inTRODUCING:
Words: Gavin Goldblatt ǀ Photos: Rowan Stretton
Debbie Swales with Glen Etive’s Sam.
Field
Trialling
It was still dark and misty when we gathered in the valley, as the sun hadn't cleared the towering mountains to the east. People shook hands and hugged, shared flasks of coffee and hot chocolate, cracked jokes. The dogs did what dogs do, ran around, sniffed each other, came back for a pat, and went off again.
Finally the last person arrived and we hopped into the back of the waiting bakkies, eight people and eight dogs per bakkie, and headed up the mountain following the barely discernible ruts. The joking stopped, we all stood huddled with our backs to the biting wind, the dogs squeezed in-between our legs for a bit of extra warmth. The thermometer said 3°C, but it felt a lot colder in the wind. As the convoy ascended, the sun rose and we broke through the mist to a clear, cloudless and pale blue sky.
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