Two years ago, Tim Liddy, Bill Cosgrove, Glen Rapoport and myself took "a day off" from golf in Dornoch-Tain-Brora and made the day-long trek to Durness and back.
It howled 50 mph up there, and of course we played the nine. Just before heading off, we bumped into the crazed bag lady of a housekeeper at "the clubhouse," who confessed to us in a state of raging despair that after twenty years there the weather had gotten to her and her husband.
"The wind blows your brains out," she said.