As I type this, I’m lying on a fluffy white comforter in the upstairs portion of our fantastic hotel room. We finally made it to Whitefish! To be honest, the thirty hours on a train went by really fast. I already miss Terrance, our sleeper car butler guy. I haven’t had many any butlers in my life, but he was for sure the best one ever.

This morning we started out with a stop in Minot, North Dakota. We had a while at the stop, so Lauren and I got out to explore the town. It had a very cool, small-town America vibe.

We went to the most Lauren-centric coffee shop I have ever seen. There were plants EVERYWHERE. It was like ordering coffee in a jungle. Lauren commented on their use of an old mattress as a planter, saying that it was a good idea and maybe she’ll do that with her old mattress. Joanna Gaines from Fixer Upper most likely would not approve, but is Joanna as committed to recycling as Lauren? I THINK NOT. Lauren ordered a cinnamon coffee, and I got a blackberry lime lemonade. It reminded me of the blackberry bushes back home.

While at the coffee shop, we ran into our train friends. This is Lauren with Becca, the B in “PB&J.” These three friends (Pam, Becca, and Janie) have been traveling together for a lot of years, and they bring their whole families. There was a group of twelve of them on the train. It gave me high hopes for future of the birthday weekend crew.

On our walk back to the train, we met Dave. He was an older guy wearing an orange pheasant hat, and he loved Minot:

“Aw, we here are just a bunch of old retired farmers. Go up to 80% of these houses around this town, and you can walk right in. No locks on these doors! Just the kind of people we are around here.”

I asked about his pheasant hat, and he responded with, “Well of COURSE I go pheasant hunting! Nothing else to do around here! I go grouse hunting too. Plenty of them around.” This made me the tiniest bit glad Rex wasn’t with us, or I worried I might find myself moving to Minot, North Dakota.

After a hearty “ALL ABOARD!” from Terrance, the train was off again.

We passed through the most beautiful sunflower fields, but I couldn’t get a good picture. Blast! Rex’s fancy pants camera surely would have been able to work some magic. Instead, I’m cheating and stole this picture of North Dakota sunflowers from Google images so you can get the idea.

Lauren and I spent a chunk of the day working on our “work.” I drafted my novel, and Lauren worked on her knitting. We both got quite a bit done.

We’d take breaks every once in a while to walk around. Here’s Lauren looking cute. This should obviously be her match.com profile picture, right??

Dinner was in the dining car again, where Lauren made a startling discovery. “Christine,” she marveled. “This plastic cup is a #5 recyclable, and clear plastic is almost always #1. But this black plate,” she held up the plate, “is a #1 recyclable, and black plastic is almost always #5. It’s like they completely switched!”

AMAZING. WOW!!! I tried to look astonished. Never mind the fact that I didn’t even know there were five types of recyclable plastic until today (or more than five? I still don’t know). I guess I’ll leave the recycling expertise to Lauren and her planter mattress.

Not only was dinner amazing because of the food and exotic plastics, but also the views were beautiful. We were finally in the mountains!

After dinner, we hung out with the PB&J crew for a little bit in the observation car. Here’s the whole group! We’re facebook friends now, so the whole thing is pretty official. Except we’re not friends with Bob, because he doesn’t like social media and all that “hashbang Twitter stuff.”

We made it to Whitefish station just as the sun was setting. It’s a really cute station. There are only like three Uber guys in all of Whitefish, so we had to wait about twenty minutes to catch a ride. No worries – we spent more time chatting with PB&J. Lauren explained the craziness about the plastics in the dining car. I’m not sure if they were properly amazed.

I’ll give you some more pictures of our hotel tomorrow, but I’m tired out after our long journey. It feels like we’ve already had so much fun, and we only just now got to where we were going. See you tomorrow!

Next week is my last week of summer vacation, and this has been the strangest summer on record. I expected to be updating this blog from Italy and from China this summer, but alas – COVID had other plans. So I settled in for a summer in Michigan, where I could enjoy bonfires, walking dogs, and the slower pace of life at home. I almost made it all the way through summer without leaving Michigan…but I couldn’t quite do it.

The tipping point was when my school put out a statement that all teachers are grounded – we can’t fly anywhere, or we’ll be quarantined and unable to work for fourteen days upon our return. It made me feel kind of claustrophobic. No travel at all – at ALL – until at least June 2021?! Eeeeep!

Luckily, not all travel is done on planes. This is why I find myself zipping across the country with my friend Lauren on an Amtrak train, somewhere in field-country Wisconsin, on my way to Glacier National Park.

The idea came to me as summer school came to a close, and the idea of spending another few weeks home alone while Rex worked all day was daunting and discouraging. On a whim, I texted my friend Lauren and asked if she wanted to go out West. Like, immediately.

Lauren’s nickname is “Bear Grylls,” named for the British survival guy, so she was the ideal friend to invite on my spontaneous adventure. She has a masters degree in Environmental Science, and she used to work at the Grand Canyon. She’s the type of person that you could drop in the woods with nothing but dental floss and a ruler, and she’d be running a small sustainable farm by the time rescue arrived.

To my surprise, she texted back right away that she was in. We initially set our sights on the Grand Canyon, since she knows it so well, but Arizona is looking awfully Covid-y. That’s when we switched to Montana and Glacier National Park, because neither of us have been there, and the bears outnumber the Covid patients in Montana.

With Montana as our destination, Lauren said she was excited – that she would bring her bear spray and her homemade granola. Not joking. She really said that. Classic Lauren.

Planning the trip went into hyperdrive, as we only had around a week from the day I texted her and the day we targeted leaving. She had to get the time off of work, and I checked with my work to make sure that train travel wouldn’t get me quarantined. When both of our works said we were clear, that was it – we booked our tickets! This was probably the quickest I’ve ever thrown a trip together…we’re practically making it up as we go. But so far, it’s awesome.

Last night when I was packing, I texted Lauren to ask if she was going to hike in jeans or leggings. She texted back that she was going to hike in specialty hiking shorts and hiking pants. Oh. I was supposed to have specialty hiking pants?! I suddenly felt like I was headed to space without a space suit. Who knew I needed specialty pants!? Well. We’re not all Bear Grylls, so I won’t be hiking in specialty pants. That’s for a planned-ahead trip, which this is not. Hopefully the bears won’t be too offended.

When Lauren picked me up to head to the station today, I saw that she packed for our week-long trip in a small backpack that she got when she worked at North Face (because of course she worked at North Face). She also had a tiny day pack from REI, but both could probably be personal items on a plane. How did she do that? And as she ticked through the things she packed (headlamp, rain gear, hiking boots, bug spray, sunscreen, map of the stars…), I started thinking we should change her name to Mary Poppins instead of Bear Grylls because of her magic bag that holds way more than it should.

