TGO Challenge 2024, the warm-up bit

 

TGOC2024….preceded by the top bit of the WHW

Thursday 2^nd May

I hopped on the train at Manchester to be deposited a few hours later at Glasgow Central where I’d arranged to meet Croydon from, er, Croydon, and my running buddy, Paul from Warrington.

Manchester Piccadilly at ridiculous o'clock in the morning

We had this Cunning Plan y’see, we’d backpack the top half of the West Highland Way from Tyndrum to Fort Bill, then Paul would go home whilst Croydon, aka Mick, and I would travel to Oban to start our respective TGO Challenges.

And so we did.

In Tyndrum we pitched at the very nice By The Way campsite. Croydon and I did this last year too, lovely staff, excellent location, and a couple of pubs in ‘town’….where we had our tea.

Upper Tyndrum

Tyndrum by evening

Friday 3^rd May

At 8am we promptly set off at about 9.30am to head north for tea and buns at the Bridge of Orchy Hotel, although the very expensive Green Welly Stop delayed us. Slightly.

The lady in the shop around the corner (far less expensive the the Green Welly Stop) adjacent to the WHW cheerfully announced that the midges had hatched and they were out. Nice.

Bridge of Orchy....somewhere

L>R: Paul, Croydon, me

I'm smiling. Honest.

There were plenty of West Highland Way walkers out, most appeared to be using B&B accomodation along with baggage carrying service….not like us rufty tufty Challengers. By the time we arrived at the Bridge of Orchy Hotel the outside tables were nearly all taken. We managed to squeeze our slightly overweight bodies, and hugely overweight rucksacks around a small table.

We drank tea.

The climb up Mam Carraigh was a bit of a shock to the system, but the lovely view over Loch Tulla made the blood, sweat, tears, and curses all worthwhile. Then it was a pleasant descent to our planned pitch for the night at Victoria Bridge. Fed and watered, we scooted off to the Inveroran for a swift one before hitting the sack.

Rehydration at the Inveroran

Saturday 4^th May

We were away promptly only a bit late in setting off, heading north and generally uphill. The trail was busy with loads of WHW walkers, all heading to either the Glencoe Resort or the Kingshouse Hotel – we were heading to the latter, camping around the back of the hotel.

Squint, and you'll see Black Corries Lodge. Maybe.

It was a cloudy day, although certainly not cold. Passing Ba Bridge we spotted a number of tents pitched by the river – I need to remember that spot for the future.

After a couple of miles of climbing (which seemed to go on forever) Black Corries Cottage came into view, and a short time later we spotted our destination, Kingshouse.

As expected, the ‘campsite’ was busy, but we eventually found spaces for our tents. A couple of beers in the hotel’s public bar ensured we were adequately rehydrated.

Sunday 5^th May

The day dawned (it’s what days do) slightly gloomily cloudly.

I wasn’t feeling my best, grateful for the public shower and toilet by the hotel’s bunkhouse.

I’d forgotten how much of a climb (not THAT much!) was involved in getting to the foot of the Devil’s Staircase, but it had to be done.

The tug up the staircase was, well, a tug. The tops around were clad in cloud – there wasn’t a view from the top. Whilst the ascent was hard work, the long descent into Kinlochleven was even harder – every time we thought we’d hit the bottom, a false bottom appeared (false bottom = opposite of a false top. Obv.)

We eventually arrived at the campsite and presented ourselves at reception, but we were told that the only way we could book in was by going online! But we’re here, now – we have money….why can’t we just book in? Paul, gifted in diplomacy, eventually negotiated an acceptable solution, and we pitched up.

It’s a strange way to run a campsite.

I was still a bit off-colour, but not sufficiently bad so as not to need a meal….so we trundled off to the Tail Race for pie, chips…and a beer.

A bivvying West Highland Wayer

Monday 6^th May

I was now more monochrome than off-colour, once again grateful for decent campsite facilites. I gave breakfast a miss, telling Paul and Mick to set off without me, I’d follow at my own slow pace.

The pull out of Kinlochleven was hard work, I managed to drink plenty of water – it was a warm morning and I didn’t want to risk dehydration. Once it levelled out, the route was a delightful as ever. The sun shone, the birds sang, all was well….apart from my complaining body. I stopped at the ruin for a rest, and promptly fell asleep.

