TGOC2018, Day 10, Bridies

In which we meet Rowan

Firstly, missed from yesterday’s entry:

Cuckoo count: 1 (yes, just one) – VERY poor

Other wildlife: Not much at all really. No wild Challengers - although we met two very civilised Challenge virgins.

So, on with Day 10….

I surfaced around 7am with a mouth like a well-used flip-flop.

My tongue felt like a breeding ground for cactii. Copious quantities of coffee helped disguise the ghastly taste in my mouth. Heaven knows what that was all about – it’s not as if I’d been drinking alcohol.*

Oliver & Jo (you don’t mind me calling you ‘Jo’ do you Joanna?) had been up for a while and were well on with packing. They needed an early start because they were due to hit the East coast on Wednesday….plus they probably didn’t relish another day walking with a couple of strange blokes in kilts. Understandable really.

Off they went, via Kirkmichael, which just happened to be where we were initially aiming for.

A man in a kilt – in deep thought. The man, not the kilt.

It was only few miles to Kirkmichael, but what a pleasant little walk it was. We only got lost a little bit – probably because we were just enjoying the pleasing scenery. Or maybe it was because we were gabbing too much and forgot to look at the map.

Kirkmichael’s Kirk…closed and up for sale

The Village Pump

Whatever, we arrived at Kirkmichael’s Village Shop, purveyors of fine bridies, pots of tea and nice chocolate cake. Oh, and cheap whisky for Mike. So rather unsurprisingly we ate bridies, drank tea, ate chocolate cake (not Mike ‘cos he’s not allowed, so I had his) whilst I explored the contents of the food parcel the shop was holding for me. I was more than a bit relieved to find that I’d packed my maps – at least I’d know where we were going for the next few days.

Anyroadup, if you ever go through Kirkmichael you can do much worse than calling into the shop. The staff are lovely, they sell cheap whisky, chocolate cake…and they’ll hold a food parcel for you. Norralot not to like really.

Heaving our rather heavier packs onto our backs we nearly jumped out of our skins when a campervan, piloted by none other than our Toby, blasted it’s horn, left about 6” of rubber on the road and swerved onto the shop’s forecourt – scattering young children who’d been playing innocent young children-type games – like pulling legs off spiders, teasing dogs and taking the mickey out of kilt-clad Challengers.

Toby was ably assisted by co-pilot and chief navigator Vicky (who I suspect is responsible for ensuring everything goes to plan) and flight engineer and lovely smile-generator Rowan.

What a lovely surprise that was! This was the first time I’d met Rowan, a delightful little boy, a trainee Challenger in fact, and I’d not seen Toby & Vicky since the TGOC a couple or three years ago. They’re lovely people and the Challenge is the poorer for their absence.

Bidding our farewells, they headed north whilst we continued in a sort of easterly direction. Mostly.

After some interesting navigational decisions we passed by Ashintully Castle’s ‘Keep Out’, ‘Private – we don’t want your sort here’, ‘Go Away’ and ‘Welcome to Scotland’ signs.

It’s nice to feel wanted.

We walked through some very pleasant countryside to camp at Coire a ‘Bhaile (NO115627), a nice spot that was almost flat and had a nice stream running close-by.

Tea was an experiment: I’d found a nice recipe for Lentil Soup on an American cookery website I subscribe to. The soup was delicious, but being American, the recipe made LOADS. I ate loads of the soup, froze loads and dehydrated the rest. Tea tonight was that soup. The good news was that the experimental meal was successful. It was tasty, nutritious and very easy to dehydrate & rehydrate. The recipe now resides in my little red ‘Backpacking Meals’ recipe book.

It mizzled a bit during the evening so I stayed put in my tent to write up this diary, listen to Mike slurp his Kirkmichael Single Malt blend (Bells) and subsequently drift off into an alcohol-induced snory sleep.

I drank camomile tea.

The day’s sunshine (and there wasn’t THAT much) had charged my solar charger, the charge level had gone up from 3 LEDs to it’s maximum of 5 LEDs – it must be doing SOMETHING right.

Cuckoos Count: 2 (better)

Wildlife: Nothing of any note today. No wild Challengers either – although we did meet the very civilised Jo & Oliver who we’d camped with the previous night.

*I’d eaten a Mars Bar (=loads of sugar) before bed the previous night – maybe that contributed to having a mouth like a lavatory pan.