I also felt like I’m a little in over my head here. I asked Bear Grylls to go on a hiking trip – what was I thinking? It’s like I was looking for a tee ball friend and ended up playing with Derek Jeter. Oh well. At least if we get lost, she can lead us back to civilization with moss and her star map.

We got a sleeper car for the train ride out, so even though the ride is thirty hours long, we have our own room! It’s got two beds – a top one that folds down, and a bottom one that’s formed when we fold down the cozy chairs we’re using. There’s a picture window where we can watch the scenery roll by, just like we’re pioneers on the Oregon Trail (except traveling at 100 mph and skipping the dysentery).

Because we got a sleeper car, we got to access the business class lounge in Union Station. I’ve never been in a business class lounge before! I feel like those fancy lounges are the adult equivalent of the teachers’ lounge. Remember in elementary school when you would walk by the teachers’ lounge and think, “Ooooooo! What a magical place…Wish I was allowed in there.” I mean, really, my degree in teaching was basically just to fulfill a lifelong dream of finding out what’s in the teachers’ lounge.

Hehe. Kidding. But you get the idea. I’ve always wanted to go in a business class lounge. This one didn’t disappoint. It was beautiful, with plushy seats and a butler-y guy walking around handing out snacks and drinks (with tongs, of course. Covid safe). We also got to board the train first, and we have our own sleeper car attendant named Terrance. I’m feeling pretty swanky. Unfortunately, we could only afford this level of swank for one way. We’ll be riding with the peasants in coach on the way back. But hey – I’ll enjoy this while I have it! Here’s our pile of books that we’re using to plan this trip on the fly (er…train):

Gotta go – it’s almost time for our dinner reservation in the dining car. We have to put our masks back on – I made us matching train-themed ones with help from my mom (thanks Mom!).

It feels great to be blogging again – talk to you soon. 🙂

Here I am, once again in the airport. I’m definitely not ready to leave, but I’m very thankful for the time we’ve had.

I didn’t plan to blog about yesterday (our travel day to Glasgow). After all, we were just traveling. What is there to say? But then Rex ended up in a kilt and my dad ended up shoplifting, so really a blog post was in order.

The day wasn’t too eventful to start. We ate a wonderful breakfast (Again. Oh how I will miss these breakfasts). Mike drove us to the train station, which was very kind. We hopped on the 10:20 toward Glasgow, and we were off! Traveling away from the North was kind of depressing. The southern part of Scotland is still gorgeous, but nothing beats the Highlands.

When we arrived in Glasgow, we checked in to our hotel and then went to Kelvingrove Park. My dad wanted to play bowls/balls. We asked the lady at the desk if we could rent some equipment, and she asked if we knew how to play. We admitted not really, and I thought for sure she would turn us away. Who wants to lend equipment to people who have no idea what they’re doing? Instead, she gave us the equipment and then walked outside to give us a tutorial. Scottish people are so friendly.

We each had our own bag of balls (cue way too many jokes about ball sacks) and a jack which we threw to know where to aim. It’s a similar game to bocce ball. The bowling green was public and super nice. Parks in America wouldn’t just hand out expensive equipment and then walk away, trusting people to return it. We didn’t have to sign in or anything. Dear Americans – stop stealing stuff. This is why we can’t have nice things.

After bowls, we went to our favorite pizza/foccacia place for lunch. Megan wasn’t working, but I liked the guy who was. He asked where we are from and then said, “Michigan? Don’t you have a really good basketball team in your state? The green one?”

Yes, sir. The green one. We love them. #gogreen

Once lunch was over, it was time for SHOPPING!!! Taking home foreign currency is a little pointless unless you have enough to make it worth converting back to dollars, so we took the rest of our pounds and basically used them like Chuck E. Cheese tickets to see how many prizes we could get. My dad looked at five different stores trying to find the perfect key chain, because that’s what he wanted as a souvenir. I never realized there were such stringent requirements as to what makes a good key chain. Luckily, he eventually found the perfect one. Please compliment it if you ever find yourself in the proximity of his keys.

Back at the beginning of the trip, I convinced Rex to agree to try on a kilt. Fotunately/unfortunately (depending on who you ask), we biked all day every day and the shops here close at 5:00. He hadn’t had the chance to try one on. But today, ladies and gentlemen, the luck ran out! YAY! I also convinced my dad to try one on because Elle requested it. (Me: “Dad, I don’t have that many blog fans. WE NEED TO GIVE THEM WHAT THEY WANT!” Haha.). Here are the men in their tartan finest. My dad chose his based on a clan that I guess we’re distantly related to, and Rex chose his because “green, brown, and orange are hunting colors.”

Please note that one of them is wearing the kilt backwards, though none of us knew it at the time. Can you tell which one?

After kilts, we raided a candy shop. We bought a stupid amount of candy, as candy is a great way to spend a small amount of cash. Then we sat on a park bench, eating candy and drinking Irn Brus, until we all felt sick. We were surrounded by a ridiculous amount of pigeons, which sort of felt like home.

After some research about what was going on in Glasgow that night, I suggested we go to the pub quiz at The Sparkle Horse. Rex looked at me skeptically. “Are you kidding? You want me to go to a place called The Sparkle Horse?” I assured him that the pictures looked nothing like the pink tea room (I already miss that tea room). He reluctantly agreed to go.

We walked back to the hotel first to drop off our things. As my dad was going through his shopping bag, he got really concerned. “Guys,” he said. “I have two key chains. How did I get two key chains?!” He pulled them both out – one was the perfect key chain, and one was the second-perfect key chain. Rex and I just stared at him. “Did you steal that?” I asked.

“No!” He held up his hands defensively. “I swear! I don’t know how it got in there!”

“Likely story,” said Rex. “Is that what you’re going to tell the cops?”

“Maybe when I went to put the key chain back, I thought I hung it up but actually it fell in my bag,” my dad said. Then he sighed. “Can you imagine if I told that story to security? I mean, I wouldn’t even believe me. Ugh.”

He stared at the two key chains. “I’ve never stolen anything in my life. This is bad.” He looked out the window, like maybe some police cars would come squealing around the corner to apprehend him on account of his key chain thievery. They did not.

The store was about a mile away, and it would have been closed by the time my dad got back to return it. So basically, my dad’s bringing stolen goods into America. No one tell customs.

