Monday 3 June 2019
Long day of travel - with a hangover - yesterday. Train from Edinburgh to Glasgow (which was late of course), then a long ride on the Citylink bus from Glasgow up to Uig with a stop in Fort William. The weather north of Glasgow was terrible - rain so thick and heavy I couldn't see the far side of Loch Lomond. I feel for the people who are doing that part of the West Highland Way this week. But the weather gradually got better the further north we went, and by the time we got to Skye the sun was out. This was my first visit to Skye since February 2012, and I had forgotten just how breathtaking it is, especially in good weather.
Then I got the Calmac ferry from Uig to Lochmaddy. I slept through a good portion of it, the excesses of the night before catching up with me a bit. My hotel is within sight of the ferry terminal, so I didn't have far to go after landing.
The wind woke me up this morning. The sky is variably cloudy with occasional rain, and it is blowing a gale. Any thoughts I may have had of trying to go up a hill today were quickly binned, because if the wind is almost strong enough to blow me off my feet down here at sea level, then it's going to be even worse at altitude. And I would really like to not get blown off a hill today!
I'm in the cafe at Taigh Chearsabhagh, which is a museum/cafe/post office/gift shop across the road from my hotel in Lochmaddy. The museum is a bit small - just one big room - but it's got an interesting geological exhibit on just now. The shop is selling some neat stuff, but I've still got another week of carrying my full-loaded rucksack around and I'm reluctant to buy anything heavy.
I'm planning to get a bus to Grimsay this afternoon. There are at least three bus stops around Lochmaddy, but only one with the schedule posted. I'm going to go to the one near the ferry pier around 4pm and hope for the best.
There are hills which look like they should be accessible on foot from Lochmaddy. However, North Uist is more water than land, which makes navigation complicated. This is in fact the main reason why I'm taking public transport to Grimsay today, instead of walking. I'm looking forward to the next few days as an exercise in route-finding but I think I'd be a bit out of my depth today.
***
Tuesday 4 June 2019
Baymore to Nunton: "Good luck, kid."
Distance: 10ish? miles
Start: 11:15am
Finish: 6:00pm
Weather: Partly cloudy and cool
I had a very pleasant evening on Grimsay last night. Toward dusk I walked from my Airbnb in Baymore to the harbor in Kallin to see what I could see. Grimsay's main industry is fishing, and nowhere was this more apparent than at the harbor - boats and live-storage units everywhere. Turning for home, I managed to get on the southerly loop of the road that circles Grimsay, rather than the northerly one, and didn't realize it for a long while since all my major landmarks - the sun, the water, and Eaval over on North Uist - were correct. I later learned that if I had kept going I would have eventually made it back to Baymore, but as it was I doubled back to the harbor and started over.
I made it back with plenty of light left (since the sun doesn't set until after 10pm at the moment) and got my hostess to light the peat burner in my room - very cozy. I stayed up for a long time, enjoying the peat-warmed ambience and reading.
I was up at 8:30 this morning and out the door at 9am. The harbor at Kallin is in the opposite direction from the Hebridean Way, but I wanted to visit the cafe I'd seen there last night. I got a scallop and black pudding roll. It was GREAT. Sutiably fueled, I walked west, back through Baymore a final time, to join the A-road which doubles as the Hebridean Way across Grimsay. With the time spent in the cafe and the three and a half mile walk across Grimsay, it was 11:15am by the time I reached the A-road.
I followed the A865 over Grimsay and a few minor islands to Benbecula. I walked into the village of Gramsdal and turned right onto a track where I saw a sign for Kyles Flodda, as well as my first waymarker of the day, hiding behind it. I followed the track for a short distance and then turned right at another waymarker, toward Ruabhal.
The little Hebridean Way sign says "Rueval, 1.4 miles." It would do better to say "Rueval, that way (good luck, kid)." The approach to Ruabhal from the north is an absolute bogfest. There are posts across the bog, but I spent most of the traverse trying to puzzle out the rationale for their placement. Perhaps this was the driest course through the marsh when the Hebridean Way opened two years ago? If it was, it is no longer. Furthermore, conditions on the ground did not match the map. The map in the Cicerone book shows the path up Ruabhal from the north as a straight line, when it's really more of an arc with some zigzags thrown in. Unpleasant flashbacks to the Speyside Way.
