  We’re in California!  Now we get to see Nana and Grandad! Whoo Hoo!”

And Jackson turns to him: “Sam, they live in Georgia …”

Sam:  “oh …  yeah …”

It was a lot of fun with these little guys.  Jackson is the senior member at age nine, Yoppie just turned six and Sam is five.  

More to come soon.   

Bursting into Flames on the Harvey Trip

Harvey Trip = RV Trip ... Get it?

So we had hatched an idea to take our young grandsons on a road trip, like - let’s rent an Recreational Vehicle (RV) and spend a week on the road driving around Oregon and camping and such.  This required some planning and the procurement of a decent RV to get us around in some degree of comfort, sleeping five and allowing for some distance between stops primarily on the Oregon coast.

The first thing we discovered when we presented this idea to the young lads, was that they immediately dubbed the trip "Harvey" as in “we’re gonna go on a Harvey Trip!”  The which means they equated an RV with a character in a Disney movie who was actually a Recreational vehicle named "Harvey".   Get it? Harvey = RV?

Anyway we set off Monday afternoon, late as it were, because there were numerous loading issues and lost keys and bathroom emergencies and photos and on and on.  But we made it to our first stop later Monday evening (Beverly Beach) without too many mishaps, and settled in for the night … sort of.  

These guys were pumped up out of their minds and could not get to sleep and, whatd’ya know?  We‘re all sleeping in the same space only we're not sleeping.  Immediate panic begins to set in – we’re not going to sleep all week?  We’re gonna die!

Is it time for breakfast yet?

The next morning we began to explore early because they were the first ones up – in the entire campground.  6:00 AM and they are fighting and shouting and crying and screaming for breakfast.    

We go for a bike ride and disrupt the entire campground, which is rather large I must say. This place is huge and really quite well done. Modern campgrounds are better than they used to be”.

Once we have exhausted the first hour and a half of the first morning, we settle in for a second breakfast, with real food like bacon and eggs.  Fiona does a masterful job of whipping up a terrific meal, and of course they eat nothing.  They want to make s’mores. I’m thinking Hey man, it’s breakfast time!  Isn’t that supposed to be a night time campfire thing?

Only they won’t be deterred and – warning, danger ahead – Fiona has this idea to make s'mores in a cone like an ice cream and cook them in the fire with tin foil.  I think it was a Pinterest thing, or some other such bizarre nonsense.  

So we create these “cones of death” containing small marshmallows and  chocolate chips stuffed into a waffle cone and wrapped up in a bunch of tin foil and they are supposed to be inserted into the fire. 

I question this:  you mean like stick these into the flames to cook them?  And the answer comes back yes, of course, and we will let them melt like real s'mores and they will be yummy!  I’m beginning to think this is risky. It’s way too early in the morning for risk. 

So we set up three of them for the three boys and realize that the fire is pretty smoky and maybe we’ll have smoked s'mores?  Hey why not, what they heck?  We keep talking with the boys (they want to tell booger jokes) and sucking down coffee and trying to become coherent, and it seems like a short time and we pull out one of the s'mores and it is completely incinerated to a black mass of ashes.  Very unappealing !  Ha! 

So I immediately reach in to grab the others and I burn my fingers big time and I yell and throw the thing back in the fire and they boys starting laughing, and in the meantime I no longer have fingerprints on three fingers, and never will again.  It is not funny to me.  

One of the other s'more cones bursts into flames.  This is an epic fail.  All three of the s'mores are a charred mess, beyond hope and quite disgusting and the boys emit cries of despair and things like “sick!” “gross” “get that away from me!” and we have a pile of blackened s'mores and tin foil and this whole thing is an environmental disaster.    

However, life is not without challenges and you have to press on even against insurmountable odds.  We actually make the attempt to try this whole thing again and wrap these puppies up and stick in the fire one more time with a more diligent attitude. And guess what?  They sorta worked!  The idea is not a complete train wreck.  They were edible… I guess.

By this time, we are all kind of done-ski with this idea and hop on the bikes and head to the ocean and the beach.  

