Trick or Treat

Black Donald, Clootie, Boobrie, Brownie, Fachan, Fionn, Ghillie Dhu, Kelpie, Lothian, Monster of Loch Ness, Red Cap, Scotia, Selkie, Shellycoat and the Sidhe are all Monsters and legends of Scotland. They’re all available on the World Wide Web, if you’re inclined to wander. There are many more, each more bazaar and fantastic than the next. We use them to scare kids into brushing their teeth at night, or to go to sleep. “Stay in bed or Clootie will steel yer toes” would be the cry of many a frustrated parent, using fear as their last resort in the war for an hour of peace.

The Myths and Legends of Scotland have fed many a mouth. Droves of tourists with Nessie hats wobble down the banks of Loch Ness every year, photographing wave formations and the odd floating branch. Searching for a monster in the midst of nature’s splendour is horribly cruel to the vista, but the sweet sound of tinkling cash registers, holds us from making any such remarks.Yes, we unashamedly lap it up. Give us your coin and we’ll tell you a story. Some older than mountains, some younger than a newborn calf.

There is a tale, you will not hear in any pub or out of the way shop. A tale not shared on the internet. It is the tale of Venlak Vachlan, The first King of Scotland. Forgotten by time and lost in its remembering It is a tale I myself never stumbled across in all my years of feverous myth hunting. A tale of kingdoms lost and found where men walk in nightmares and struggle against Gods. Be warned though, I do not share this willingly or lightly, I Share this to warn those who would follow me.



Tae the auld path search,
If ye hiv the heed.
Hawd yer eyes tae Clootie,
Cross yer hert twa times.
Fur if it's Hallowe’en,
on a moonlicht nicht.
Ye ken’d yer boon,
When ye first looked doon.
V.V


1.


Three years ago, an old school friend, Simon, pressed me into a fishing trip. He had recently endured a bitter separation, and felt a weekend in the wilds of Inverness would calm his head. The War of the Roses re-enactment that would ensue was inevitable. Two previous marriages had taught him that much. ‘Maybe the next one will teach him monogamy’ was my only thought as he shared his misery on our six-hour journey.

We parked the Range Rover in a remote spot that Simon had spied from the crest of a hill. A gap in the tree line had revealed a dirt track leading down to a Loch. A Loch that was on neither of the maps we owned.
Excited at the prospect of fishing an unknown Loch, Simon’s mood had lifted. The conversation had changed from his morose marriage mishaps, to the catching of huge untouched fish.

As we ventured to take advantage of the failing light, hurriedly setting up camp, I noticed the flat, moss covered patch we had chosen to pitch the tent, was solid rock. On further inspection of a small cleared space, we found it to be a rather beautiful floor, adorned with small faded symbols. Moss and the encroaching darkness hindered any further exploration, so we quickly tied our guy ropes to neighbourly trees, and pegged what we could into any willing ground we could find.

After a fire lit, canned chilli and beer consumed, we set about scanning the Loch. It was a fair size Loch. Its banks were crowded with trees save for the clearing we camped in. A bowl shaped Loch, lined with haunting Scots pines and the occasional Douglas fir. Gazing out across the Loch; scanning for turning fish, I noticed how calm the water was. The treetops rushed with the cold October wind, our tent flapped violently every now and then, but the Loch showed no disturbance.

We both sat in silence, half asleep by the warming fire. That was when we first heard it……

But wait…. All stories that are true in their telling need an end. A place to gather our thoughts of deeds past and present. A lone star, to head towards on our journey.
There are things I must know, and Halloween night is the only time when such knowledge avails itself. So I set fourth again to find Loch Vachlan. To capture a moment in the past, to save all our futures.

If I do not return, remember me. For if this tale is lost once more, our world will be a darker place.

Marky

To Be Continued……