"Let's see... ahv had a lot of beers in just two oors... two McEwans -- nah, three... that Gaelic Ale, that IPA, and now this ESB."

He counted on his fingers, "Eight percent, eight percent, eight... nine-point-two... seven-point-eight..." a yawn stopped him. "That's a LOT of alcohol in a wee time!" he said.

Scottie stood, slowly, and steadied himself on a tree. "Cor blimey, I'm DRUNK!" he declared, rather loudly. A lone hiker down by the fence turned briefly to look in his direction, but that was all.

Scottie gathered himself up and let go of the tree. He promptly listed to his right and grabbed the tree again. He chuckled at his intoxicated state. "If I'm going to continue, up or down, I'm going to need a third leg!" He happened to gaze beyond the rock on which he'd sat, and saw a nice-looking stick.

"Heh? I dinnae remember seeing that stick there. Ah, no matter. It might do." He carefully reached out and picked up the stick, noticing that it was not exactly a branch that had been lying outside for any amount of time. It had a shiny look to it, as if it had been varnished.

"Ah! Beautiful!" He thudded the ground with it; it was light but very sturdy. Scottie carefully stepped down to the footpath in the pine straw and turned right. He was quite wobbly, but the stick helped him correct course. He followed the path uphill and wound his way through the trees, eventually losing the path, but he saw people heading upward off to his right. He headed in that direction, stumbling over the boulders and ducking under low-hanging pine branches until he reached the treeline.

"Och! I dinnae know if I can do this anymore!" he said as he stepped out onto the granite surface. His feared were fully realized when he saw the steep side of the dome -- so steep that someone had placed a handrail in the mountain to assist people going up and coming down. He looked beyond some rather odd-looking multi-colored boulders and saw more steep inclines up ahead.

Another yawn escaped his gaping maw, and Scottie shook his head. "There is NO way I'm going to make it up THERE!" Another yawn followed that statement and Scottie shook his head again.

"Nope! Not gonna make it!"

Scottie turned and headed back into the trees. He found a somewhat secluded spot and sat down on a thick tuft of pine straw. He leaned against a tree, yawned again, and noticed that he could no longer hear the bagpipes and drums. He fought to keep his eyes open once... twice... three times... asleep...

While he slept, Scottie dreamed...

Sometime later, Scottie heard voices... female voices... giggling... gasping... and he stirred briefly... thought of opening his eyes... but the firm of McEwan, Highland and Breckenridge advised him to not do so.

While he slept, Scottie dreamed...

Sometime later, Scottie woke to the call of nature. With the aid of the tree and his hiking stick, he arose and headed for a bush. He lifted his kilt and gawked at what he saw: a blue ribbon tied around what God had given him at birth! "Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh, ring di diddly I oh… lad, I don't know where ye been, but I see ye won first prize!"

He laughed heartily, plucked the ribbon off and tied it around his stick. "There's nuthin' like a free souvenir!" he said, and laughed again.

Scottie felt better, but was dreadfully thirsty. He reached for his water bottle -- and as he gripped the top, he remembered that he had finished his water and had discarded the bottle! So he was pleasantly amazed when he found a large, fresh bottle!

"Great Scot! That was a realistic dream like I've ne'er had before!" he exclaimed as he held the bottle up like a trophy. A swig or two later, he was ready to move on.
Back through the trees to the granite, he gazed upward longingly. He felt he might be able to take on the mountain now, but the sun had crossed the sky and was no longer casting a blindingly bright light upon him.

"I'll be here for a few days more," Scottie said. "I'll be back tae tame ye!" He turned to his left and followed the wide trail downward. He expected to be stopped in his tracks, but continued unabated, past where the gravel road began, past a pavilion and down some steps. He got his first taste of the Walk-Up Trail and its steep steps.

As I was going over the far famed Kerry mountains
I met with captain Farrell and his money he was counting.
I first produced my pistol, and then produced my rapier.
Said stand and deliver, for I am a bold deceiver,

musha ring dumma do damma da
whack for the daddy 'ol
whack for the daddy 'ol
there's whiskey in the jar

"Moorbly trogs! This giant's staircase is gonna murder me knees!" Scottie complained. Fortunately, an alternate route presented itself presently. The gravel road Scottie had seen twice now crossed the trail. He nodded approvingly and veered to his left to follow the road down.

It was a much easier walk. "Aye, this here be much easier than that trail!" Scottie said. Pleased with that decision, he let his weight carry him forward, and he got to moving at quite a good pace.

I counted out his money, and it made a pretty penny.
I put it in my pocket and I took it home to Jenny.
She said and she swore, that she never would deceive me,
but the devil take the women, for they never can be easy

musha ring dumma do damma da
whack for the daddy 'ol
whack for the daddy 'ol
there's whiskey in the jar

The road turned to the right and dipped down sharply. Scottie kept right on going, speeding up a little as gravity pulled him downward. And then...

... the gravel, loose and unpacked, shifted underfoot. He slid briefly, tried to catch himself with his stick, but ended up careening down the slope, gravel crunching and dust flying.

"Scree-surfing!" Scottie hooted, and played the slope like the scree-covered highland foothills in Scotland. The gravel moved a little too fast and provided less trenching than the loose scree, and then Scottie was sliding down on his rear end!

