GORDON CASTLE HIGHLAND GAMES

October 25, 2024  •  Leave a Comment

GORDON CASTLE HIGHLAND GAMES

OCTOBER 25, 2024

 

                                                                  OKAY, EVEN DOG TRAINING SEEMS A LITTLE MORE AUTHENTIC IN FRONT OF A REAL CASTLE.

This week I would like to recount our day at the Highland Games at Gordon Castle near  Inverness. We had finally left Skye and driven East to Inverness to meet our friends Amy and Bill for a week in the Highlands. They are B&B people, so it was time to abandon Fran’s cooking and see how many Full Scottish Breakfasts we could handle before bursting at the seams. Fortunately, the places we stayed were very authentic and delivered a true B&B experience that I had not expected to find in this day and age.

 

                ON THE WAY TO THE GAMES, YOU REALIZE WE WERE NOT IN GRESHAM ANYMORE.

The crew decided that we had to go to the beginning of the Highland Games that were held in various places throughout Scotland. I thought I had had my fill of Highland Games held near Portland every Summer, but it turned out that these Highland Games were a different breed than the ones I was familiar with in the Portland suburbs. The games, artisan booths, clan revivals, and the music were all the same - but there was something tangibly different about the setting that made the day unique. Gordon Castle was not Mt. Hood Community College, and the participants were not Scottish Americans play-acting for the day. Gordon Castle bills itself as a premier "sporting venue" for hire, with it's own salmon streams, hunting woodland, and enough room for a small wedding for 250 guests. Normally the Castle is not open to any tours or visitors. Guests are assured that the public will not only be kept away, but will not even know that anyone is staying at the Castle. The only day that commoners like ourselves are welcome is for the annual Highland Games.While the day was devoted to Scottish heritage, all of the participants were more locals than professional reenactors. The range of true sub-cultures available at the Games was truly extraordinary.

                                                                  A WONDERFUL GORDON SETTER

This started, but certainly did not end, with the celebration of the local dog breed - literally the Gordon Setter, a pretty large and dark breed of current and formally hunting dogs that were local to the area. I have never been around more dogs that were so well trained that one barely heard a bark or saw any confrontation between hundreds of quite large dogs that could have beaten up any hound at Saturday Market. What was even more remarkable was that none of the owners thought that this behavior was at all remarkable.

 

                                                                  A TYPICAL OWNER - I'M NOT KIDDING.

Many other subcultures were present as well. It was interesting to walk the vintage automobile show and to realize that I had no idea of the “marques” (brands) that were exhibited widely - this went far beyond the Jaguars, MG’s, or Bentleys that I could pretend I knew something about. I was in an undiscovered country, even before I arrived at the farm machinery exhibits.

 

                                      I HAD NO IDEA ABOUT MOST OF THESE VEHICLES. I COULD PRETEND THIS HAD A V-8, BUT SOMEHOW I DOUBT IT.

 

                I ADMIRED THE SHEET METAL WITHOUT IN ANY WAY KNOWING THE VINTAGE OR BACKGROUND OF THE OBSCURE (TO ME, ANYWAY)                              HISTORICAL CARS.

 

                AN EXUBERANT FAIR BOOTH. I STUCK TO THE SCONES. THAT SKY WAS TYPICAL OF THE DAY, EVEN THOUGH IT RARELY RAINED.

The artists booths were more familiar, and I talked shop with a few photographers who seemed just as cynical as yours truly with dealing with a public that didn’t seem to understand that photographs existed beyond their iPhone screens. The fair food seemed to be just as dismal as back home, but we eventually found enough scones and such to satiate our hunger. What was interesting that the famed Scottish hospitality extended to the various Scotch establishments. I could have gotten stinking drunk on free samples of liquors that I would never have any chance of buying, even if I could afford them. Even Fran had a couple, as she pretended to have an opinion on “smoothness” and “smoke.”

 

                                                                   NOT THEIR FIRST RODEO

And then the music started. There were enough Marching Bands to make one realize why the Pipes might have stirred fear in the hearts of any Englishman on any battlefield for hundreds of years. Yes, there were some women around, but for the most part these groups looked like they were not only local, but had been playing together ever since they had served in the Army together. I could almost imagine their former ranks, and decide who had been harboring a grudge against the Sergeant Major for over thirty years. All in all, the spectacle was overwhelming and I soon decided to concentrate on small details rather than attempt to make sense of the tides of musicians roaming around the place.

 

                                      THE PIPES, THE PIPES!

 

                                       BE-RIBBONED HEADS

 

                QUITE AN OUTFIT

I had a great time despite myself, while of course Fran absorbed every bit of Highland culture that anyone could stand. In the end even I couldn’t resist the dance competitions, where women from seven to seventy flung themselves about doing the Highland Fling for fame and fortune. The judging seemed as serious as any Olympic Ice Skating event. And the little girls seemed radiant at their parents snapped the winners in front of a Rhododendron as big as our bungalow back in Portland.

 

                                                                  WE HAVE A WINNER!

 

 


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