Not one of my normal climbing blogs but one about one of the other passions in my life - Whisky. I'm 40 this year and one of the things on my List was to attend the Speyside Whisky Festival based in and around the town of Dufftown (pronounced Duf-tun) in Speyside, Scotland. Bernard (the affectionate name I give my Volvo Estate) was packed ready for 4 days up North. I was a little surprised at how little there was in the boot, what had I forgotten. It was only when my wife

"That's not going to work either Chris. I'd have to remove my Helmet and strip down to my pants to squeeze up there." Chris was a "Valley Man", by which I mean he had big walled in Yosemite. Rather like his charity work, he didn't like to mention it much. As I eyeballed this hideous off-width crack it became apparent that I was tied in to the wrong end of the rope. This should be his pitch. I was "MIA" and rather like my charity work, I didn't like to mention it much. The