We walked over to The Sparkle Horse just in time to sign up our team for the trivia night. Our team name was The Third Wheelers, which I thought was pretty clever. Here we are, ready to rumble:

There were different question rounds, and the first category was set to be all political questions. The three of us looked at each other, a bit panicked. We know barely anything about Scottish politics. Unbelievably, two thirds of the questions were about American politics. Isn’t that strange?? Rex said, “I feel like America is the preppy, popular kid of the world. No one really likes us, but they still all want to follow what’s going on in our life.”

We still got some wrong, which was a little embarrassing since the questions were about our home country. But come on – do YOU know who the Secretary of Defense was under Gerald Ford? Hmmm??? DO YOU?

Our team did well overall. We got a lot of the answers by working together, but sometimes only one of us knew it. My dad got a golf question about who won the Masters twice in the past nine years (Spieth), I got a bonus point for us when our team was the only one to name Bolivia as one of the world’s largest landlocked countries, and Rex kicked butt in the picture round, which was all bird identifications (I’m not kidding). We wrote our answers on paper and then handed them in for grading, which was fun and pretty old school. We scored in the middle of the pack after four rounds, but by that time we’d finished dinner and were pretty exhausted. We decided not to stay until the end because it would have gone until at least eleven, and we had a plane to catch in the morning.

Our walk back to the hotel was beautiful as the sun set over Glasgow. All good things have to come to an end, but it was good to end on a high note. Thanks for coming along with us. 🙂

At breakfast this morning, my dad tried black pudding. It was, predictably, not great. Our BnB hostess asked why he didn’t finish it, and he admitted he didn’t like it much. When he said he looked up what is in it, she rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “You never look at what’s in it,” she said, like this was an obvious rookie mistake. (I looked it up, by the way. It’s pig blood and fat and…grossness). She said that maybe next time she’ll offer sample tastes, because it’s so wasteful to lose that whole thing of pudding, you know? She held his plate up, now drawing attention from the other people, and my dad agreed that maybe a taster would be a good idea. Meanwhile, I started frantically trying to finish my omelet even though I was completely full. I didn’t want the wasting food lecture!

Don’t get me wrong – she was friendly about it, and our hosts are so cool, but my dad was laughing and said he hadn’t gotten a “clean your plate” speech since he was about ten. Good news, though – Archie the Jack Russell Terrier got the rest of the black pudding. He’s the BnB’s “guard dog,” and he’s fun even though he doesn’t like me. Here’s a picture of him:

As soon as breakfast was over, it was time to ride for Queen and country (my dad started saying this days ago – “We ride for Queen and country!” – even though, obviously, this makes no sense in our case). Today was a loop around Loch Tummel. The route description described today’s ride as “moderately undulating,” which we’ve learned is code for “these hills may actually KILL YOU.” They just about moderately undulated my legs off.

The best/worst part about these hills is that not only were they steep and long, they were very winding. I’d be close to the top of a hill, huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf, then I’d turn the corner and realize that the hill didn’t stop at all but rather kept going. It’s probably for the best, because if I’d seen the whole hill at the outset I probably would have given up. One hill went literally for miles. IT. WAS. RIDICULOUS.

At the top of the hill-that-never-ended, we came to a spot called “The Queen’s View.” It’s supposed to be one of the best views in all of Scotland (no wonder it was so high up), and Queen Victoria loved it. She wouldn’t have visited it quite so much if she had to cycle there, let me tell you.

The view was gorgeous. We could see a huge lake that stretched for miles, lots of mountainous hills, etc. The problem with the view is that when you know you have to cycle around that entire lake and conquer every one of those hills, it makes the scenery equal parts impressive and intimidating. The three of us looked at each other nervously, knowing that we had a lot ahead of us.

While at the Queen’s View, we ran into our old friends Dan and Carole (okay, once again, this would be cooler if I’d told you about them before). They’re cyclists from Montana, and we met them a week ago back in Callander. They’ve cycled all over the world. Since we’d be staying in the same city tonight, we agreed to meet up later for dinner.

We could only stall at the Queen’s View for so long, and then it was time to cycle on. The good news about today’s ride is that the views were completely amazing. The bad news is that breathtaking views = breathtaking hills. It was a good ride to end on, because we certainly felt like we worked for it!

At one point, we biked through some remote camp sites. We stopped to eat some snacks and skip rocks. My dad and I took a nap, which I guess has become a sort of routine. It was so peaceful there, and also we were so tired…you can’t really blame us.

After a hilly yet gorgeous ride, we got back to Pitlochry. We had to tackle Bonnet Hill one last time. Our BnB is at the highest part of town, straight up a quarter mile hill. When we finally got to the top, we were elated. We’d done it! The full week of biking, no injuries, bikes in-tact, and my dad’s shoes even stayed on his feet! Barely, but it counts!

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! HOORAY FOR US!!!

My dad says he’s probably going to retire his shoes after this trip. I mean, they’ve crossed two countries and worked for thirty-seven years. That’s longer than most human careers. Our BnB owner said she would love the “honor of throwing them in the bin,” but my dad might display them in his man cave at home.

After biking, we all went to our rooms and crashed. I fell onto my bed and fell asleep almost immediately. After an hour of recovery, we made plans for the evening. My dad went golfing with Mike  (one of our hosts). You should have seen my dad – he was so pumped. He said, “If only I could go tell my eighteen-year-old self, playing on Midland High School’s golf team, that one day I’d play in Scotland, I would have said there was no possible way!” Good thing he brought a golf shirt. The camouflage shorts were a little much, but they still let him in. Phew.

Rex and I don’t golf, so we stayed back. Rex said, “You know your dad and Mike are going to talk about American politics…you think we’ll still have a place to stay tonight?” We half expected to come back and find all our things next to the curb.

While my dad golfed, Rex and I decided to check out downtown Pitlochry. We passed by a tea house, and I felt a fizzle of excitement. A tea house would certainly have scones and cream. Rex agreed to go in with me. It was the cutest place, all decorated in pink and teal, and they had gazillions of tea choices.

They served the tea in adorable china cups, and my childhood doll tea parties had totally prepared me for this moment. I served the tea and clinked china cups with Rex, pinkies up. “This is kind of emasculating,” he said. “I’m having tea and cakes in a pink restaurant.”

“It’s not emasculating,” I countered. “There’s a deer on the wall. Very manly.”

He said it was a girly deer. Which okay, maybe it was. But he was a good sport, and I had a phenomenal time. The only thing that could have made it better is if I could have brought my favorite six-year-old, Brielle. I’ve had a few tea parties with her, and she would have appreciated the fabulousness of this tea room. We would have had petit fours and scones and the whole thing would have been EPIC.