I gingerly picked my way across the bog, hyperaware that rescue was unlikely if I went over on my ankle or fell in, since I had yet to see any other walkers and no cyclists would be coming this way. In due course I reached the far side of the bog and made it up the hill. One thing to be said for this approach is that the ascent is mostly pretty gentle. I was at the summit trig point in good time, and the weather congratulated me with a brief rain shower.
I sat by the trig point to eat a Snickers, drink some water, and scrutinize the map. As I did so, I finally saw my first other walkers of the day: a party of five, walking the Hebridean Way northbound. I wished them good fortune crossing the bog and started on the very clear path descending southwest off the hill. I hit the road at the bottom and struck out west for Nunton.
After crossing the A865 again, the road forked. The left fork continued due west past a Scottish Water building. The right fork, bearing more northwest, seemed to be the one all the cars were taking. I looked on the map but couldn't find this junction, so I decided to follow the cars. At length I got to the outskirts of Balivanich and a restaurant called Charlie's Bistro, where I had an excellent scallop dish and FINALLY found the fork in the road on the map. No surprises, I was supposed to take the left fork. Oh well, I had needed to visit the supermarket in Balivanich anyway, and this way I could do it on the way into Nunton instead of having to make an out-and-back side trip.
I got the grand walking tour through Balivanich, passed the airport, stopped in at the grocery store, and continued to follow the road as it turned south toward Nunton. I passed by the moorland road I was supposed to follow earlier, and at last rocked up to the hostel in Nunton a little before 6pm. It is a fine evening, but breezy.
Song of the day: "Honky Cat" by Elton John
***
Wednesday 5 June 2019
Nunton to Ardmore: "Abundance and Scarcity (of waymarkers)"
Distance: 8 miles
Start: 9:35am
Finish: 2:15pm
Weather: Cloudy and windy
Spectacular sunset last night, which I watched from the beach at Nunton. Sunset time? 10:17pm. What a country.
Donald the hostel warden was spouting dire warnings of incoming inclement weather last night, but the morning dawned dry, if cloudy and somewhat blowy. I breakfasted and set off, following the road south out of Nunton until the trail diverted onto the dunes. The tide was out, so I elected to drop down onto the beach and walk along the shore. Walking on slightly damp sand had my feet rejoicing, and I had the beach to myself apart from a woman exercising her three dogs.
Rounding the point at Sithean Bhuirgh, I found a handy spot to climb back onto the dunes and followed a faint path through them toward Linaclate. Today marked my first encounter with machair - grass and flowers growing on sand, an improbable state of affairs which is almost unique to the Outer Hebrides. All the sources I've read state that I will see much more of it on South Uist.
All along the dunes I'd seen marker posts at regular intervals - indeed, they were almost comically close together in places - but they petered out at the same time the path across the dunes did. The Cicerone guide uses the lone wind turbine nearby as a point of reference, so I made my way to the base of the turbine along vehicle tracks through the machair to consider my next move. The path appeared to strike north toward the road at this point, so I headed that way. A guy working at one of the agricultural sheds nearby hailed me and asked if I was walking the Hebridean Way, which I confirmed. It's a bit thready, we both agreed, with either feast or famine conditions in the way of routemarking. Much of this is the fault of the weather, the man said. Marker posts get blown away in the winter storms each year. Paths get obliterated by shifting sands. Turf paths (which I've yet to encounter) sink into the bog. This led me to ponder: a walking route traversing the Outer Hebrides from top to bottom is no doubt an exciting and worthy notion; but the climate and terrain of these islands is such that creating a permanent footpath across them may be next to impossible. So what do you do? I'm not sure.
The man pointed out the Dark Island Hotel to me, where I had a room booked for the night. It was only 11:45am and my room wasn't ready yet, plus I still had plenty of energy left and the weather was holding. So I had a nice lunch and a cup of tea, dumped my rucksack, and set off just after 1pm to shave a few miles off of tomorrow's planned walk. When planning this trip, I had wanted to end this day in either Creagorry or Ardmore, but all the accommodation in both places was booked solid (and had been since last October, as one B&B proprietor in Ardmore more cheerfully told me in an email); hence my booking in Linaclate, a mere morning's walk from Nunton. Looking at the map now, I saw that the Hebridean Way following the road all the way to Ardmore, where I could get a bus back. Ezpz. Let's do it.
