Well, I can only remember getting a clobber from my old man twice. On this occasion....was it justified....? You can make your own mind up....
Now , to set the scene the previous weekend we had been abseiling with our scout group. Full safety gear, hard hats, safety lines....
The following Saturday with nothing much on. (We were 13 I think) Stephen , Ronnie and I decided to err....have a go ourselves. First issue was the rope.
Now Stephen was blessed with an old fashioned greenie pole type washing line in his back garden. So his mum's rope was swiftly acquired. ( funnily enough she was the wife of our scout leader).
So, rope sorted we need a nice bit of rock face. Well not much in Monifieth....except.....the good old Seven Arches disused railway viaduct. A well known smokers haunt at the back of Monifieth High School.
So down to the river and off the bold three lads set toward the viaduct. . Rope attached to the remains of a signal . Now we were not daft enough to go down the middle as the rope wasn't long enough but Insuppose our spot was 25 feet!
So a nice little session was had ......
Now noticing we were now overdue for tea we set off for home. To be met by my Dad who was now out looking for the bold lads.
Not being the brightest at hiding my activities. ( the coiled rope round my arm being a give away) I owned up when asked what we were doing. 'Ah well Dad ,' says I ' We were abseiling off the viaduct.'
Now he was none to pleased but maintained a dignified silence to ask .
'What was that you were using for a rope?' This time, after being informed where the rope had been obtained from, he pointed out that this was not very sensible. It was not designed for abseiling. It might have broken under your weight. ...
Now my answer...down in family folklore....was...
Ah...well no dad! I sent Ronnie down first as he is heavier than me......
The resultant clout was somewhat swift.....
Well, it seemed sensible at the time!