Not a bad first day.  Well, fairly bad but nobody got hurt except for me (the boys’ injuries came later) and nobody got sick (well, that came later too).   All in all … hey, we might want to get some more coffee.

But before noon, one of the little ones has a tremendous meltdown in the parking lot of Wal-mart (Hey, they have parking for Harveys!).  He begins to exhibit initial stages of bipolar disease and it hasn't even been 24 hours and we’re starting to lose it.

Y’know, this trip seemed like a good idea at the time. 

Floating Heads, Traffic Cones, & Grumpy Statues

We're Home Now ... at least for a while

     Just arrived home yesterday afternoon on the flight from Amsterdam to Portland.  This is a direct flight and it's a quick and easy way to get back and forth to Europe.  There aren't that many direct international flights from Portland, so it's a bonus to get on the plane here and end up at your destination, or vice versa.
     We were surprised to arrive home and find Oregon hot and dry. Well, we weren't' really surprised since we followed the weather on line, but this has to be one of the hottest stretches without rain in a long time.  For May and June especially.  And it's not just here, when we were in the UK they had their hottest July day in history - and their history goes waaaay back.  
     Unfortunately, that was not the day that we played combat underwater survival golf in Scotland (see this link You call this golf?)

-----------------------------------------------------------------

     I wanted to share some interesting, if odd, pictures from the recent trip to Holland and Scotland. 

     Sometimes you just come across noteworthy or unusual scenes and I try to snap a picture when possible.  
     The captions are below each picture.
     You can be the judge if they are weird or amusing, or both.



     This is art, I guess.  It was outside our hotel at the Amsterdam airport.  It was about eight feet tall, you can see me in the reflection taking the picture.  Stating the obvious, it was big and shiny and ... frankly, a little creepy.   

     This one is not art per se, but marketing.  This was taken from a store window in Glasgow.  There were hundreds of sewing machines, from a bygone era, wrapping all the way around the corner building.  Must have taken somebody a long time to do this.  
     It was striking and pretty interesting and (appropriately), it was a fancy clothing store. 

     Gas mask anyone?  I found it unusual that there would be a fairly major statue of a soldier in a gas mask outside the Glasgow Central Station train terminal.  There was no plaque or explanation. It was solid cast iron and had been there a long time.  It was apparently a tribute to all the men who lost their lives in World War I to the use of poisonous gas. 

This is one of my favorite scenes

     Do you suppose this is not a sign of great admiration for the soldier on the horse, or is someone just having fun?  This was also in Glasgow, and was pretty funny.  Story has it that if the cone is removed, it is replaced by merry makers really quick, so they just leave it there.  And it's also like twenty-five feet in the air.  

     Is it just me or does the guy seem to be a little indignant at having a traffic cone on his head?

     I tried to come up with a humorous caption and here are some attempts:

     "Hey, was that a wild bachelor party last night or what?!"

     "Does this hat make me look fat?"   

     "It's my birthday and I'll wear whatever I want!"

     "Do you think my men will respect me more if I wear this hat?  It would certainly make me more visible on the battle field!"

     I would call this the grumpy statue picture.  It looks like the guy and his colleague are stuck there holding up this building until the end of time.  Pretty boring job if you ask me, and he looks pretty unhappy about it.  In fact, it look like he's pouting ...

     Talk about too little too late.  It might be hard to tell from the picture, but the glass is badly shattered.  They should have put this sign up BEFORE someone broke the window.  Oh well, at least someone did a masterful job of taping the glass together.  Would this pass health and safety regulations?  

     

You Take the High Road and I'll Take the Low Road - A Journey Thru the Highlands and Islands of Scotland

We left the Isle of Lewis after the Big Wedding 

A Pictorial Essay ...

     After the Wedding was over, everyone began to make their way home, using different methods.  The Island (off the coast of Scotland) and the town of Stornoway are not easy to get to.  It takes planning, time, and some luck with the weather.  

Departing from Stornoway on the Ferry - what a day!

     On the way there we flew, so it was relatively easy, except for the minor league airlines that we used.  They were kind of amateur and not very organized, with a bunch of dumb rules.  But we made it there.

     However, on the way back we decided to go overland, and over sea.  We took the large ocean going ferry from Stornoway to the mainland.  It was journey that took a little over three hours.  