Once we were full of tea and scones, we checked out the Pitlochry Dam. The dam itself was interesting (though we used to live fifteen minutes from the Hoover Dam, so we’re familiar with the concept). The best part was the phenomenal views from the dam and from the surrounding trails. I didn’t even want to blink.

We probably could have stayed there forever, but we had a seven o’ clock date with our Montana friends. We met them at Café Scozia, an Italian place, and had a great dinner talking about cycling and about life. They said we’ll always have a place to stay in Missoula (L&L – let’s add that to our road trip!). Then we all went to see Amanda at Scotch Corner, who served up some ice cream for us for the third day in a row (I’m telling you – it’s good ice cream). We finally perfected the ultimate cone: salty caramel ice cream in a chocolate waffle cone and topped with a flake. I would buy you one right this minute if I could.

Now I’m back at the hotel and trying to figure out how we’ll get to Glasgow tomorrow. We have one day left, and then we catch the plane home on Tuesday. I’ll sign off for now because Rex has turned on a cricket game. It’s really intense – lots of people are screaming and such – but neither of us can figure out the rules. Is it a close game? How do you win? What’s the point? If we watch long enough, maybe it will make sense.

I sure will miss seeing these views every day.

We just got back from dinner at a pub where we listed to live music. It was a Scottish version of ska and reggae. It wasn’t the type of music we were expecting from a pub, but it was still fun! Not sure I’ll ever hear “I Shot the Sheriff” quite the same way again.

STOP EVERYTHING. Rex is flipping channels, and we just stumbled upon a special about the royal family’s budget. Did you know Prince Charles gets an allowance of 20 million pounds a year? And every trip on the royal train costs more than a first class ticket around the world? Obviously this is very important viewing. Blogging will have to wait. *puts down laptop*

Okay. I’m back. Today at breakfast, the owner of our BnB said to Rex, “Do lots of people tell you that you look like Bradley Wiggins?”

No, ma’am. Believe it or not, no one has ever said that. Also, who the heck is Bradley Wiggins?

Turns out he’s a pro cyclist who’s won the Tour de France and an Olympic gold and la la la. Basically, a cyclist almost as cool as us (LOL). What do you think? I can see the resemblance.

Today was a short mileage day (about twenty-five miles), so we had some more time to explore. We started by heading up to Blair Atholl Castle. On our way there, we met an old Scottish couple. They asked us if we were headed to the village market. We decided to take a detour and check it out.

The village market was a small arts/crafts/bakery show inside a church. One table looked particularly busy, so we went to see what was going on. It was a game. For one pound, you could choose five tickets out of a bag. If your ticket number ended in a 0 or 5, it meant you won a prize. You would have to go to the prize table and find the prize that corresponded to your number. Some prizes were cool, and some were super weird. The guy in front of us won a prize, and his number corresponded to a dozen dead roses. He picked up the dead bouquet and handed it to his wife, saying, “Here. Now you can stop complaining about how I never get you flowers.” Haha! She didn’t look super thrilled about it. Then a middle school kid won a bottle of wine, which seemed kind of illegal, but hey – I’m a foreigner, so what do I know?

We decided to play, so we paid a pound and chose some tickets. I won! I got number 465, which corresponded to this funky dog toy set. Hopefully our dogs like them.

We played again, and Rex won some hand soap that is too large to bring back to the USA. Blast! We gave it to a random Scottish man.

After the village market, we headed to the castle. The old Scottish couple told us about a back road that goes through some woods and pops out near the garden, which would allow us to get in to the castle grounds without paying. We wanted to add some mileage to the day anyway, so we checked it out. It was a cool adventure to go rogue from our mapped-out route, but when we got in we felt guilty about not paying and went up front and paid anyway.

The grounds were so beautiful. One part of the woods had trees so huge that there was no possible way we’d get the whole tree into a picture. Here’s the best we could do (my dad’s there for size comparison).

Here are some other garden pics, including an old run-down church:

Next stop after the castle was the Bruar House. We didn’t know what to expect from that at all. Turns out it’s a giant department store (kind of). It’s like an outlet mall, but one company owns every storefront. There’s the women’s clothing store, the men’s clothing store, the housewares store, etc. Like if you split up all sections of Macy’s into separate stores, I guess. It’s tough to explain. It was cool, but it was a bit swanky for us. We got a few snacks and then headed on our way. Rex and I split a sandwich. The flavor they had was “chicken and corn,” which isn’t a type I’ve heard of before. Perhaps a chicken and corn sandwich can be really delicious, but this one was about 60% mayonnaise, 30% chicken, and 10% corn.

I’m exaggerating, kind of. But it wasn’t super. Don’t ask me why I just wrote about it in this blog. Now I’m going to be sixty years old and reading this, thinking, “Oh YEAH. Even though I didn’t want to, now I can remember that bizarre chicken and corn sandwich!” Here, instead let me show you a picture of swanky Scottish fashion. This was a huge poster in the men’s shop.

After lunch, we biked back to Pitlochry (where we’re staying again). We decided to celebrate another successful day with some ice cream. When we walked into the ice cream shop, the woman behind the counter looked at Rex and said, “Hey, you’re that photographer!”

What?

Good thing we recognized her. It was our friend Amanda from two days ago! (This would be a way cooler announcement if I would have told you about Amanda before). When we were in Aberfeldy eating fish as big as your face, she was waiting for her food in the same shop. When she heard we were headed to Pitlochry, she told us to stop by the Scotch Corner shop and tell the person working that Amanda sent us. Although we hadn’t remembered what ice cream shop she told us about, we ended up there by serendipity anyway. It was so fun that she recognized us, and we got pretty hearty servings of ice cream. We finally tried whiskey ice cream, which I do not recommend. It tasted…like creamy whiskey.

Tomorrow is our last day on bikes. Our goal is to make it with no injuries, in-tact bicycles, and with my dad’s shoes still on his feet. If we can hit those three marks for just one more day, we’ll have made it. Wish us luck!

A couple miles into today’s cycle, Rex yelled, “OH MY WORD” and slammed his breaks. The tires skidded in the gravel. A shot of adrenaline hit me as I slowed down to turn around. Was he hurt? Did his chain fall off again? Was he about to crash? What happened?

By the time I jumped off my bike, Rex was already off his and diving for his camera bag. I asked what happened, and he answered with one whisper-yelled word:

“CHUKAR!!”

Wow! What an opportunity! How amazing! To see a real chukar out in the wild! That’s an absolute dream for…some people! Maybe! (EXCEPT WHAT’S A CHUKAR?)

For the record, spell check doesn’t even recognize “chukar” as a real word. I had to Wikipedia this thing to make sure I spelled it right, which I hadn’t. I’d spelled it “chucker,” since that’s how you pronounce it. But spell check doesn’t believe in either word.

