Scottie sat alone on the plateau rock, listening to the sounds of bagpipes and drums and savoring the rich body and delightful hoppiness of the IPA. "This is actually pretty damn good!" he said. "Maybe not everything that isn't Scottish isn't crap!" He chuckled to himself and took another swallow of the brew.

He reveled in the colors of autumn and the lush greenness that was still quite prevalent in this boulder-strewn area. "I say, this isdoonright gorgeous!" Yet his solitude was short-lived. He heard voices coming from his left and getting closer, and even though he was three or four sheets to the wind by now, he still had the sense to reckon that they were on a direct approach to this area from the white-blazed trail not too far away.

"Ahhhh... maybe it's time to go, eh?" Scottie got to his feet -- slowly this time! -- and started back up the footpath. The voices were getting closer, and Scottie turned in their direction. Through the myriad leaves and branches he saw at least two people heading his way. He raised his cup in salute and found his way back to the granite clearing.

He had no real idea of which way to go next. He didn't see a trail to his left. Certainly, going back to the white-blazed trail was an option, but here he was with a good portion of IPA in his cup (and one of those signs he saw DID say "No Alcohol on the Mountain"). So he reckoned that a secondary trail would be a better option.

Scottie spotted, directly uphill (and a wee bit to the right), a cluster of boulders: the one on the left was rather long. A distinct gap separated it from the one to its right. "If there's not a path going through there, I'll be the Queen of England!" he said.

He made his way up the granite slope and stopped between the two boulders. "Oooh! Most definitely a trail!" he exclaimed. To his right was a large flat boulder with a well-worn path across it, and beyond that a rock with a cleat-like formation. To his left, a well-worn footpath carved its way through the trees.

Scottie took a last look downhill, perhaps to see the "ghost" that had not reappeared since it disappeared under that rock, but saw nothing of the sort. He took another swallow of the IPA, burped, and started up the footpath. The path was narrow and quiterooty -- a mildly challenging trail for a sober hiker; certainly not a good combination for a very inebriated Scotsman! But, true to his heritage, Scottie kept his footing quite well, though he noticed that he was using the small trees alongside the path to help steady his balance.

Scottie's spirits were getting higher with every step up the fairly gentle slope, and he once again broke into song...

Well, a Scotsman clad in kilt left the bar one evening fair
And one could tell by how he walked that he'd drunk more than his share
He fumbled 'round until he could no longer keep his feet
And he stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street
Ring ding diddle diddle I de O ring di diddly I oh
He stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street.

About that time two young and lovely girls just happened by
One says to the other with a twinkle in her eye
See yon sleeping Scotsman so strong and handsome built
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt?
Ring ding diddle diddle I de O ring di diddly I oh
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt?

Scottie chuckled as he reached a small clearing of exposed granite, somewhat triangular in shape. Downslope were trees, and upslope were numerous slabs of granite, most covered with moss and lichen. He paused to drink, and he noted all the devilishly good places to hide bottles of beer. But there was no apparition to guide him right to another one (perhaps because he hadn't finished the one he had?), so Scottie found the path continuing out of the clearing to the east.

They crept up on that sleeping Scotsman quiet as could be
Lifted up his kilt about an inch so they could see
And there behold for them to view beneath his Scottish skirt
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth!
Ring ding diddle diddle I de O ring di diddly I oh
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon birth!

Scottie entered another smallish clearing, this one marked by a large double-stack of granite on his right and another, smaller one on his left. Scottie paused again to take another drink of the IPA, then realized he needed to empty his holding tank. He wandered off-trail, following a barely-there path downhill, and soon found himself standing on open granite.

"Ooooh... wow!" Scottie marveled. The bald he entered was at just the right altitude to make it appear as though he were standing on the treetops. "Och! I only I could have this view every time I had to drain the dragon!"

Back in the two-stone clearing, Scottie looked under both boulders for stray beer bottles. Finding none, he continued up the path.

They marveled for a moment then one said we must be gone
Let's leave a present for our friend before we move along
As a gift they left a blue silk ribbon tied into a bow
Around the bonnie star the Scots kilt did lift and show
Ring ding diddle diddle I de O ring di diddly I oh
Around the bonnie star the Scots kilt did lift and show

Now the Scotsman woke to nature's call and stumbled towards the trees
Behind the bush he lifts his kilt and gawks at what he sees
And in a startled voice he says to what's before his eyes
Oh, lad I don't know where you've been but I see you won first prize!
Ring ding diddle diddle I de O ring di diddly I oh
Lad, I don't know where you've been but see you won first prize!