     We got lucky, the weather was good, and the crossing was smooth.  It isn't always.  It can be treacherous and rough and even gets cancelled on occasion from serious Atlantic storms.   But the water was like glass when we crossed on Monday, and the sun came out several times.  And it's also a new ship.  It was great, the best crossing I can remember.

Lewis and Ruby gazing out the window on the ferry crossing - smooth and nice, we even saw some whales!

     

     We reached the mainland of Scotland and docked at a place called Ullapool, a small but scenic town on the coast.  

     From there we caught the bus to Inverness, the capital of the Highlands of Scotland.  We stayed the night there and had a chance to look around and visit the castle and the River Ness (shown below), which flows through the small city.  

 

     Then we made a slight change of plans and rented a car (we were going to take the train) in order to drive down to Glasgow.  It's the largest city in Scotland and the place where we would catch our flights to infinity and beyond ....

Urquhart Castle on the shore of Loch Ness

     So we drove down by the side of Loch Ness, shown above.  We didn't see the Loch Ness Monster, although we did a fair amount of looking.  The scenery was beautiful.   

     We eventually came to one of the most spectacular parts of Scotland and all of Britain - the mountains of Glencoe.  The weather by then was not too good, but we were able to enjoy the rugged and historic views. 

 

     After passing along the Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond, we came to Glasgow and by then it was raining hard, but we were enjoying the amazing journey.  

*** Special note:  A lot of Americans get the name of this major city wrong when they say it.  It is pronounced Glazz-Go - often people say Glazz-Gow, ending with the sound like "how" or "cow". ***

     We took some time to drive around and have a look at things.  It's a city that has undergone a lot of changes and is vibrant and full of life these days.  

     There are bunch of statues all around Glasgow, and this unfortunate chap below has suffered the indignity of having a statue erected to him, that is forever pooped on by pigeons! (or is that a seagull?)  What a bummer!

 

     So we finished off at the airport in Glasgow, and by this time Alison had joined us, flying in from Stornoway.  We had a brief reunion and said goodbye.  We have all departed by different methods now. 

     We have spent the last eighteen days with Lewis and Ruby, who are now on their way to Africa, via Paris.  Yesterday was their anniversary, number nine.  I captured this selfie below with them in Inverness.

 

     And of course, there was one last sunset, for which I borrowed this picture from Alison.

 

     Tonight we are at the airport in Amsterdam, and fly home tomorrow.  It was a lot of activity in a short time .... !  

Blimey! She's getting Married!

A Big Part of this Current Trip was to Attend the Wedding of the Century

     We've been on the road for a couple weeks, traveling to Holland and Scotland, and a big focus of our journey was to attend the wedding between Anne-Marie and Sean in Stornoway, on the Isle of Lewis.

     Along with being a union of two, the wedding is also a bit of a family reunion with relatives coming in from all corners of the globe, or at least it seems like it.

     We made the trip from the West Coast of America, and there were others there from Norway, England, Ireland, and of course, all over Scotland.  It was a real international bunch.  With all the accents, you had to work hard pretty hard on occasion to understand what people were saying. 

A Scottish wedding is a special thing!

     There were lots of big hats, and kilts!   Everybody looked great!

     The actual wedding was in a church and was rather formal (except for me, more on that later) and it was lovely ... and tastefully brief.  Of course there was a bagpiper there to start things off!

     There were a couple of laughs during the ceremony, which always helps to break up the tension.  I was surprised to see the minister pull out a fancy camera and take pictures as the lovely newly married couple were still facing him on the platform.

     And I was also surprised to see a bunch of the locals outside who had come to watch and observe the proceedings - not something we're used to in the States, but the townsfolk showed up and stood close to check out who was there and what they were wearing!  

     And the day was spectacular and sunny, which was unexpected with the rainy cold summer so far here.  It could not have been a better day for a wedding!

Then on to the Dinner and Reception

     After the official ceremony, we all made our way to a nearby hotel for a fancy dinner with dancing and lots of food and drink and pictures and a little mayhem.