There is a footway along this bit of road, thank goodness. I was able to put on my MP3 player and just chug along, through Creagorry and over the causeway to South Uist, which the hills on South Uist getting bigger all the while. I reached the bus shelter at the turnoff for Ardmore just a little too late for the bus that was due just after 2pm, so I had to wait an hour and a half for the next bus. No matter, I had brought a book with me and the weather was still holding.
Song of the day: "Way Down We Go" by Kaleo
***
Thursday 6 June 2019
Ardmore to Howmore: "Sail away lady, sail away!"
Distance: 13 miles
Start: 8:55am
Finish: 4:45pm
Weather: Windy
I've had difficulty falling asleep for the last few nights. The sun doesn't set until after 10pm and it doesn't get dark until nearly midnight, and no matter how valiantly I tried to go to bed at a decent hour last night, I simply could not do it. So it was a sleepy and grumpy morning, getting up early for breakfast so that I could make the 8:40am bus back to Ardmore.
Back where I left off and down the minor road through Ardmore. The weather forecast had an increasing probability of rain as the day went on, so I had put the raincover on my rucksack and it was flapping lustily in the high northerly wind. A woman in a Volvo had the audacity to beep at me when I didn't hear her come up behind me.
After walking through Ardmore I turned right up onto some moorland. There was a very faint path across the moor between two lochans, regularly interrupted by boggy ground. It was slow going as I threaded my way across until I hit a minor road, which I followed briefly before getting onto a gravel track leading to a windfarm. I walked directly underneath the three turbines and then took a short break in the lee of a maintenance building by the easternmost turbine. I took my rucksack's raincover off - so far the weather was holding, and the raincover was repeatedly threatening to turn into a sail and launch me goodness-knows-where.
A little way after leaving the wind turbines, the gravel track abruptly ended and I was once again following posts across boggy moorland. The waymarkers were sensibly spaced and I made good progress across the moor, only going in up to my ankles a couple of times. The gravel path resumed at a bridge and took me all the way to the A865, where I turned south. I scooted along the road for a while, making a brief pit stop to visit the Our Lady of the Isles statue (underwhelming).
Eventually I turned left onto the B890 road and followed it toward Loch Druidibeg. I was getting tired of tarmac-pounding and dodging cars by this point, but there was nothing for it but to keep going. I sat down on a rock by the road for a snack, and none other than my roommate from the hostel in Nunton rolled up in her car to greet me! The B-road eventually came to a parking area by Loch Druidibeg, which was busy with wild ponies. I turned right onto a path by the loch shore, which transformed from gravel to dirt to mud and back to dirt again, with duckboard helpfully laid over the boggiest bits. Eventually the path resolved itself into a farm track, and I passed through a couple of gates to reach the A865 once again.
The moment I reached the road it finally started raining. The Hebridean Way crosses the road to go through Drimsdale, but I elected to turn south and follow the road directly to Howmore. Turning right into Howmore, I puzzled over two thatch-roofed cottages (one of which had a helpful "Not Hostel" sign in the window) before reaching the Gatliff hostel, nearly at the end of the road.
I had my first encounter with raised turf paths across the peat today. The photos I remember seeing on the website two years ago showed them as pristine, but they were looking...well-used, let's say. It had me revisiting my thoughts from yesterday about this trail. It is going to be a bitch to maintain and it is probably going to change slightly from year to year, and I just hope the Western Isles Council has the resources to keep up.
Song of the day: "All the Right Moves" by OneRepublic
***
Friday 7 June 2019
Howmore to Daliburgh: "Bug Strikes"
Distance: 11 miles
Start: 8:40am
Finish: 2:20pm
Weather: Partly cloudy and windy
Great craic in the hostel in Howmore last night. Pretty much everyone staying there was either walking or cycling, so it was a good crowd with great camaraderie.
I was on my way by 8:40 this morning, striking out for the coast on a minor road that led southwest out of Howmore. I was actually a bit inland from the highlighted route in the guidebook, which meant I was able to bypass the barbed wire fence near Loch a' Mhoil that I've heard so much about. After a while on the minor road, I picked up a good farm track heading due south, which I followed for the next several miles. The path stays inland for longer than I was expecting, but the walking was flat and the terrain was forgiving (more machair), and I was able to motor along quite happily, notwithstanding the south wind that blew at my unceasingly. At least my northbound cyclist friends from the hostel must have had a bitchin' day today!