I ran up to Rex and followed his rush back to where he was riding. “What’s a chukar?” I whisper yelled back. I was 90% sure that it was a bird, but it could have been the size of a chickadee or an ostrich for all I knew.

“It’s that.” He pointed, gazing at the chukar lovingly, and then darted behind his camera lens. Click click click.

I couldn’t see the chukar. Apparently it moved, because Rex followed it. It went into someone’s yard, and Rex crouched behind a bush to stay out of sight. He creeped his lens around to try to take pictures. In order to get the chukar, he had to aim his lens right at the house.

“You’re such a creeper,” I whispered. “It looks like you’re trying to take pictures through these people’s windows. They’re going to think you’re a stalker, so they’ll call the police. It will be a major plot twist when YOU are the one who ends up arrested in Scotland.”

The picture, apparently, was worth the risk. Click click click.

Rex started explaining about the bird: “They’re sometimes called the red-legged devils. In the US, you can find them in the high mountains of Nevada and Idaho.”

I’m sorry, did I suddenly crash the set of National Geographic?

After the pictures, we zipped up to my dad (who didn’t stop for the photo op – go figure), and Rex told him that he got pictures of a chukar. (“Can you believe it? A chukar.”) My dad said the logical thing to say in this situation:

“A chukar? That’s a bird, right?”

Haha! Poor Rex. No one understands him. I wish I knew more about upland birds, and today I got one step closer. Now I know what a chukar is. They’re pretty cute, too.

This was pretty much the day of upland birds. We saw SO many pheasants. Even when we checked into our BnB for the night, there was a pheasant right outside the window. The scenery and pheasants reminded me of Danny, Champion of the World, for anyone who’s read that.

Today was a very pleasant ride. We rode through some beautiful forests and also some farm land. We saw a lot of sheep and cows. It was so peaceful that I even joined my dad for his traditional afternoon nap.

We stopped in the town of Dunkeld for lunch. My dad found a great lunch deal. It was from a busy deli place, and they had a take-out lunch special. You choose a sandwich, a soup, and a scone for only six pounds and sixty-five pence. What a steal! Although I still don’t know which pence coins are which, so I always choose between standing there squinting at the tiny letters or holding a handful of change to the employee and asking for help.

Anyway, we got these really cute lunch bags that held all of our choices, then we went to a nearby garden area for another picnic.

Just after our picnic, we got a call from our realtor. There was a potential third offer coming in on the house, we needed to get a response back in to buyer 1, and buyer 2 had the official offer on the table that we needed to counter. The time difference had made everything a bit sticky. Ahhhh! Very exciting, but also stressful. You would think it’s easy: if you get multiple offers, just pick the highest number. Turns out it’s more complicated than that.

Rex and I told my dad we had to go figure out our life for a minute, and we called our realtor back on what has now been dubbed “The Medieval Bench of Real Estate.”

The poor buyers had to be thinking, “What the HECK kind of people put their house on the market and leave the country the next day?” Yeah, sorry buyers. That wasn’t the plan, but it’s what happened.

The Dunkeld Cathedral was near the Medieval Bench of Real Estate. We went to check that out. It was built in the thirteenth century, and half of it underwent renovations in 1908. The rest is still in ruins. Highly cool.

After a very dramatic lunch break, we biked onward to Pitlochry. The last five miles absolutely kicked our butts. The craziest hills of the day seemed to pop out of nowhere. Plus, we heard thunder in the distance. If there’s anything to add rocket fuel to a bike ride, it’s hearing thunder. The clouds were closing in, and they started spitting rain. It wasn’t enough to actually be raining, but just enough to say, “Get your butt up that hill before I drench you and/or strike you with lightning.”

Luckily, we made it to Pitlochry. We grabbed some dinner at a swanky Italian place and then got ice cream cones on the way back to the hotel. I almost tried whiskey ice cream – made with real whiskey – but I chickened out. I don’t like whiskey in a glass, so why would I like it in ice cream? No one got it, but now I kind of wish we did. It’s not like we can try that back home.

We’re riding a loop tomorrow and will be back in Pitlochry tomorrow night, so maybe we’ll have a chance then.

Oh, and if you were wondering, we did accept an offer on our house. Papers are now electronically signed. YIPPEE!!!!! That is almost as exciting as seeing a real-life chukar!!

Let’s kick off today’s blog with a little photo segment called “Weird Signs From Scotland.” Here you go!

Attack of the red squirrels! Ruuuuuun!

Grandma wouldn’t have gotten run over by a reindeer if these signs would have been posted.

The rock sign isn’t particularly funny by itself, but it was funny that Rex was accidentally standing right under it. Good thing he was wearing a helmet, I guess.

Clothes for dogs and children in the same store? What?? I mean, it’s not that Penny NEEDS a handmade tweed jacket, but maybe it would make her look more sophisticated.

Let’s be real – pugs aren’t going to look sophisticated. No reason to spend a gazillion pounds on tweed.

Again with the city names. Killin? Dull? Who got the job to name these? There were NO better names?

Okay. That concludes my segment on signs.

Today was another gorgeous day. We left pretty early to try to beat a storm, but the storm didn’t end up rolling in (fine by us). The first half of today’s ride was extremely hilly. Nothing was flat. Up, down, up, down, up, steeper up, up, down. I was thankful for the “Hills and Drills” YouTube cycling workouts I did on my stationary bike back home, because they were helpful today.

We took a break at this cool marina place. Then we found the ruins of an old castle. Who doesn’t love ruins??

The second half of the ride was a lot flatter, which was welcome. We only had one bike disaster today, and it wasn’t ours. There was a Scottish man along our route who had bike trouble. We stopped to help (well, Rex and my dad stopped to help. I do the travel planning, but I know nothing about fixing bikes). The chain was caught in something. They looked at it and looked at it, jiggled some stuff around, and finally my dad said, “You’re probably going to have to force it, but I don’t want to wreck your bike.” The Scotsman didn’t want to do that, so we took the back tire off, jiggled things some more, etc. My dad finally wriggled the chain free (which, honestly, I’m pretty sure he just smashed it like he suggested. We’re all lucky he didn’t break the bike). The Scottish man was very happy. We were glad to pay it forward from when we were rescued a few days ago.

I thought about taking a picture of them working on it, but that would have been super annoying. “Hi, sir! Sorry you’re stranded on the side of the road! Sorry nothing’s working to fix your bike! SMILE!!” Here’s my sneaky picture. My dad is glowing. His shirt might be radioactive by now because he’s been wearing it for every ride.

