YOU ARE HERE: LAT HomeCollections

Scotch-Irish Host a Highland Fling in Colorado

August 05, 1990|POLLY C. ROGERS | Rogers is a free-lance writer living in Highlands Park, Colo

ESTES PARK, Colo. — If ye've e'en a wee drappie o' Celtic blood running thrae yere veins, ye'll feel it leap at the sound o' the distant piper warming to the mournful melody of "Amazing Grace."

I spotted the lone musician through the early morning mist, bagpipe clutched to his chest. His bright red tartan stood out in striking contrast to the brooding mountains behind, their peaks cut off at half-mast by the fog.

It was the second weekend in September and the high, rugged Colorado Rockies suggested Scotland's haunting Highlands, even down to the cool damp air and squishy wet grass. It made me wish for Wellies (British slang for waterproof Wellington boots) and mittens.

A short distance away were taut, white, square tents with brightly colored flags fluttering in the timid breeze. It could have been the prelude to a medieval joust, or a time-capsule view of makeshift solders' quarters on the eve of the Battle of Culloden.

In fact, it was the annual Long's Peak Scottish-Irish Festival in Estes Park--a small tourist-friendly town on the edge of Rocky Mountain National Park, 65 miles northwest of Denver.

The festival, to be held this year Sept. 8-9 at historic Stanley Park Field, attracts visitors from all over the country--15,000 in 1989, according to James A. Durward, an Estes Park dentist of impeccable Scottish lineage who's festival president.

"We draw fans from coast to coast, including Hawaii and Canada," Durward said.

And there are plenty of beguiling sights. Perhaps the most visible are the tartans and all things Scotch-Irish worn by participants and visitors alike.

Pipers are arrayed in the particular tartan of their band, but you'll also see spectators in costume, many in full dress, including a kilt, a plaid (a blanket-like coat, rhymes with shade ), a sporran (the pouch worn on a belt in front of the kilt), topped off with a busby (a tall military fur headdress).

Arriving in denim for last year's early September festival, I decided the first order of business was to buy a bit of finery so that I, too, could be part of the crowd.

Tam or bonnet? Choosing a $40 tam that included the pewter boar-head insignia, I then found a wonderful kiltmaker under a bright blue and white striped tent. Yes, some of the tents house merchants--not knights in shining armour--offering a vast selection of tartan fabrics.

Once a fabric is chosen, you are measured and the measurements sent to Edinburgh, Scotland, where a kilt will be custom-made for you. Prices on an average are $250 for a gentleman's kilt, $150 for a lady's. Orders are promised within 60 to 90 days.

Possessing more than a little of the Scot in my heritage, I selected a Campbell tartan, Black Watch pattern with a fine yellow stripe. (Although I was later informed that the bit of yellow was a modern day invention, I'm not sure I believe that.)

If you have no trace of Scotch-Irish ancestry, you won't feel morally obligated to choose your clan's tartan. If the red and green of clan Stewart's( royal tartan appeals to you, go for it. Or how about Macpherson's gray, black and red hunting tartan?

If you've succumbed to the enticement of the plaid, but only want a token, consider buying a tie woven in one of more than 100 patterns. Or a Harris Tweed jacket. Or a thick, off-white genuine Irish fisherman's sweater.

A wide assortment of Celtic merchandise is offered for sale--dulcimers, weapons of Scotland, paperweights, mugs and plates with clan crests, thimbles, jewelry, books and military prints, to name a few.

But the reason we've come is the music.

The star of the show is the bagpipe. One of history's oldest musical instruments, it is found in Babylonian carvings from before 1000 BC, and mentioned in the Old Testament. Its eerie whine, produced by Scottish regiments as far back as the l6th Century, has been credited with frightening many an enemy.

On this grand day of festivity, the pipe bands will be in competition, not combat. The glory of the costumes, the precision of the marchers and the fervor of the crowd contribute to the pageantry, but it's the sounds--the awesome, fearful bagpipe sounds--that stir the soul.

For maximum excitement, don't miss the Gathering of the Clans. At approximately noon on both days, more than a dozen world-class pipe bands assemble before the grandstand for a brief welcoming ceremony, after which the pipers, joined by a few non-pipe bands, march out in review.

Later, to settle the spirit and soothe the soul, look for the tent of Scottish recording artist Alex Beaton, who will also be at this year's festival. He will bring a tear drap tae yere e'e if ye've that wee drappie o' Scots blood when he sings songs of ancient balladry (some a bit bawdy).

Los Angeles Times Articles