Prairie legs: a condition in which your legs are not conditioned to climb steep inclines due to living and walking on flat land for an extended period of time.
Yes, I just made that up. Yes, it's going to be a thing. Start using it.
I have a bad case of the prairie legs. I first realizes this when in Ullapool, I decided to go for a hike. By hike, I was thinking leisurely day hike. I'd bring my lunch along, get some exercise and enjoy the outdoors.
Ha. Haha.
Ullapool, might I add, is in the highlands. Which happen to be full of mountains.
So I asked the staff of my hostel and they recommended Ullapool Hill for a leisurely walk. They actually used the word WALK.
Ha. Haha.
The night before I was listening to two couples discussing what they were going to do the next day. These couples were in their late forties, maybe early fifties. They were talking about which hike they were going to do the next day. The conversation went something like this:
"What's the plan for tomorrow, George?"
"Something easy, my leg is a little sore. What do you think, Martha?"
"Just something nice and easy. Nothing up in the clouds."
"Haha, well we could always do Ullapool Hill!"
Chortles all around.
"Come on George, I think Ullapool Hill is a little too easy."
Okay, what did they mean by nothing up in the clouds? They were joking, right? And surely if people who were almost my parents' age thought Ullapool hill was easy, it must be, right?
Right?!
So that morning I start walking. The rain is pouring down like confetti at a Katy Perry concert. I get to the hill. I look up. No, this can't be it. This isn't a hill.
My view of a hill is the ski hill at Stony Mountain. Perhaps the hills near Fiona's farm if we're talking large scale hills. I haven't seen a hill like this in the prairie. This is what we call mountains.
Now, I'm not saying it was the Rockies or the Alps. But it was a big, effing "hill".
So I start climbing. And climbing. The rain eventually starts whipping around as I climb higher out of the tree cover. Only two kilometers to go.
Remember that scene in Lord of the Rings when Sauruman tries to bring down the mountain? I felt like with all of the wind and rain, the fellowship was going to trot up the mountain and Orlando Bloom was going to yell,"Gandalf! There's a fell voice on the wind!"
I was a bit dramatic at a higher elevation I will admit. Eventually the rain stopped and the sun came out. It was still windy, but I continued to pant my way up the steep, rocky incline. There was a path for the most part, sometimes obscured by larger rocks or shrubbery.
I reached what I thought might be the summit. Finally, I thought. But that didn't seem quite like 2 km...
Well, that's because I didn't look behind me.
You know that other scene from Lord of the Rings where the camera pans up the dark tower in Mordor to Sauron's eye? It was kind of like looking up this tower of rock that I was supposed to climb.
Again, exposure to the elements made me a BIT dramatic. But only a bit.
And then I see that Austrian asshole from my hostel. He wasn't actually an asshole. He was a very nice guy. But there he is, about half a kilometer down from me, prancing up the hill like a flipping mountain goat in a tshirt and jeans (which looked pretty funny next to my waterproof pants and jacket and hiking boots).
Dammit. This guy cannot beat me to the top.
So I gathered my wits and power as hard as I could up this hillside. I manage to make it to the summit just as Austrian Alpine Asshole dances up singing,"Riiiiicola..." (maybe he wasn't singing).
And it was the best feeling in the world. And the views. Oh. My. God.
Ullapool Hill overlooks a 360 view of the mountains, four or five different lochs, the bay to the sea and surrounding cliffs. It was the most magnificent thing I could have been rewarded with. I can't even describe how beautiful it was. Not to mention the rainbows. Two different rainbows (sadly not a double rainbow, but still epic) showed up to the party mother nature was throwing from that hilltop. Incredible.
I sat up there for a couple of hours, ate my lunch and wondered in awe of it all. Whilst I sat, a number of people came up to the summit. There was a young Scottish guy with his two border collies, a middle aged couple, and what got me was the 60-some year old man with his dog. Awwwshit. And I was complaining. This guy was a hell of a lot closer to arthritis than I am. I felt pretty silly.
Going down the hill was a lot easier.
Anyway, I learned from that day that I definitely have a set of prairie legs. I mean, I'm not in the best shape by any means, but it's the prairie legs that are the killer. Need to do something about that. Especially because Edinburgh is built on hills... But I'm getting better!
Edinburgh is a fun city, but I haven't met a whole lot of people. I can't tell whether I'm lonely or antisocial. Gotta fix that soon enough, I'm pretty sure there are £2 Jagerbombs in the hostel bar tomorrow night, so everyone will be a lot friendlier.
Prairie legs though, seriously. It's going to be a thing. Spread it.
Location:Edinburgh
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