About three miles before we got to tonight’s city, we passed a wildlife center. They do a lot of paid safaris into the highlands, but walking their Discovery Trail was free. I’m so glad we checked it out – we got to see quite a bit of wildlife! The fawn was my favorite.

We ate lunch at the wildlife center and checked out the shop. Rex had a difficult time narrowing down what he wanted from the many grouse souvenir options. Back at home, it’s nearly impossible to find grouse gifts. In the end, he settled on two mugs for his collection. I got a scarf. My dad got a sandwich.

Fresh off our excitement from the wildlife center, the last few miles flew by. We checked into tonight’s BnB, and then we headed into town to check out Aberfeldy.

As soon as we went to the town center, my dad saw someone with fish and chips. “Look at that!” he said. “That fish is as big as my face! I want fish and chips as big as my face!” For the next hour, he kept saying, “Oh my gosh. I’m so excited for dinner. I’m going to get fish and chips AS BIG AS MY FACE.”

We went hiking on a trail near the city center, which was a lot of fun. We also popped into a couple shops. Finally, we got some takeout food (including the fish as big as my dad’s face) and had a picnic in the park.

We walked the half mile back to our place, then showered and relaxed a while. Our room has this awesome couch that looks out a picture window.

My dad is a little salty about the fact that we have this huge window. His room, which he previously thought was fine, is now “the dungeon” because he says it’s dark and stupid without our window. Haha. He’s been hanging out in here sometimes, but we have plenty of room. We even have a separate office room. I could be writing in there, but the view from the couch is too fabulous.

Our BnB sits above a restaurant, so we went down there to get some dessert. I ordered a delicious pavlova.

Before we left for Scotland, my mom gave me some money to buy everyone a round of drinks on her. I got Italian wine, Rex got Famous Grouse whiskey, and my dad got an apple/raspberry bottle of kid juice. The waitress looked at him like he was a total weirdo, but whatever. The citizens of Aberfeldy should be used to old people being weird – there are street signs warning against them and everything.

Anyway, the drinks were great. Thanks, Mom!

Turns out we had important things to discuss over dessert – Rex and I got an offer on our house (yay!!!!). We had to discuss counter offers, possibly waiting on another offer that should be arriving in the next couple hours, etc. It was kind of stressful.

On the other hand…I was drinking a glass of wine, overlooking the Scottish highlands, and discussing my real estate deal back in America. The whole thing felt quite posh.

(A Scottish woman used the word “posh” in conversation today. Why don’t we use the word posh more often?? I will now start using it all the time. I imagine I’ll sound quite posh.)

Now we’re back on the couch and watching a storm roll in – hours later than it was supposed to, but whatever. It’s pretty fabulous to watch the lightning over the hills.

Keep your fingers crossed for us on the house thing. I’m tired from a long but exciting day…who knows what will happen tomorrow?

Rex and I are hanging out in my dad’s room at this BnB because he has the best WiFi. We’re in the tiny town of Killin (who named their town that? I realize not everywhere can have a great name like Kalamazoo, but Killin?). Our BnB is called The Old Bank. It was built in 1830, and guess what? It used to be an old bank. We really love it.

There are some ten(ish) year old boys playing outside in the yard right now. Pretty sure one of them lives here. They’re laughing about Fortnite and occasionally yelling things like, “WHO FARTED?!” But it’s all in a Scottish accent, so it sounds more like, “WHO FAH-TID?” Now they’re discussing their YouTube channel. I hope you make it big one day, little Scottish dudes. They’re making me miss my students back home.

Today was another beautiful ride – possibly even more beautiful than yesterday. We’re on a Scottish national cycleway, so we hardly ever have to worry about traffic. It’s amazing. Look at these views:

I kept saying to Rex, “I can’t get over how beautiful this is. I CANNOT get over it. Are you over it?! Because I AM NOT.” Haha. He was probably so sick of me. At one point we had woods to our left and a steep cliff to our right. I was so busy looking at scenery that I started drifting toward the cliff. Ah! I stopped to take a picture instead so that I could focus on the road and not die.

Around halfway through the day, we stopped in the tiny town of Balquhidder. This town is great – look how they’re recycling old phone booths.

Seeing the books reminds me: We met an old lady on her way to the library. She was very excited about her reserved library book and said, “I’m so glad people are getting back to reading books instead of always watchin’ the bloomin’ television.” I feel you, lady.

She asked us about how we’re holding up cycling in this terrible heat. Let’s review – it’s seventies and sunny. I was in long sleeves and pants all day even though I had a sleeveless shirt to wear if I wanted it. Yet everywhere we go, people can’t believe we’re outside in this weather. Strange.

Balquhidder has an old church with the ruins of an even older church next to it. We spent a little bit of time investigating, but most of the graves were too old to read.

Balquhidder was so small. It was basically that phone booth, the church, and two other buildings (neither of which had food for sale). We were bummed because we’d been hoping to get lunch there. Luckily, not even a mile outside of town, we came upon a cafe.

This was one of the quirkiest cafes I have ever seen. Their decorations included guns, a pink guitar, a weird moose rocking horse, an owl wearing a suit, and a taxidermied weasel wearing a top hat. Among other things. Oh! And they had this cool poster about cycling:

The decorations were weird at first, but the food was delicious. At one point, this toddler girl walked up to my dad and glared at his shoes. Can’t really blame her – we had to borrow some duct tape to repair them, so they’re looking extra…er…vintage.

After lunch, we went up a STEEP incline. There were switchbacks going up the side of the mountain because it was too steep to go straight, but even the switchbacks were crazy steep. Both Rex and I had to walk our bikes for a piece of it, but my dad kept biking. Go Dad! You’re so hard core!

*applause* *blog props* *shout out* *more applause*

What’s crazy is that even with him on his bike, he went the same pace as Rex and I walking. That’s how steep it was. We all got to the top at about the same time.

The good part about the crazy incline was twofold:

1. Completely fantastic views
2. Four miles downhill after that

At one point on the downhill, it felt like I was on an amusement park ride. Wheeee! Just coast! Don’t pedal at all!

For the last two miles of that downhill, we went through The Dark Forest. Now, that forest probably has a real name, but we didn’t super care about that. It was the creepiest forest I’ve ever seen in my life (Dad and Rex both agree, and they have seen a lot of woods). It was a bright sunny day up to the edge of the forest, and then it went pitch black. You definitely didn’t want to go in there. I bet the Big Bad Wolf, the witch from Hansel and Gretel, and the Boogeyman all live in those woods.