I passed a woman walking northbound about halfway through the day, and about half an hour or so after meeting her I pulled the guidebook out to try and get my bearings. I felt like I should have dropped onto the beach by then but I hadn't. In general, I've had a really difficult time judging distances from the OS maps in the guidebook. While I was stopped, I realized that I was missing one of my water bottles. I must have left it either at the hostel or at the last place I'd stopped for a break, about an hour beforehand. Either way it was too late to go back for it, so I'm going to have to make do with carrying only one liter of water at a time for the rest of the trip.
The waymarkers are a little unclear as to whether you're meant to continue following the inland track or head out to the beach, but I really wanted to walk on the beach, so I dropped down onto the sand shortly after passing the point at Trolaisgeir. This was enjoyable for a bit...until I experienced my first-ever bug strike. Damn thing hit me right in the middle of my forehead, dead center. I gamely carried on down the beach, but the bug strikes continued, propelled by the strong southerly wind I was walking against. When one hit me right under my eye, I gave up on the beach-walking and found a handy spot to climb back up to the top of the dunes.
By now the trail food I had purchased in Balivanich was depleted and I was getting quite tired and hungry, so my thoughts began to run to the tune of "Where is this damn golf course?" Luckily I passed my first green not long after. There were golfers about, and I considered dropping back onto the beach to ensure I stayed out of their way, but I was anxious about potentially losing sight of the communications tower that marked the place where I needed to turn inland toward Daliburgh, so I decided to keep to the dunes at the edge of the golf course as much as possible. The trail itself clings rather precipitously to the seaward side of the dunes, so it's a bit of a Choose Your Own Adventure here: beach, dunes, or golf course. I saw my second and final northbound walker on the beach below me while passing the golf course - I'm not sure whether he saw me.
After an age I finally cleared the golf course, and easily located the path to swing inland toward the comms tower and Cladh Hallan cemetery. This is evidently a popular spot for birdwatching, and loads of people were out with their binoculars. I followed the narrow minor road south from the tower, and then turned east toward Daliburgh. I'd had enough for the day by then and didn't really fancy the off-route roadwalk into town, so I stuck my thumb out and got a lift from a nice woman in a campervan.
Song of the day: "Buffalo Stance" by Neneh Cherry
***
Saturday 8 June 2019
Daliburgh to the Am Politician Pub: "Downpour Gin"
Distance: 10 miles
Start: 9:55am
Finish: 2:50pm
Weather: Overcast with occasional hazy sunshine
Had a fantastic sleep last night and woke up feeling refreshed and energetic. After breakfast at the Borrodale Hotel, I shouldered my rucksack for my last big day of walking on this trip and began making my way back to the coast on the tarmac road. I wasn't super-excited for the mile and a quarter tarmac plod back to the trail and intended to try and hitchhike, but no cars passed me going that direction so I had to hoof it on my own. Oh well.
I got back to the trail and turned south. These were the final few miles on the Machair Way, and they were mostly on sandy farm tracks interrupted by the occasional minor road. I saw a black rabbit bounding across a field and thought I saw dolphins offshore near Orosay, but I had no binoculars so I couldn't tell for sure. I made good time and get to the Pollochar Inn, where the Machair Way ends, a little after noon. I had a nice lunch there, accompanied by the local drunkard perched at the end of the bar. By and by a large coach tour rocked up at the pub and I discreetly took my leave.
It was tarmac for the rest of the day. There were stretches with nice, wide, grassy verge to walk on as I progressed through West Kilbride and East Kilbride toward the causeway, but these gradually narrowed away. Then it was causeway time! Surprisingly I had it to myself most of the way across, which was fortunate, as I didn't really fancy picking my way across the gravel verge. At the midpoint of the causeway I paused very briefly to look down into the water and saw half a dozen jellyfish float by.
Then I was over the causeway and onto Eriskay. I was too early to check in to my Airbnb, so I made my way to the Am Politician pub. The coach tour had passed me on the causeway and were gearing up to leave as I arrived. I jokingly asked the driver if he was following me, and he was astonished to learn that I'd walked there from Pollochar. "From Daliburgh, actually!" I cheerfully corrected him. I've seen a local gin promoted in a few pubs over the last several days, and I decided that it was high time I tried it. So a Downpour gin and tonic was how I whiled away the next hour, along with watching the staff decorate the place for a 40th wedding anniversary celebration that would be taking place later.