The deteriorating remnants of the rusting car at Tigh-na-sleubhaich

A Mars bar, a load of water, and a couple of hours later I shouldered my pack and continued, slowly, on my way.

Paul and Mick had found a lovely spot to camp, enough room for 3 three tents, and a water source not too far away. I put my tent up, made myself a cuppa, and promptly flaked out. I woke at 10pm, a mug of cold tea beside me. I glugged it down and promptly went back to sleep.

Tuesday 7^th May

No breakfast for me, although I managed to drink lots of tea, coffee and water, plus a Snickers Bar later in the morning.

A cuckoo was doing what cuckoos do: calling ‘cuckoo’ – it’s a cuckoo thing. We spotted the offending bird, perched on a pole. I grabbed my camera before it flitted off, but the results weren’t impressive.

It was about 9 miles to Fort Bill, generally downhill, but with some rather sharp uphill bits thrown in to keep us on our toes. The track, as with much of the WHW on this trip, was strewn with freshly laid stones. The made walking a tad uncomfortable at times, I was glad I was wearing boots.

I took up my rightful position at the back, and off we went. The walk into Fort Bill was uneventful, it just seemed to go on forever.

Paul had managed to secure a 3 bedded family room in a hotel on the high street, freshly laundered and smelling rather better, we hit the town. Well, we hit Wetherspoons. Their Lime & Soda hit the spot – I wasn’t trusting my innards to a beer.

Wednesday 8^th May

A repeat visit to Wetherspoons, not for anything more exciting than coffee and a light breakfast.

Paul headed for home, it was a shame we couldn’t convince him to join us on the Challenge – next year maybe?

Mick and I hopped on the bus to Oban, our Challenge sign-out point. I was still quite wobbly, so much so that I wasn’t convinced I’d be able to make it as far as the East coast.

 

TGO Challenge 2023 Warm-up 4th May 2023

Top half of the West Highland Way:

The Plan, as in recent years, was to backpack from either Crianlarich or Tyndrum, to Fort William on the West Highland Way.

And so it came to pass.

Mick Hopkins, aka Croydon (don’t ask him what his dad does for a living), was joining me on this little trip – we both felt we needed a shake-down / warm-up before the rather longer trip, the TGO Challenge. I’m not sure about Croydon, but I was horribly unfit and therefore really needed to spend a few days in the hills, carrying a pack, before the Challenge.

I was very pleasantly surprised to find backpacking & morris-dancing friend Mike Salter on the same train to Glasgow – he was headed out on a bothy-checking trip.

At Glasgow Central we went our separate ways, Mike to find his train to Brigadoon or wherever, me to Glasgow Queen Street to meet up with Croydon.

Our train left Queen Street about 12.20pm, the two hour journey to Tyndrum gave us plenty of time to catch up – and catch up we did.

We camped at the By The Way campsite in Tyndrum -  nice and friendly site. Other WHW backpackers were overnighting there too.

This was to be the first night using my new-to-me tent, a TarpTent Notch. I’d played around with it in my garden, but I’d never actually camped in it.

We eventually decided on a pub nosh in the Tyndrum Inn, we’d both learned to take full advantage of being able to eat decent food whilst sat at a table, and using knives and forks. Sporks just don’t cut it.

Next morning we were fed, packed, and were away, plodding northwards, in the direction of the Green Welly Stop and beyond….well beyond actually.

The weather didn’t look promising, it wasn’t bad, but we put on full waterproofs.

At the Bridge of Orchy Hotel we stopped for a much needed and most welcome pot of tea.

                           

Mick soon found a new friend

It was a bit of a tug uphill from Bridge of Orchy, but the view from Mam Carraigh over Loch Tulla made it all worthwhile. 

Brigadoon?

The threat of rain had receded, in fact the sun came out of hiding and it got rather warm – warm enough to shed a couple of layers.

We pitched by Inveroran / Victoria Bridge – judging by the number of tents the WHW was busy….a rather large group of Taiwanese were walking the route, although they weren’t camping.

Next day we headed to Glencoe. A stop at Ba Bridge gave us the chance to fill up with water….and grab a snack, ie a Snickers bar.

The WHY followed a really good track, it was impossible to get lost….even for an incompetent like me.