I tried to take a picture, but you can’t get the full effect unless you were standing near it. It was the perfect place to film a horror movie. An eagle zipped out of the forest at one point, and I said, “Ack! An evil eagle!!” Because only evil things live there.

We stayed on the path, dwarfed by towering pines, and tried to zip through there quickly. I was leading at one point, and I heard a terrible crash behind me. I pulled off and saw both my dad and Rex trying to stand up and pick up their bikes. Apparently my dad crashed, and then Rex’s choice was to either run my dad over or ditch off his bike too. So they both ended up crashed. I asked if they were okay, and they both were until my dad said, “Ah HA! I have found a dot of blood! Clearly injured!” He said it triumphantly, like now he has earned another badge of honor for being injured on this bike trip. I went over to see the blood, but I never saw it. He claims it was there, so you can decide if you believe in this alleged blood or not.

Later on, my dad was trying to figure out what caused him to crash in the first place (probably stray gravel). We went over a few scenarios, but I think the truth is so obvious: The Dark Forest tries to destroy all who enter. We’re lucky we got out alive. 😉 Is it coincidence that The Dark Forest was the last two miles before we got to Killin? MAYBE NOT.

Once we got into town, we took showers and then headed to dinner. Our choice of restaurant was easy as soon as Rex saw one called Cappercallie (in case you missed it – that’s the rare grouse that Rex was so excited about back in Glasgow). I’m telling you – Scotland’s upland bird game is strong.

So we ate at Cappercallie, and then we went to a swanky place next to our BnB for dessert. All in all, it was an awesome day (which my dad says is easy for ME to say since I’m the only one who didn’t crash today, but he was smiling when he said it. Also, his injury is still only alleged).

The boys who were playing out in the yard at the beginning of this post have gone to bed now, and I think it’s about time I do to. Talk to you soon!

Forty-two miles later, I’m very tired.

It was going to be thirty-five miles, but we took an on-purpose detour (which are always far preferable to accidental detours).

The morning started with a wonderful full Scottish breakfast at our BnB. There were eggs, meats, pastries, fruits…you name it. I even tried haggis. I concluded that I will no longer try haggis.

Some people looked at my dad like he was a weirdo on account of his shoes.

He says he’s worn the same bike shoes since 1982, so there’s no reason to change now. Most people might see “my shoes would literally fall apart if not for this duct tape” as a reason to change, but oh well. Most people aren’t my dad.

We got off to a slow start. We thought our bikes were going to be dropped off before nine, but there was a bit of a mix-up. The guy from the bike shop picked us up at ten. He took us to the shop to be fitted for bikes, and I thought my dad was going to have a meltdown. He is the type who likes to bike at sunrise, so leaving after ten was a massive inconvenience for him.

About ten minutes into the ride, though, he said, “I’m trying to still be mad…but this view is spectacular.”

It really was. Also, the late start worked in our favor because the sun came out, and the weather was gorgeous! Rex heard we are under a heat advisory, which is laughable. Today was in the high seventies. It’s really hot for here, I guess, but not dangerous by any stretch.

Rex wanted to take pictures at one point, and I let my dad know we were stopping. He said okay, but then he kept going. He didn’t stop at all. Apparently “we” only meant Rex and me. When we finally caught up to him, I said that he shouldn’t ditch us without any maps or directions on how to get places. Rex is our navigation guy, and the directions can get kind of complicated. My dad didn’t agree:

Dad: Eh, I’m fine. I’ll figure it out.

Me: Do you even know what city we’re going to?

Dad: It starts with a C.

Me: Do you know what hotel we’re staying at?

Dad: Definitely not. No idea whatsoever.

Me: Abbotsford Lodge. If you can’t stay with us, at least don’t forget that, okay?

*a little while later*

Me: Dad, where are we staying tonight?

Dad: Abernathy Place

*facepalm*

He’s like Paddington Bear. I wanted to post a paper to his shirt that says, “IF FOUND, PLEASE RETURN TO CHRISTINE WEBB AT ABBOTSFORD LODGE.” He didn’t want to take picture breaks, snack breaks, or drink breaks, and he also wouldn’t take a break to let us put some maps on his phone for him. I think he was freaked out by our late start. I tried telling him that it wasn’t safe to cycle alone since he could stroke out or something, and no one would be there to help him. He said, “That’s fine with me! Cycling in Scotland is a really cool way to die!” So. That wasn’t very effective.

We convinced him to stay close enough to not get lost, which is good because we decided to take a ferry to the opposite side of Lake Katrine (hence the extra mileage). It was a gorgeous ride, and my dad got his routine afternoon nap. He was much more chill after said nap.

The bike back from the ferry was so smooth – it was on a paved bike path with no cars for thirteen straight miles. Amazing. Major props to Scotland on their national parks. Every turn was breathtaking, and once again I’m so annoyed that cameras don’t capture things well enough.

We saw two pheasants while we rode. One flew out close enough to my dad that he could have punched it (not that there’s any reason to punch a pheasant, obviously). Rex got pictures of the other one. He said, “If I would have had any idea about how important upland birds are in Scotland, this would have been my #1 country to visit long ago!” Lots of places decorate in upland bird motifs, and there really are a lot of pheasants around here.

About six miles from home, we ran into our disaster of the day: Rex’s bike chain broke. It didn’t just fall off…it literally broke. It fell in the trail behind his bike.

Not sure how much you know about bikes, but that’s bad. We have a pump to inflate tires, a replacement tube if one pops, etc. But a broken chain is really rare, so we had nothing for it. We were in the middle of the woods, and all three of us looked at each other in mild panic.

After some fruitless attempts to fix the chain, we agreed that my dad and I would bike for help while Rex stayed and walked his bike. He was only a mile or so from a road. He gave me his navigation supplies, and I left him with my phone in case of emergencies (but like…who was he going to call? And 911 isn’t even the correct number over here. I think it’s 112 or something. I don’t know. I’ll figure this out now). It was not a good moment for the team.

A couple miles away from Rex, a guy in a large pickup truck pulling a trailer drove down the road. My dad waved him down. When he rolled down the window, my dad immediately noticed his camouflage sunglasses and said, “Hey, are you a hunter? Me too!”

I KNOW he was setting up a personal connection and blah blah blah, but by the time they were talking about what type of gun the guy shoots and what the store Field and Stream is in the United States, I wanted to say, “Excuse me! Stranded husband in the wilderness back there! HELP!” Luckily, my dad finally said, “We have a fellow hunter in need. Any chance you could rescue him?”