     There were the formalities of the wedding, and a very nice dinner, with things like Yorkshire pudding, Scottish Salmon, Lamb, and fresh strawberries. 

     And there was a lot of dancing, in which everyone participated, both young and old.  The band contained among other things, a rockin' bagpipe player and an accordion. There were some dances that all the Scots seem to know (but I found a bit baffling) and were really fun!

     There were a lot of pictures taken, and one of my favorites is the "cousin picture" below with six of the cousins of the bride.  This is a rare photo, as these guys are pretty spread out and may get together like this maybe once every ten years. 

     There were also several large meal gatherings, a fancy tea for the ladies, a couple visits to pubs, and lots of visiting.  It was a full week of wedding activities. 

     In regards to my attire, I was mortified to find myself at this proud function in a severe condition of being under dressed.  
     Hey, nothing can compete with a big hat or a fancy kilt.  

     But I did a poor job of clothing selection before we left home, resulting in a lack of choice.  

     I had a nice black sweater that I thought would be suitable with a tie and black pants.  My wife took one look at me once I was dressed and said "you're not wearing that to the wedding."

     And I said, "what's wrong with this?"

     And she said "take that off right now!"

     And I said, "I don't have any other options!"

     She said, "too bad, you can't wear that."

     So I went, looking like a county bumpkin. I felt bad ... but not bad enough to keep from having a really good and memorable time. 

Ancient History & Mystery & Standing Stones

A day of discovery in the Outer Hebrides

     We are currently staying on the group of islands off the Scottish coast known as the Hebrides (pronounced Heb-rid-ease) and there is a tremendous amount of history, going way back.  Like the day Fiona was born here ... hey, just kidding!

      Actually more like 5,000 years back - to the days of druids and other ancient peoples - who built many landmarks that still stand to this day.   The stone arrangements above known as the Callanish Stones are a bit like Stonehenge. 

     And they are filled with mystery and with a lot of ancient mythology, such as - how did they build these things?  How did they transport the rocks here from somewhere far away?  And what is the design supposed to represent?

The Standing Stones of Callanish

     These pictures show the magnificent stones on the West coast of the island on a bluff above the sea.  They are sort of a timeless reminder that we have some ancient ancestors who were pretty clever.  
     This setting has been described as spectacular and even magical.

A retro black & white photo yesterday of Alison, Lewis, and Ruby

     
     It's kind of an amazing feeling to view these up close and absorb the atmosphere and hear the distant thunder ... hey, that really happened!   There was a huge thunderstorm with lightning and heavy rain and the whole bit yesterday when we were touring. 

The Tower at Carloway

     This was another amazing structure of immense size, built a long time ago by people who knew how to make things last.  You need to use your imagination, because at this point just the base is left, but just think the size it must have been.  Look hard and you can see some children sitting on the far side of the structure. 

    And there were internal stairways built of stone, with cool views.

 

The Black House Village

     People used to live in these houses and it wasn't so long ago - in fact there a few folks who still do.  This particular spot has been preserved and restored to show how life was a couple hundred years ago.  Things were tough. 

     It was basically a stone wall with a thatched roof.  It was a hardy building that could withstand the rugged weather and climate conditions.  It's windy on the island much of the time.  And the winter nights are cold and long.  
     We have the good fortune of being here at the height of summer, and the days are long ... see below.

Sunset over Stornoway (almost)

     I wanted to get a sunset picture here, and you have to wait up pretty late for that.  Last week was the longest day of the year, and that means that it never really gets dark here on the Island of Lewis.
     It's not quite the land of the midnight sun, but this is the far North Atlantic, and the sun sets at almost 11:00 pm, then sunrise is around 4:00 am, meaning it just gets kind of twilight at the darkest.
    So below is my best attempt at capturing the end of the day.  Got lucky when the clouds parted (did I mention the weather is iffy?) and the sun appeared for a brief time. 

Scotland the Brave - A Story - You call this golf?

We arrived in Scotland to find blustery, rainy weather, just like we expected

     Moving along from fun time in Holland, it was a quick flight from Amsterdam to Stornoway, Scotland on the Isle of Lewis.  This is where Fiona was born and raised.  Our son is named after this island.  
     We are here for a family visit for a week or so, but the main event is the Wedding of the Century on Friday between cousin Anne-Marie and Sean, who hails from nearby Ireland.

