A million stories

No idea where I'm going with this post so bear with me but I know I want to say something about a man who has been a huge part of our lives for so many years. Today I'm thinking about Dario with tremendous affection and fewer tears than yesterday. I'm remembering all the daft stuff that at the time was insignificant but has taken on a deeper meaning now.

Earlier, I was thinking that between all of us who knew Dario there must be a million stories about him. Anyone who's ever met him has a Dario story to tell. A couple of years ago when I first started this blog, Dario told me I should write a book about my adventures on the WHW. I told him that if I ever did there would be many chapters that would include him and they wouldn't all be complimentary. He just laughed and then would tell me another story ending with 'You didn't hear it from me!'

At the BBQ last month he reminded me about that book and also gave me a row about not writing enough in the blog this year. I told him I'd lost my writing mojo and he said not to worry, something will happen to kickstart it again. I think he went a bit far, don't you?

But my favourite recent story involving Dario doesn't include the WHW. It involves one of his other passsions. Whisky.

Eariler this year, during that bad spell of snowy weather, Ian and Dario had a wee whisky tasting at Phil T's house (just whisky, no food as it spoils the palate). Afterwards I picked them up and took Dario home so Gillian didn't need to come and collect him. They both reeked of the water of life (I think they showered in it!) so we drove up the A9 to Blackford with the windows down. Dario kept thanking me for taking him home and insisted I dropped him off at the Baxter's place and he would just cross the dual carriageway. No way! He could barely stand never mind cross the busiest the road in Scotland. He then insisted I drop him off at the layby near his house so I didn't need to go up his wee road and turn. No way! He wouldn't have been able to walk the few hundred yards. So I stopped outside his house to let him out. It was pitch black, it had been snowing and I let 2 inebriated eejits direct me into the neighbour's driveway to turn.

The short version is they directed me into the snow covered rocks at the edge of the driveway at the front and then the snow filled ditch at the back! I was assured that is why cars have bumpers anyway. Good to know. Unsurprisingly neither had any recollection of these events the next day.

The most recent email I had from Dario was about the Crieff 10k. I was trying to rope in as many club members to help as I could. At first he offered to help and then decided he might run it instead as I had enough helpers. He then apologised and said he would be going a run near Lochnagar instead. Who knows what might have happened if I had needed him to help out on Sunday.

He was always telling me I was crazy for doing Ian's backup, for hosting the BBQ, for organising the 10k. I always told him it was a labour of love and anyway he was one to talk. He would laugh and say 'And?' His last email to me ended with 'ps, you are crazy.'

Dearest Dario, you were a good friend to me and a great friend to Ian. We will miss you always. Thank you for so many memories and so many stories.

Much love

Ali x

ps, you are crazy