Song of the day: "Save Me" by Dave Matthews
***
Sunday 9 June 2019
Am Politician Pub to Eriskay Ferry Terminal
This rounded out the Eriskay section of the Hebridean Way and my walking plans for this part of the trip. The walk to the ferry dock took about 35 minutes, including a wrong turn up a road which turned out to be someone's driveway. Luckily the homeowner wasn't offended, and he helpfully pointed me through a gate which led to the Hebridean Way footpath, above Bonnie Prince Charlie's beach. Several tents were pitched at the top of the beach, alongside several motorcycles.
I had realized too late that the Barra buses don't run on Sundays, but in the waiting room for the ferry I met a party on a cycling trip through the Hebrides and they gallantly offered me a ride to Castlebay in their support van. The kindness of strangers always give me the warm fuzzies, and I rode across Barra with the warmest sense of well-being inside. This was a great way to end my journey on the Hebridean Way.
Song of the day: "Far Side of the World" by Tide Lines
Saturday, July 13, 2019
Saturday, July 6, 2019
Leeds and Edinburgh again
Thursday 30 May 2019
I spent most of Tuesday on the train, traveling from Inverness to Leeds via Edinburgh. I have found that I'm not enjoying train travel on this trip as much as I have on previous trips. Most of the trains I've taken on this trip have been late, and I'm more affected by motion-sickness than I used to be.
Leeds still has the most American feel of any English city I've ever been to. It's big and spread out and modern, and its train station is absolutely huge. It took me ages to find a working ATM, and then my taxi driver had the audacity to ask me "Where's that?" when I told him Kat's address. Like, you're a cab driver, isn't it your job to know these things?
I had a quiet Tuesday night in with Kat, her partner Marco, and her cats Saffy, Izzy, and Micawber. Yesterday Kat and I went to the art gallery and the Henry Moore Institute, where there was an exhibition on by Renee So. Last night Kat, Marco, and I went to a small Polish restaurant for dinner and then to the cinema to see Rocketman, which we all enjoyed.
This morning Kat and I watched a couple episodes of Game of Thrones (I am now caught up except for the series finale), and we are now at Kirkstall Abbey and Museum. The day is warm but cloudy, with occasional spitting rain. I love abbeys and cathedrals and their ruins, and I am currently happily sitting on a bench writing this and watching families on half-term at play.
"Real life" is beginning to re-assert itself a bit. I logged into my school email on Tuesday for the first time in several days, to see a notice that I needed to register for my fall classes by Thursday (today). Fortunately I was able to borrow Kat's laptop for that. I also got a text message from my school mentor, and an email from my mom about the moving of my stuff which will take place this weekend...so yeah, American life and my impending return to it are on my mind this week.
***
Saturday 1 June 2019
Yesterday I took the CrossCountry train from Leeds to Edinburgh, after hitching a ride to the station with Marco. My train was late of course, and there were uppity English people on it demanding that their seat reservations be honored even though they'd all been cancelled. Ugh. Not a fun ride.
I had a quiet afternoon and evening yesterday, napping in my HUGE private room at Belford Hostel and venturing out to get a doner kebab for dinner. There's a festival on at the Meadows today, so I'm planning to go to that and meet up with Ewan and Kath there. Plan for tomorrow is to get an early-ish train out of Haymarket to Glasgow, and then the 10am bus allllll the way up to Uig, where I will get the evening ferry to Lochmaddy!
I spent most of Tuesday on the train, traveling from Inverness to Leeds via Edinburgh. I have found that I'm not enjoying train travel on this trip as much as I have on previous trips. Most of the trains I've taken on this trip have been late, and I'm more affected by motion-sickness than I used to be.
Leeds still has the most American feel of any English city I've ever been to. It's big and spread out and modern, and its train station is absolutely huge. It took me ages to find a working ATM, and then my taxi driver had the audacity to ask me "Where's that?" when I told him Kat's address. Like, you're a cab driver, isn't it your job to know these things?
I had a quiet Tuesday night in with Kat, her partner Marco, and her cats Saffy, Izzy, and Micawber. Yesterday Kat and I went to the art gallery and the Henry Moore Institute, where there was an exhibition on by Renee So. Last night Kat, Marco, and I went to a small Polish restaurant for dinner and then to the cinema to see Rocketman, which we all enjoyed.