When the ball lands, it tends to sink at this golf course, and this was on the green.  Imagine trying to putt this?

     

Epic Golf Outing!  

     
     We went and played golf yesterday, with the realization that it was going to be wet and challenging.  The ladies were at a wedding function, something like an afternoon tea, which gave us a perfect opportunity to get away for a round of golf - or so we thought. 

The Ladies dressed up and heading out for afternoon tea and wedding pleasantries - do you have your raised pinky ready?  Lewis with a photo bomb in the background.  

     
     It had rained hard in the morning, and from what we were told, it's been raining and unpleasant here for some time, so we anticipated difficult conditions on the course.
     But in reality, to say we were unprepared would be a misuse of the English language.  The only thing we had was a positive attitude, which quickly faded under the battle-like elements we faced. 
     We were completely without any of the normal accouterments of golf - we had no clubs, no balls, no tees, no cart, no gloves, no nothing - and worst of all we had no shoes. 
     If you're going to play golf in bad conditions, you at least need some good shoes.  Instead, I played in my running shoes and Lewis played in my Teva rafter sandals, which were pretty close to playing in flip flops.
     However, the intrepid staff (it was actually one lovely chap) was very accommodating and he did his level best to equip us with rental clubs and such.  This turned out to be a challenge because he couldn't find the key to the storage locker and then all the clubs were left handed, and we managed to tackle the course with one shared grab bag of miscellaneous clubs of dubious quality.
     Lewis started out with socks on, but that lasted about ten feet, when he walked through standing water off the first tee.  So he had to play the rest of the day with bare feet in sandals.  He had to roll up his pants so they wouldn't get wet, and you can imagine how that looked. 

     
     It was hillbilly golf from the start.  We didn't know the course, so we had to hack and whack our way through the heather and peat.  
     It was super wet and soggy, and we were slipping and sliding many times, occasionally during the back swing, which gave us a good excuse for our rather poor performance.  
     But we were having a good time and earned some local street cred for taking on this challenge under nearly impossible odds.  In fact, there were very few fellow golfers out there.  Apparently the regulars had enough sense to head to the pub. 
     At any rate, we managed to make our way around the front nine only losing three balls, which is a miracle of the highest magnitude and I would be willing to loan this miracle to the current pope if he needs one for sainthood.
      There were a bunch of trees and sand and a whole lot of water.  Unfortunately the water was not in a lake or typical water hazard, but right on the surface.   And the terrain was Scottish in every way, sponge-like turf with uneven surface, moss, rocks, hills, - in fact I expected to see Braveheart pop out from behind a tree, with an arrow in his arse!
     Believe it or not, Lewis began to score and got a couple of pars and a birdie.  He is a pretty good golfer, and I'm ... not.  But I got off a good shot or two, which managed to find the fairway.  We agreed in advance, in order to preserve our sanity, that we wouldn't keep score.  Our excuse was that we didn't have a pencil ...
     We had a lot of good laughs, and were amazed at the view from the top, you could see all the way to the mainland some 40 miles away.  The course was actually pretty creative, and with some resources, could have been pretty decent.  It was definitely unique. 

     We realized that we were running out of time (it took way longer to play than "normal" golf) and we had to wrap things up and go pick up the girls from the afternoon tea.  
     So we abbreviated our play and cut short to head to the clubhouse, and were surprised to see the girls there waiting for us.  They had been given a lift by cousin Lorraine, along with her two lovely girls, Sarah and Isla.  
     They were astonished when they saw us walking up the course, and averted their eyes.  I heard the words "ridiculous" "morons" and "embarrassing" come from their direction, along with the very appropriate "hillbilly".
     And to add one more indignity, there was no way off the course from there - other than to climb the stone wall lining the nearby fairway.  So we threw the clubs over the wall and scaled it and emerged triumphant from the wildest round of golf I have ever played. 

     We turned the clubs back in and the bloke asked up how we did.  I answered "well, maybe not my best day golfing!"
     And he said:
     Welcome to Scotland!