Day Five of our Scottish Fantasy Adventure was a first for us: no golf scheduled. We’ve been here quite often the past summers and on our golf trips unless it’s a travel day in or out of Scotland we always played.
We’ve learned over the years to play on the day we land and have tried to play a fairly easy, walkable course on the same day we get off the overnight flight.
Another of our lessons learned is that there is so much more to Scotland besides golf. We love the history of this place and always find time for some sight seeing or visit an attraction or two.
Distilleries are high on our list as are castles, museum, battlefields, architecture, parks, gardens and we are game for just about anything. And one of our favorite things to do away from the links is the traditional Highland Games.
Back in 2016 on our first full day here after we opened with a round on the Jubilee Course we motored up to Perth for their local Highland Games. It’s one of our best memories from that trip.
We spent the afternoon among real Scots and did our best imitation of a local by drinking G&T’s and eating ice cream. It’s a great day and we soaked up plenty of local culture.
George had found another games so Saturday morning we headed out early to Stirling a wee bit south east of St. Andrews with the required stop for a coffee to keep George focused and happy.
These Highland Game offer so much it’s hard to stay focused on one event. Of course there are all the field events like the caber toss, hammer throw, shot put, weight throw and more…like a day long tug of war competition. But there are track races, bicycle races, jumping competitions and even something called “The Bruce Challenge” (which involves some major test of strength).
And of course it’s not a games if there aren’t the bagpipe competitions and there are pipers piping all over the place. Traditional Highland Dancing occupies some major real estate at any games as what seems like hundreds of girls, of all ages compete in their bright, traditional costumes.
And they cater to the youngsters with a bunch of activities for them including a mini caber toss. And the amazing thing is that these are all going on at the same time.
It’s a great way to capture so much of what makes Scotland special and we try not to miss a day like this.
The Stirling games were great as we popped a few G&T’s together but George passed on the ice cream, not me. And we even had the chance to try our hand at some events as they allowed regular folks, even knuckleheads like us to give a few events a try.
Could we really toss a caber? How do you really throw that hammer? We found out.
I opted for the hammer throw, paid my ten pounds for two tries and had at it. I have been fascinated by this event for two reasons: the spear with a rock on its tip and the shoes. Yes the shoes.
The Scottish hammer throw varies from the version in the States. The U.S. Version has a lead ball attached to a chain. Here the ball is on the end of a long wooden spear. You try and spin the stick around, without moving your feet and throw it as far as your body lets you.
You can’t move your feet because you have long daggers sticking out of your shoes that are stuck in the ground. That had me hooked the first time I saw it.
Fortified with a few gins I slipped on a pair of these crazy shoes, reminiscent of those shoes in a James Bond movie where a knife popped out, but these were really bigger.
With plenty of encouragement from my trainer I started to flip that thing over my head and let it fly. Well it was a success in the fact I didn’t impale anyone but a poor toss way to my right and a mere 20 feet. My instructor said “Com’on lassie ya got mo’ den dat in ya!”
Challenged, I wound up and kept whirling it about until I couldn’t hang on any longer and hoped for the best. Before I could turn and see I heard shouts and screams and just caught the end of its flight as it crashed into the scorers table. Oops! That will teach my mouthy instructor and be fair warning not to let a gin infused American anywhere near a hammer.
Big brother had chosen the Caber Toss as a tribute to our old man who was a true Scot but also climbed telephone poles for a bit in his younger days and the caber is a damn telephone pole, a slim one but still a telephone pole. For the uninitiated, you have to lift the pole, balance it in your hands, run forward and flip it over. It weighs well over a hundred pounds.
We were hoping George would have a wee bit more success than I. He did.
He took to the caber like a natural and was able to lift it into his grip on his first try. His mentor and instructor was taken with his natural caber ability and insisted to train him while all the others had their turns.
He spent damn near an hour and George was reveling in his new-found calling. I downed a few more G&T’s. “Scotland the Brave” I shouted as the pipe band lit into my traditional toasting melody.
The time came for George to have his try and his new buddy was sure he would be the first and only newcomer to make a successful toss. As we were nearing the end of the day’s action the entire crowd was focused on this lone American standing in the center of the field.
Cheers started to ring out as they applauded George or maybe it was his “F**K TRUMP” tee shirt they loved.
George was ready and primed for his big chance. He bent over, sweat dripping as if he were still in that Florida heat he loves and grasped the caber. A mighty pull and he was up with a firm hold. Urged on by the crowd and his mentor cheering him on he made a mighty dash forward, almost sprinting and with a powerful heave thrust the caber.
It was a magnificent toss as it flipped over, landing on end and teetering just a second before it came crashing to the turf. A successful throw! And the crowd goes wild!
George is hoisted to his mentor’s shoulders and carried round the field to cheers from one and all.
Smiling and laughing he acknowledged the cheers, hugged his mentor and raised his arms in victory as the crowd chanted “F**K Trump.”
It was glorious.
The ride back to St. Andrews flew by as we recounted his awe-inspiring achievement. We got back and I suggested we head down to the Old Course and see if we could play some golf as it stays light to ten around here.
We summoned more energy but the Old Course wasn’t an option so I suggested the Jubilee.
The Jubilee has special meaning for us as it was here we played our first round of links golf together. In 2016 we were the first off the tee and loved every minute of it.
This time we were last off and had a chance to enjoy the humps and bumps of true linksland. A wee nip from our flasks and we were able to soak it all in.
We finished up in that glorious, golden light that photographers and golfers chase after so often.
It was a fitting end to a fantastic Scottish day. Standing on the final tee, the gloaming enveloping us, we toasted our trip, our day and each other.
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