TGOC2018, Day 9…A Bacon Butty Start

In which Chef Pieman excelled

At 7.30am a bacon barm was thrust (a good word that, ‘thrust’…I must use it again) into my tent as I was slurping my second caffeine shot of the day. Mike had been busy cleaning the camps site’s communal frying pan and using his culinary expertise to maximum effect. I thrust the bacon barm down my neck, washiung it down with what was left of my mug of coffee. Thanks Mike – it was good, and a pleasant change from my usual muesli.

The sun was shining brightly and the laundry I’d left out all night was virtually dry - my white undies were now only slightly grey.

We left the campsite, continuing east along the disused railway line that coincided with the Rob Roy Way and then along a very quiet lanes for a couple of miles.

A seriously BIG hare bounced away across the road and into this freshly ploughed fields as we approached.

Came across a farmer from the North Riding of Yorkshire who was moving his cattle around. We stopped to chat – what a sad story he had to tell: during WW2 his house had been destroyed by a crashing aircraft – one of ours. His parents and his brother had been killed in the accident. He described his life as being ruined. I can’t imagine how such a young lad would have coped with that loss. The widow of the pilot had offered to adopt the orphan – she must have felt distraught too.

On to happier stuff…

Yet another bridge over the River Tay

Stopped for a quick chat with the couple doing the Rob Roy Way, they were finishing in Pitlochry later that day. They’d wild camped before us the previous night.

Into Ballinnluig and the very excellent Red Brolly Inn: Sausage, eggs, chips & beans plus a pot of tea: £7.90. Lovely staff too, You should go.

Ballinluig’s petrol station type shop. I don’t think this petrol pump works these days.

Left the town and headed in the general direction of Kirkmichael where I had a parcel of goodies waiting for me. Came across a couple of young Challenge virgins, Joanna and Oliver. They were having a blast and were both determined to return to the Challenge in 2019, maybe dragging their fathers along with them.

Joanna and Oliver walked with us and we camped together by Lochan Oisinneach Mor at NO029552.

Joanna & Oliver…you might need to look carefully!

Lochan Oisinneach Mor at NO029552

I was interested to see the solar chargers that Joanna and Oliver were carrying. Oliver’s was quite a large affair that charged a device directly – ie it didn’t rely on charging it’s own internal Lithium Ion battery so would only charge a device in when exposed to light. Joanna’s was a 2 panel Power Monkey charger, very similiar in size to my rather cheaper charger.

Both declared that they were pleased with their chargers. Interestingly, although Joanna’s Power Monkey had it’s own internal battery, she kept it connected to her phone whilst walking along – that’s something I’ll try with mine….when it’s not raining of course!

DofE Ignorance

Whilst pitched up we were passed by two separate DofE parties. Although they were separate it looked like they were from the same group – their kit was very similar.

Perhaps part of the DofE training should include developing social skills in the hills. Neither party acknowledged our presence, in fact they ignored our existence completely in spite of us waving and shouting ‘hellos’….even though they passed us so closely that they really couldn’t have missed us.

Perhaps is ignoring fellow walkers & backpackers is included in the syllabus.

Anyway…

The breeze over Lochan Oisinneach Mor was chilly. Even so I was all horribly sticky and smelly so I indulged myself: a top-to-toe wash down in my tent got rid of the old JJ and replaced him with a fragrant and not at all sticky JJ. Nice….well I thought so.

By 6.30pm the cloud had thickened and the wind had changed direction so I stayed put in my tent, feasted on home-made and home dehydrated lamb casserole (seriously yummy), drank camomile tea and listened to BBC R4….that damned wedding.

I wandered up the hill to get a 4G signal to check the weather, view some online porn (solar chargers!), and to attempt to make a phone call or two.

All was quite well in my Challenge world.

TGOC2018, Day 7. Timeshift

In which we may have encountered a wormhole

A wormhole is a theoretical passage through space-time that could create shortcuts for long journeys across the universe. Wormholes are predicted by the theory of general relativity. But be wary: wormholes bring with them the dangers of sudden collapse, high radiation and dangerous contact with exotic matter.

Sunrise over Loch Rannoch

Awake at stupid o’clock (again) and so a bit more early morning photography whilst slurping on my first caffeine shot of the day.

Drift back off to sleep and eventually got up properly at 7.30am, away at 9.30am. T’other JJ had set off earlier, he hadn’t being firing on all four so he wanted to get a head start.

Looking west over Loch Rannoch

First stop of the day was Kinloch Rannoch, 10km east, where there was a shop. Arrived to find t’other JJ getting ready to leave. He’d decided to change his route and to follow roads to the coast to try to shorten his journey. He headed off towards the fleshpots of Tummel Bridge.

The shop had a coffee machine, sold all manner of unhealthy things to eat and had a bench seat outside. so we drank tea (or coffee) and sat on the bench in the sunshine whilst eating all manner of unhealthy things.

All was well until there was a wobble in the the space-time continuum…or maybe it was just a normal day in KR.

A terribly smart, freshly laundered and camera-shy John Arlington from Washington in USA rolled up. He’d started in Acharacle and was headed towards Lunan Bay.

We also met another Kilchoan starter in the shop: Paul Southward. He was heading to St Cyrus. He looked to be doing a similar route to us although we didn’t see him again.

Our route for the rest of the day was one I’d done before, not on the Challenge, but when I walked out to meet members of East Lancs LDWA as they took part in the Scottish 100 mile (in 48 hours) challenge walk. This always takes place over the second May Bank Holiday. I’d walked over to Kinloch Rannoch, where the breakfast stop was, and then walked back for 20 or so miles. I remember it as being a nice bit of their route.

The day’s kilt admiration came from two Dutch ladies. They were on a walking holiday and were finishing in KR.

Glenmore Bothy

We wandered over by Schiehallion and down by Pheiginn Bothy which had been one of the LDWA100 checkpoints. I’d have liked to camp there but there was no water for quite a distance.

Pheiginn Bothy’s Mrs Mopp

We eventually spotted a lovely flat(ish) bit of ground at NN750507 with a stream running through it. It was getting on for 8pm and we’d walked quite far enough thank you very much. 15 minutes later our tents were up and tea was on the go.

A curious deer came to visit during the evening but it soon bounded off. We were probably camped by it’s usual watering hole.

My diary says that we’d had very good weather that day and that the kilt had performed well. Sounds about right.

Lights-out at 10.30pm – rather late, but there you go.

Cuckoo count: 4

Other wildlife: two deer + plus a couple of Challengers who weren’t very wild at all.

TGOC2018, Day 6: Lunch in the sun

In which we frighten the ladies

I slept badly. This wasn’t down to grunting, farting or snoring (well there wasn’t THAT much snoring), it was just another of those nights that my brain had engaged hyper-drive.

I made a cuppa around 4am and stuck my head out of the tent to see what was going on.

Nothing. Nowt. Nada.

It hadn’t got fully dark all night and now, approaching dawn (hello Dawn!), the snowy peaks SW of us were standing out quite dramatically. I photographed the scene but I’m no expert – see yesterday’s post for the photo. I was using my Lumix TZ70 Compact (a fine little camera, but at the end of the day it’s just a compact), plus the camera on my Samsung S5. In spite of these limitations I was quite pleased with the results.

Up and about fairly late, around 7.30am. Mike had reported that our tents were icy earlier – he’d been forced to leave the warmth of his pit for a …..well, you know.

View from my tent at 7.45am

Fab views all around this morning: bright sunshine illuminated the hills all around.

T’other JJ spotted a big bird, he reckoned it might have been an eagle.

Whatever it was, it whizzed over far too quickly for me to even grab my camera, let alone photograph it.

Much poorly–ness in camp this morning. Mike was slightly under the weather and t’other JJ wasn’t feeling too good either.

Up and away around 9.30am, it was cool and fresh but rapidly warming up.

Rannoch Moor

This wasn’t the most exciting day, most of it was mainly either on LRT or very minor road with just a titchy bit of forestry track where we didn’t get very lost at all. It was all easy going though.

Lizard

Curious deer

The major stop of the day was the very excellent Rannoch Station Tea Room, situated rather conveniently at, er, Rannoch Station.

Approaching Rannoch Station

Much tea was supped, toasties guzzled, and wonderful soup slurped. This worked wonders – it gave us all a damned good kick in the pants. Or kilts.

The sun was shining very hotly. Ladies on the adjacent table, possibly quite frightened by the appearance of naked knees (the ladies were frightened, not the table), were struggling to concentrate on their lunches…nowt to do with me, I was well dressed under my kilt. I couldn’t possibly comment on the state of Mike’s undress, you’ll need to ask him.

It must have been the heat.

It was 3pm by the time we left the tea-rooms, we thought we’d best move on before we got moved on. You can only ask for a finite number of tea-pot top-ups with hot water before suspicion is aroused.

We were now on a wiggly tarmac minor road. the B846. The planned destination for the day was the Forestry Commision Campsite at Carie on the south shore of Loch Rannoch.

Unidentified wildlife (Fossilised Giant Haggis?)

In search of a suitable pitch

The campsite was shut* although as it happened it didn’t matter. We didn’t get there that evening, we were just too knackered to walk the last 5km of road. Instead we found a slightly lumpy patch of ground on the loch shore at NN569566 and we pitched there.

* Although the site at Carie was shut (closed-down by the look of things), another Forestry Commision Campsite had opened a little further down the road, towards Kinloch Rannoch.

I enjoyed a brill tea of home-made and home-dehydrated pasta bolognese + a dollop of olive oil followed by a couple of Eccles cakes for pudding. Eccles cakes really are quite excellent – especially when they’ve been crushed inside your pack. For a true Cordon-Bleu experience they should be submerged under a topping of instant custard….but not tonight. Only because I wasn’t carrying any.

Chorley Cakes, BTW, simply won’t do. They’re a completely different animal. Obv.

By 9.15pm (as I was writing my diary up) it had got very cold so I was snuggled in my sleeping bag, supping a mug of camomile tea.

Sunset over Loch Rannoch

I left my tent door open until quite late, watching the light fade over the loch. It was all quite romantic really.

Cuckoo count: 7 (much better)

Other wild animals: Two red squirrels, numerous lizards, various deer, and a suspected eagle - there were other birds too but I didn’t count them.

No wild Challengers though.

TGO Challenge 2018, the story so far…

In which my knees terrify some WHW walkers…

Up at 6.30am, away before 8am…after washing some of my smellier smellies. The sun, even at this time, shone hotly – my soggy laundry would dry fairly quickly in this heat.

Towards Lundavra

Water tap by Lundavra – no water though

The day’s route was very straight-forward and *mostly* easy underfoot: north by Lundavra, then following the West Highland Way, south and east, to Kinlochleven.

Lots of walkers encountered – all going the other way (to Fort Bill, the end of the WHW). Many took delight in telling me I was going the wrong way (this is not news to me, I usually go the wrong way), others wanted to know whether I was doing the WHW in the ‘other’ direction – North to South.

I think the WHW must be marketed quite heavily overseas, a very substantial proportion of walkers were from overseas: many Americans, a large Japanes party and and goodly number of Dutch and Germans. The Way must provide an important source of revenue for businesses on the route.

Walking in a kilt

American ladies swooned. Japanese photographers clicked away, English walkers blushed, German walkers politely averted their gaze….

I had to pose for so many photographs that day that it added a good hour to my walk – great fun though!

My Sports Kilt was generating a lot of interest. In all seriousness, this is the best of walking kit I’ve bought in a long while. It’s extremely comfortable, lightweight and very practical. At 330gms it’s not exactly heavy and because it’s made from microfibre it dries very quickly.

It helped that the weather was so good of course, but even in moderate rain it did it’s stuff well.

The risk of ticks was uppermost in my mind when I was walking through undergrowth. I’d treated my kilt (and my undies) with Permethrin before setting out and this gave me some peace of mind. There was only one day where I didn’t wear the kilt all day, that was my Day 3 through Glen Gour where it just *looked* like good tick-breeding ground. As it happened I didn’t encounter one tick on my entire crossing.

Sports Kilt is an American company, I ordered mine (and Mike’s) whilst I was in USA earlier in the year – perhaps a Scottish manufacturer could take up the reigns and produce them over here.

Back to the walk…

I’ve walked the WHW a couple of times, always South to North, going the other way transorms it into a completely different walk – no better or worse, just different.

The route was mostly but not always easy underfoot, some of the path was covered in loose rocks and stones which slowed my progress from time-to-time. The absolute worst bit was the final steep-ish descent to Kinlochleven – I nearly ended up on my bum a couple of times.

I’d booked into the campsite at the back of the MacDonald Hotel, it was very quiet when I arrived, but within a couple of hours it was rammed. It’s a reasonable commercial site, £10 a night and good facilities – the ground was stony under a couple of inches of grassy soil though.

The Kilted Pieman was refused permission to camp, apparently the site was full – although he could have squeezed on quite easily.