Glencoe Mountain Resort was chosen as our ‘sit at a table’ meal stop. To say it was a disappointment was an understatement: the welcome wasn’t at all welcoming, the tables were dirty, portion sizes were small – we genuinely thought we’d been served children’s portions. A note of positivity: I managed a top-to-toe wash down in the resort’s wash rooms….hot water too!

Glencoe Mountain Resort

Camping around the back of the Kingshouse Hotel

Less than a couple of miles further, we arrived at Kingshouse: chalk and cheese!, their lovely staff made all the difference!

The usual camping area was full, the only spots we could find weren’t at all suitable: firepits, lumpy….or smelly – a horrible pong of cannabis being smoked by those camping amongst the trees.

We ended up camping around the back of the hotel – away from the horrible smell. We didn’t want to take water from the river – the bar staff very obligingly filled my 2 litre platy with a cheerful smile…..well they filled it with water, but you what I mean!

I was carrying enough home-dehydrated meals with me so my hunger was satisfied with a lovely korma curry….preceded by a cupasoup. Obv.

A beer (maybe two) in the bar hit the spot – a restful night’s sleep followed. Maybe aided by the beer?

We were up and away by 9.30am, the weather was lovely – sunshine, and just the right temperature for walking. We joined the throng of walkers heading for The Devil’s Staircase.

                             

I was last here almost exactly a year ago, again I was using the route as a warm-up for the TGO Challenge. It was a difficult decision: whether to go on not. John, my best buddy of 50 years, was terminally ill, although the docs suggested he had months to go

Anyway, I decided to go. This road bridge on the A82 always brings John to mind, it was in the early 1970s that I first met John as we rode from Sale, Cheshire, to Kilchoan on the Ardnamurchan peninsula, to attend the Antler Rally, a camping weekend for motorcyclists. Although we lived just a mile from each other, we’d never met until that weekend.

                             The McNeill Bridge.

Anyway,we rode through Glencoe around 2am on the Saturday morning, John on his Honda 500-4, me on my MZ250. The sight of that bridge was one I’ll never forget, in my mind that bridge has been renamed in his memory: The McNeill Bridge.

We passed, and were passed by, the same familar faces as we ascended The Devil’s Staircase. We took plenty of stops to, er, ‘enjoy the views’….to be fair, the views were rather lovely.

Rather than wild camp on the other side of Kinlochleven which would involve a climb out of town, we opted to camp at the Blackwater site, this proved to be a good choice. Nice showers, a kettle, real toilets: almost everything a chap needs.

A good dinner was provided by the very friendly Tail Race Inn – this eating at a table malarkey could catch on!

We met Linda and Molly, Mum & daughter – Mum had driven up to meet Linda, who was backpacking the route. Quite an inspirational pair, they’d not long since backpacked the South West Coast Path together.

Poor Molly had been on the receiving end of an assault by a squadron of ticks. She’d managed to shift most of them, but a couple had got a grip – my tick removal tool was put to good use. 

L > R: Linda, Molly, and Mick

Our final stage to Fort William involves a sharp tug out of town – it involved lots of, er, ‘photo-opportunity’ stops.

The track was good, the weather not quite so good, although it remained fairly dry…..apart from when it didn’t.

This last day into Fort Bill always seems an inordinately long one. Although it’s only around 15 miles, the last 4-5 miles just seem to go on forever – just when you think the end is nigh, another hillock presents itself….then there’s the long descent that can best be described as a motorway.

Anyroadup, we girded our loins and braced ourselves as we faced the challenge head on ….after all, we’re rufty-tufty challengers, a mere 15 miles is no problem for the likes of us <koff>.

The motorway into Fort Bill.

Glen Nevis SYHA

We booked ourselves into Glen Nevis SYHA, we were both more than a bit ready for a shower, a comfortable bed…..and a nice pub meal.

The hostel was good and very welcoming, I’d stayed there in the past. We made full use of the pub just up the road – a beer or two and a nice nosh both hit the spot.

Next morning we hopped on the bus into Fort Bill for a big breakfast in Wetherspoon’s, then I headed of to catch the bus to Oban, my (Thursday) start point for the TGO Challenge. Mick stayed another night, he was starting on Friday from Mallaig – along with Tracy –aka Baby Croydon. Her Dad’s a football referee.

 

The End! 

A cracking few days away, thanks to Mick for his good company, laughing at my jokes, and not complaining when I couldn’t keep up with him.

We’ll have to do it again next year!

PS: This is Tickless Molly at her finish: