It was inevitable, I had to do it, the draw inexorable and pure.
So, after a couple "scotch fudges" (fudge with a scotch whiskey inside) to warm my guts, I suited up in my 4/3 wetsuit, climbed down from the ruins and paddled across Loch Ness. I don't know anyone who's done this and it was across one of the thinnest links to the other side, but I did it. I paddled my surfboard across Loch Ness.
Was I scared of "Nessie", the prehistoric monster that supposedly lurks beneath these cold, dark waters? Naw, I even splashed around a bit to see if I got her attention. Nothing. As I figured. My bf thought I was crazy for doing it but I thought he was the crazy one for not. (We're no longer together)
I peeled out of my suit, fingers frozen to the bone from the cold, ate a couple more of the fudges and headed back to the hotel to dine and swap Nessie tales with the visitors and proprietors. I didn't have to pay for one drink all night long. But I think I got sick from the venison.
The "Drum" hotel was warm, close to the loch, had a small cafe and offered pack lunches to take for walks along the shore. And everybody wanted to hear my Nessie story. I would've made headlines world-wide had I been eaten. "Aye, Robin Z, a brave American lass, eaten by Nessie, how tragic. So what's for dinner? Not venison again, I hope."
The lore continues. read more