Scottie laughed heartily when he finished the song, and it was a good thing, too, as the trail became steeper and more wooded with less undergrowth. Scottie plodded along, step by step, until he reached a large, slanted boulder with a "mailslot" sitting to the left of the trail. He stumbled over and sat down for a brief rest. The path continued uphill at a much steeper angle, and to his left, through the trees, Scottie could see the silhouette of the massive granite dome he was headed toward.

"Phoo!" he exclaimed. "This li'l walk I'm taking has turned out to be quite rigorous! Not quite so as the Highlands, mind ye, but still a good one!" He finished the IPA, waited patiently for the last couple drops to bless his tongue, then slowly stood up. The slope of the mountain beneath his feet immediately threw him off balance, and he fell backwards onto the rock. His momentum carried him from standing to sitting to laying on his back, feet up in the air, and he slid headfirst down the rock!

"Blouy! Grunkle blochs and totter lams!" Scottie spewed nonsense while he lay there in the leaves. "Lutty froods 'n' pockin sods!"

Getting BACK to his feet was an exercise in hilarity. (If you've ever been laid out on your back with your head down a 15° slope, you'll know what I mean!) Scottie rolled to one side and got to his hands and knees. He rose to his knees and slid a couple more feet downhill. He got one foot planted on the ground, then the second, and stood up. "Bloodyeffin hell!" he yelled, and both feet promptly slid out from underneath him.

"BAAGGGHH!!" Scottie hollered. His head was spinning from the alcohol and the ups-and-downs of this little episode. He figured it might be better to crawl back to the trail and then stand up, so that's what he did. "Flibbildeefloo!" he shouted. "I... have had... ENOUGH!" He looked up the trail as he brushed leaves, sticks, twigs, spiders and other detritus from his jacket, hat, kilt and backside. He threw a one-finger salute at the uphill trail and turned downhill. He took six steps, enough to get up to a good speed, and ran smack into an invisible wall. The deflection threw him backwards and he nearly fell on his ass again, but the same force that stopped his downward walk stopped his backwards fall. It let go once Scottie had regained his balance.

Scottie turned back uphill with fists clenched and a wicked snarl on his face. Just a few feet away, a soccer ball-sized orb of misty green light hovered over the trail. "WHY are yeDUIN this tae ME!? WHY!?"

The orb of light just floated there, the misty cloud surrounding it shifting gently, but it offered no response. Scottie took a step toward it and it moved back up the trail. Another step and it continued on. Scottie stopped, took one step backwards and half of another before he was stopped dead in his tracks. He planted his feet firmly on the trail and crossed his arms. "IDOONT have to go with you!" he said. "I can stand here all day and not go one... step... further!"

As if to counter his argument, the orb silently floated before him.

"Do you know that since I've started walkin' up this moontain I've fallen doon more times than when I was but a wee lad in diahpers!?" Again, silence. "I'm right drunk as a broughty jock!" Shhh... "What the effin hell ARE you, anaway!!??" Scottie thundered.

The orb of light moved toward him. Scottie still could not move backwards. The light came right up to his face -- this close, it seemed to have a faint sound, like ringing in your ears. Scottie stood petrified and stared into the cloudy orb. He watched, amazed, as the bright light at the core grew and changed shape. A silhouette began to form in the light -- an almost human form, with legs, arms and--

"Excuse me, mister, you're blocking the trail." Scottie nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the voice behind him. He blinked and the orb was gone. He whirled around and saw a line of hikers, mostly boys and girls in their teens, waiting for him to move.

"Ah, am... excuse me! Pardon me! Just stopped to catch me breath." He stepped off the trail and made and a grand bowing, sweeping gesture, indicating that they should pass. Scottie nodded to each one as they walked by. The last two in line were young women, and Scottie blushed to a tartan red when they each took a long glance at his kilt...

Ring ding diddle diddle I de O ring di diddly I oh
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt?