The hotel served decent food and very excellent beer (Cairngorm Trade Winds). I’d hardly eaten all day so I ordered a decent lunch but I struggled to finish it.

I’d sent a food parcel to the hotel, it *should* have contained maps for the next section of my walk….but it didn’t. What the hell happened there then? I had my route description with me of course, I also had my Garmin Etrex20 so I had a fall back, it wasn’t ideal though. (I since found the maps….at home, in a box. A different box.)

A couple of other Challengers appeared, notably John Jacklin and Scott – good blokes, the pair of them.

Mike ended up camping at the Blackwater campsite, we met up for nosh and beer at the Tail Race, decent food but no proper beer – just fizz.

Mike’s route wasn’t too dissimilar to mine so we decided to team up for a few days (he had his maps!), certainly until my next food parcel which would hopefully contain some maps.

In bed by 11pm, nicely relaxed and ready for a good night’s kip. It wasn’t to be though, noise from adjacent tents and the camping pods kept me awake until the early hours…then it was coming light at 4.30am. Ho hum. 

Cuckoo count 4

Other wildlife encountered: Norralot, not even any Challengers on the route.

Photos from my entire TGOC2018 are here

TGO Challenge 2018, Day 3

In which I fend-off killer-ticks. Probably.

I was awake quite early but chose to stay put in the hope that the light rain might stop and the sun make an appearance long enough to dry my tent out before packing.

The noise of Challengers passing our peaceful pitch promised a fairly quiet day ahead – just what I wanted.

Su was away by 8.30am, I followed around 9am. It was still raining lightly but ! didn’t want to delay my departure by too long.

This was the only day I didn’t wear my Sports Kilt, my route to Ardgour was very wet underfoot and the undergrowth looked like Tick Heaven – long (Permethrin treated) trousers were the order of the day.

The watershed

Navigation was straightforward, follow the river to the watershed the follow the River Gour down to Sallachan. 

The spot I’d earmarked for elevenses was too waterlogged so my next meal was onses – lunch at 1pm, next to a lovely waterfall, surrounded by spectacular scenery. The sun was shining brightly, it was quite hot – so my Akto was treated to a bit of an airing.

Lunchtime: brew with a view. There were fish in the river.

Lynsey rolled up, looking freshly laundered and well-pressed (how does she do it?). She’d intended going up Ben Resipol but a tumble that bruised her shoulder changed her mind for her. She continued to Ardgour, leaving me to soak up the rays and read the rest of the previous Thursday’s ‘I’ newspaper. It would have been the Guardian but it was too heavy to carry.

Signs of volcanic activity?

The ground was difficult, with man-eating swamps and ticks the size of bluebottles. I may have exaggerated slightly there. But they were probably quite enormous. Although I didn’t ACTUALLY see one. A friend probably did though.

I was aiming to pick up the LRT marked on the map – hoping for better ground. The ground was just as bad, slow going with lots of deeply flooded sections and loose stones & rocks. Time was passing slowly.

Lighthouse at Corran

Eventually made Argour. I had a phone signal so I phoned Control and had a good chat with Pauline. and Bernie. It seems news of my Sports Kilt had reached the megaphone of CBS (Challenge Broadcasting System).

Scott, Lynsey & John J (not me, the other one)

I stopped to chat to Lynsey, John Jacklin and Scott who were sat outside their digs, the Ardgour Inn, drinking dirty beer and waiting for their tea to arrive.

The Corran Ferry, across the road from the pub

The Corran Ferry (free for foot passengers) was in the slip so I boarded and was soon on t’other side.

Over the sea from Corran

I met up with a (slightly) elderly couple from South Africa, they were farmers there and wanted to sell-up but various restrictions meant they couldn’t and so they were stuffed. They were very keen to hear all about the Challenge. I gave them chapter and verse in the hope of tea and cake….but to no avail.

Must try harder….

I don’t know, I really don’t know

I trundled on, avoiding the pub, aiming towards Lundavra. A lovely flat spot (NN053630) next to a river presented itself at around 8pm so that became my home for the night.

I neglected to photograph my tent in situ that evening, but this is what the area looked like after I’d packed up the following morning. Nice eh?

I had a good wash down before bed and slept very well indeed.

Cuckoo count: 5

Other wildlife I clapped my eyes on: Newts, frogs, fish (trout?), deer and loads of different birdies. Oh, and 4 Challengers. But they were really quite tame.

Photos from my entire TGOC2018 are here