"Aaagghgghhggaahhhh!!" he screamed as his kilt was pulled up and his bare butt cheeks dug into the gravel. He slid only a few feet more, but it was a painful few feet.

"Ooohghgghhhh!" Scottie groaned, wincing mightily. He rolled to his knees and stood up shakily. Still wincing, he squatted a bit, reached around behind himself and extracted from his butt crack no less than five small chunks of gravel.

"Och! That's a pain in the ass!" he moaned. When he had sufficiently recovered his composure and the stinging on his backside had subsided he continued on. The slope was less steep now, and the gravel more tightly packed. The road curved gently to the north.

I went into my chamber, all for to take a slumber,
I dreamt of gold and jewels and for sure it was no wonder.
But Jenny took my charges and she filled them up with water,
Then sent for captain Farrel to be ready for the slaughter.

musha ring dumma do damma da
whack for the daddy 'ol
whack for the daddy 'ol
there's whiskey in the jar

He passed on his right a wide expanse of open granite dotted with trees. Alongside the road, in a stand of trees on the edge of the open granite, he saw a pine tree that had been uprooted but had continued growing, albeit sideways.

It was early in the morning, as I rose up for travel,
The guards were all around me and likewise captain Farrel.
I first produced my pistol, for she stole away my rapier,
But I couldn't shoot the water so a prisoner I was taken.

musha ring dumma do damma da
whack for the daddy 'ol
whack for the daddy 'ol
there's whiskey in the jar

Soon the road curved to the left and the downslope steepened. Another expanse of open granite, appeared ahead and, aways off the road, Scottie saw another strange tree. He veered off the road and onto the granite to get a closer look. He was focused on the tree as he walked, and wasn't looking where he was going (again!). He tripped on an erosion pit in the rock surface. He stopped, looked back and issued a curse at the pit.

Scottie turned back to the tree -- a pine that was bent at a near-90-degree angle about six feet off the ground -- and saw a familiar glowing figure.

"Well... if it isn't my old friend..." he wondered if the content of his very vivid dream was really more of a strange reality. "Hey! I have tae ask you--"

But the glow moved along a branch of the tree and shot out over the granite and across the road and stopped just on the other side. Scottie watched, turning one quarter of the way around, to his left.

"Whewwww..." Scottie sighed. "I dinnae think I should be drinkin' anymoor!" It moved a little further away. Even though he wanted clarification of his dream, Scottie shook his head. It moved again, as if beckoning him to follow.

"Oh, bother," Scottie said as the thought of a fresh cold beer got the better of him, and he started toward the road.

"Oh look, pillows!" Scottie exclaimed when he saw, neatly stacked in a long row alongside the road... pillows. "They look to be very hard and quite uncomfy, but... heehee!... they're pillows!" He stepped over them and crossed the road. He passed a twisted hunk of rusty metal and followed the glowing figure down a narrow but well-worn path. The path went through a nasty patch of brambles and ended on open granite.

If anyone can aid me, it's my brother in the army,
If I can find his station down in Cork or in Killarney.
And if he'll come and save me, we'll go roving near Kilkenny,
And I swear he'll treat me better than me darling sportling Jenny

musha ring dumma do damma da
whack for the daddy 'ol
whack for the daddy 'ol
there's whiskey in the jar

Scottie tried to get a closer look at the glowing figure, but it quickly scooted to the right and to the end of the bramble patch, then went downhill. It paused a moment to make sure Scottie was following, then zipped to the left, around the next island of plant life on the granite.

Scottie followed, of course, but stopped when he reached the tip of the island.
"My God, will ye look at that view..." Scottie gasped. "It's indescribable, other than tae say ye have tae see it for yourself!"

Scottie's little friend darted in front of him, then darted back to the trees off to his left. "Och! I'm coming, I'm coming!" he said. He spotted his friend sitting at the tip of a dead upright part of a very unusual tree.

"Bonsai!" Scottie shouted as he stepped onto a wide, pine straw-covered rock and approached the tree. "Don't go anywhere, yet, you! I've got tae ask you--"

But the glowing figure dove to the ground at the base of the tree, turned to its right and darted between the "bonsai" and a close-by pine. It cruised across the striated granite, right toward a pine with small boulders to either side.

"All right," Scottie said, and he followed. The glow condensed and brightened, just as before, and dove toward the barely-exposed corner of a rock on the pine's left. "WAIT!!" Scottie yelled. "Doon't go disappearing just yet!" The light disappeared underneath the corner of the rock and vanished.

"BLAST!" Scottie yelled. He knelt down under the boughs of the pine and pulled away the pine straw at the corner. He moved a smaller rock out of the way, and a cold bottle of Breckenridge Oatmeal Stout rolled out.

"Ooooh! Noo that's a beer a Scotsman can sink his teeth into!"  pfft!

Now some men take delight in the drinking and the roving,
But others take delight in the gambling and the smoking.
But I take delight in the juice of the barley,
And courting pretty fair maids in the morning bright and early

musha ring dumma do damma da
whack for the daddy 'ol
whack for the daddy 'ol
there's whiskey in the jar

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.