Scottie looked downhill, exhaled sharply, "Wheeww!" and turned back uphill just in time to see the young lady at the end of the line cast a flirtatious glance back over her shoulder. Scottie just smiled (heh) and nodded back. He waited a minute or two for the group to get ahead a ways, then he, too, moved on. He stayed on the trail that continued straight up the mountain, forsaking all others that branched off. After a short time he arrived at the end of a fence. It was quite obvious that he should stay to the right side of the fence, but he couldn't resist a look along the other side. He could see that where the trees ended the granite slope wasplungingly steep. One slip on that and it was the express elevator to hell, going down.

Scottie shuddered at the thought of an untimely end such as that, then moved along. He walked alongside the fence until the trail turned away and up a steeper incline. He heard voices and looked up from the path to see people milling around, not a LOT of people, but far more than he'd seen so far. Some were walking along a roadway that curved past, some were going up and down further away, and some were standing to his left, looking out at the scenic view. Scottie angled in that direction and followed the fence from some distance away. He admired the vista, but felt that, compared to his Highlands, it was rather plain.

He paused to take the last swig of water from his bottle, then tossed the bottle in a nearby trash can. He looked around for the strange light-creature, but it was nowhere to be seen. "Well, what do ye suppose I should do now? Where should I go?" Scottie asked himself. "I'm obviously supposed to continue UP... and I've nae been on high-traffic trails, so there must be a side way further along." He stood there for a few minutes, resting, gently swaying in the breeze, the sun making him sleepy. Then he saw somebody coming down toward the clearing along a path uphill, in the direction of the fence. "Ah! There we go!"

Scottie found the path and followed it as it wound around a giant boulder. He stopped to read a warning sign posted on the fence and then he found himself walking right alongside the fence... that rather short fence... that was the only thing keeping him from sliding off the mountain. The view from here was better, less cluttered with close-up trees, but he was alone.

"Oh, my goodness!" Scottie griped. "When am I going to get there?" He walked by a large boulder jutting out from the grassline (and past a second warning sign). His legs were getting ready to give up on him. Scottie gripped the chainlink fence as he continued climbing.

"Come on! You can do it!" he encouraged himself. "It can't be much further!" Scottie stepped up on a flat slab of granite and then back down, and had just gotten to a third warning sign when he saw it. The "dome" of the summit. Ridiculously steep-sided.

"Och! I hafta to climb up THAT!? I'm guin' tae need another rest! He looked to his right at the trees, and stopped short. There, between two outward-leaning trunks of a pine, was the green orb of light. "Ohhh.... okay, then. Show me where it is." The orb moved uphill into a clearing, away from the fence.

Scottie followed, quite, quite wearily, and ascended a stone staircase covered with loose pine straw. To his left he saw a large, flat tableau and dark, twisty pine. He stopped on a light footpath and watched the light float a little further uphill, toward a rock nearly buried in pine straw. The light grew smaller and drifted down to the ground, then disappeared into the pine needles between the rock and a tree to its left.

Scottie looked around cautiously. People were walking past down near the fence. Further uphill, toward the center of the mountain, were more people. "This one is going to require some old-fashioned Scottish ingenuity to get without being spotted," Scottie thought. So he carefully walked right up to the rock, turned around and sat down on it. "Oh, what a pleasure to sit down!" he said.

He stealthily ran his right hand along the front of the rock to its end, and then gently pried the thick coating of pine straw away from the rock. He bent over, peered in and pulled out a chilly bottle of...

"Breckenridge ESB!" he said, quite loudly, then hushed himself. "Hee hee... I'd better pour this and stash the bottle quick," Scottie said. "There's 'No Alcohol on the Mountain'," he mocked. "And that's right, there won't be as soon as I'm finished with it!" Quick as a quick thing, Scottie had that bottle open (pfft!) and the contents in his cup.

"Mmmmm! Deeeelicious!"

###

IMPORTANT NOTE:

This hide is a constructed hide, meaning there's more to it than was there before the box arrived. There is a large piece of pine bark resting on the ground next to the tree and on the edge of the rock. This forms a roof that maintain the continuous flat contour of the pine straw above. You do not need to remove the roof. Consider the pine straw that Scottie pried away to be the front door to this little cave.

COLORS: Multicolored - label on stamp backing shows how the stamp is inked. If applicable (I can't remember!), the stamp impression in the logbook shows how it would be colored with pencils later on.