The man agreed. Score! My dad and I started to bike on, but we weren’t sure Rex would be out to the main road by the time that the man came by. My dad left me at a sailing club while he zipped back to make sure Rex connected with our new best friend. I then realized that the three of us were all separated, miles apart from each other, in a foreign country. And I was the only one with maps. It’s like the part of the book where an author thinks, “How can I make this situation even more complicated?”

After practically forever, my dad came back. Mr. Scotland had found Rex. Turns out Mr. Scotland is a hunter, loves bird hunting, and had his three hunting dogs with him. By the time we picked Rex up at the nearest bike shop, he was beaming. “That was a highlight of my day!” Rex said. “I got to hang out with three dogs, talk about hunting, and I invited that guy to come hunt with me in Michigan sometime. He has my information.”

I realize there’s almost zero chance that will happen, but I kind of hope it does. We could add it to the “super bizarre ways Rex met his friends” list.

Dinner was at a small Italian place. I think the food was amazing, but it’s tough to tell. Lots of food would have tasted amazing after such a long day!

Phewf. So tired. Time for bed, and we’ve got another full day of cycling tomorrow! Thanks to those of you who have been praying for us. Keep it up – we clearly need the help. Hopefully tomorrow will be a little less exciting.

When I last left you, I said Rex and I were going to hike at sunrise today. We did not, in fact, get up at 4:57 for sunrise. When Rex woke up and looked outside, he noticed it was overcast and drizzly (or, probably, he noticed that it was 4:57 IN THE MORNING, and that is a completely unsuitable time to be awake). So we went back to bed. We got up a few hours later, though, and did the hike then.

There were some horses out behind the hotel, and Rex got pictures. They must be very used to humans, because he got some extreme close-ups. I pet them for a while, and they were all nuzzly and sweet. It sort of made me want to move to Scotland and get a horse.

The castle is on fifty-four acres, and we went exploring through the woods. The trails were beautiful. At one point we found…

(I’ve been sitting here trying to come up with some clever intro or joke about what we saw in the woods, but there is nothing to say. The photo really speaks for itself here.)

Yes. There you go. A naked lady in a tree trunk. Interpret that how you want.

We went off the path a little bit (*ahem* DAD) and found some really cool ruins. Unfortunately, turns out that they were on private property, and we got kicked out. I was so embarrassed, but my dad was kind of proud that he’s been kicked out of two places in three days (the first one was that fish shop back on Day 1, when he had the takeout but tried to eat it at one of their small entryway tables). Like, DAD. STOP GETTING IN TROUBLE. FOR REAL. To be fair, none of us knew that was private property. There weren’t signs or anything. But still. If we had stayed on the path, it wouldn’t have happened. Here’s a picture, but don’t tell anyone I showed you, okay? 😉

We headed back to downtown Edinburgh for a few hours. I really wanted to go to the John Knox house, but my dad didn’t know who that was. Apparently most other tourists didn’t either, because there was hardly anyone in there. For the record, John Knox brought the Protestant Reformation to Scotland in the 1500’s. He debated a bunch of important Catholic people there, including Queen Mary. He pretty much started Presbyterianism!! Don’t you care?! DOES ANYONE CARE ABOUT THIS?!

Well, I do. Me and those three other tourists in there. Dad and Rex said that since I cared so much, I should put on these weird chintzy robes and get my picture taken looking like a Medieval theologian. They had to work really hard to convince me (read: they did not have to work hard at all. I was all pumped about being there).

A funny part was when we read about the original owner of this house, James Mossman. The outside of the house is beautiful. The guidebook thing said that the stonework was put in shortly after Mossman got married. Do you know what that means?!

Wives have been demanding house renovations for centuries! Hahahahaha! I started picturing Medieval HGTV: “Ah, yes, this is a bit of a fixer upper. We’ll add some arched doorways, possibly a stained glass window, and fix the crumbling mortar that makes you look like an absolute peasant.” Then there’s the big reveal, and the lady of the house is all, “What glory! What wonder! Slave, fetch my handkerchief before I faint dead away.”

Right. Back to our day.

We explored the city for a while and got lunch at a place called “Take It Away Spud.” It was exactly what it sounds like: a place where you walk in, order a potato, and then take it away. There was a bar of baked potato toppings. We told the lady what toppings we wanted, she put it on a piping hot potato, and we took them away. How fun! That kind of place would kick butt on a college campus after midnight. Just saying.

Once we were ready to leave Edinburgh, we went back to the train station. Before I move on, look at these cool pics of Edinburgh!

We picked up our luggage near the Palm Court, which is where we had tea yesterday. I peeked through the window, remembering my delicious scones, and guess what I saw? Guess.

MY MOTHER.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Is this going to be a new trend? Like a Where’s Waldo where she’ll pop up in each day, but we never know when?)

I guess after we told her about that place yesterday, she and Karen decided to go check it out. They were coincidentally there, sitting right in view of the door, at the exact moment we walked by. I told you Disney was right about the small world thing. Anyway, I zipped in and snapped a picture since I didn’t get one of her last night. Here’s my mom (on the right) and her friend Karen:

Since we dilly dallied a minute with my mom, we were rushing to catch the train to Callander. We hopped on with two minutes to spare, but then the announcer came over the loud speaker and we realized we were on the wrong train. Ahhh! We grabbed our stuff and jumped off, running to the next train. We hopped on that one, and it turns out it was the right train. It also turns out that we accidentally jumped into the first class car. Oops. Rex looked like he was about ready to have a heart attack with all this running and jumping and confusion. But the guy checked our tickets (I held my breath), and he didn’t say anything about us not being first class. Whoo hooo! We got to sit at this nice table, and we enjoyed our ride very much. Well, except for Dad, who fell asleep with his head on the table. But perhaps that was enjoyable for him.

Now we’re in Callander. It’s one of those towns that only has one road, and everything closes at five. We’re staying in an old mansion that was built in 1890. I don’t mean to insult the architect or anything, but…was he drunk when he designed this? There are stairs everywhere. I couldn’t get them all in a picture, but here’s a sample:

It’s kind of fun, though. Very twisty. I didn’t get a picture of the outside yet, but here’s our room (my dad has his own room for the bike trip days, but I don’t have a picture of his):

My dad wasn’t feeling too well, so Rex and I went to dinner without him. We had a great meal, then we went back to check in on him. He was watching a crime show. “Scotland has got to be ridiculously low in crime,” he said. “I’m watching this dramatic crime special. I’ve been watching it for hours, and the worst crime they’ve had is a guy that killed some girl and another guy like ten years ago. I mean, come on. That’s Chicago on a Tuesday.” Lol. So far this has seemed like a pretty safe place, so let’s hope that continues.

Okay seriously, gotta go. Nervous about tomorrow…wish us luck.