This morning Kat and I watched a couple episodes of Game of Thrones (I am now caught up except for the series finale), and we are now at Kirkstall Abbey and Museum. The day is warm but cloudy, with occasional spitting rain. I love abbeys and cathedrals and their ruins, and I am currently happily sitting on a bench writing this and watching families on half-term at play.
"Real life" is beginning to re-assert itself a bit. I logged into my school email on Tuesday for the first time in several days, to see a notice that I needed to register for my fall classes by Thursday (today). Fortunately I was able to borrow Kat's laptop for that. I also got a text message from my school mentor, and an email from my mom about the moving of my stuff which will take place this weekend...so yeah, American life and my impending return to it are on my mind this week.
***
Saturday 1 June 2019
Yesterday I took the CrossCountry train from Leeds to Edinburgh, after hitching a ride to the station with Marco. My train was late of course, and there were uppity English people on it demanding that their seat reservations be honored even though they'd all been cancelled. Ugh. Not a fun ride.
I had a quiet afternoon and evening yesterday, napping in my HUGE private room at Belford Hostel and venturing out to get a doner kebab for dinner. There's a festival on at the Meadows today, so I'm planning to go to that and meet up with Ewan and Kath there. Plan for tomorrow is to get an early-ish train out of Haymarket to Glasgow, and then the 10am bus allllll the way up to Uig, where I will get the evening ferry to Lochmaddy!
Thursday, July 4, 2019
Inverness and the Great Glen Way
Saturday 25 May 2019
This trip has been an exercise in listening to my instincts. Case in point: I had originally booked a hostel dorm as my accommodation in Inverness, against my better judgment. While I was in Newcastle, I came to my senses (with the help of the loud stag party down the hall), cancelled the hostel, and booked an Airbnb instead. The Airbnb I found was a self-catering cottage I would have to myself. Wonderful.
Within an hour or two of booking it, the owner messaged me and said that the cottage was no longer available and was going to be unlisted, but she had an apartment she could offer me instead, and would I like pictures? Okay yes, the pictures look fine, I'll take the apartment instead.
Then things started getting interesting. "I may be able to get someone to meet you because I'm in Australia at the moment." This is the point at which I should have cancelled the booking and walked away. All my instincts told me to. Because "may"? What do you mean "may"?
About a week ago, I got another message. "My sister is going to meet you to give you access to the flat, here is her number." I texted the sister (who I will just refer to as "Sister" from now on), no answer. I'm convinced I'm going to rock up in Inverness and not have accommodation at this point, but I'm not going to get my money back if I cancel at this late stage, so I need to do my due diligence and see this through. I messaged the owner to say it's been two days and Sister hasn't answered me, do I have the right number? Yes, that's the right number. So I called and left a voicemail. FINALLY Sister got back to me. She even offered to meet me at the train station. Looks like I'm actually going to have somewhere to stay after all!
Sister meets me as promised, and even takes me to Tesco so I can get groceries. We get to the flat, and it's a bit small but it'll do fine for me for three nights. Only THEN do I find out there's no WiFi. I have people I'm going to need to be in touch with over the next few days, so this is something of a problem. Also the TV remote is MIA. So no internet AND no TV. Ugghhh. And I'm pretty sure I saw black mold in the hallway.
Then I went to take a shower, and there was no hot water. Look, I can live without WiFi and TV for three days, but I cannot live without hot water. I called Sister, and she sent her husband over. Thankfully, he not only fixed the hot water, he brought a replacement TV with him! So all was not lost in the end.
***
Monday 27 May 2019
Drumnadrochit to Inverness: "Unfinished Business"
Distance: 18 miles
Start: 9:20am
Finish: 6:20pm
Weather: Alternating sun and rain
I've chickened out on this final day of the Great Glen Way twice, but I was determined to do it on this trip. I got the 8:45am bus to Drumnadrochit and started walking at 9:20am
The first bit of this day follows the footway of the A82 out of Drumnadrochit - not an inspiring start. But things rapidly improved as the trail turned left and began climbing away from the road. The climb up to Abriachan is lengthy, but once you get to the top and the path levels out, this final day of the Great Glen Way is a DELIGHT. The Great Glen Way suffers a bit from Green Tunnel Syndrome and an unchanging view for the first 55 miles, but on this day it moves away from Loch Ness and strikes out cross-country. I was enjoying the novelty and the sunshine, but dark clouds loomed to the north. I had brought my raincoat but not my waterproof overtrousers, so OF COURSE the sky opened and the coldest, heaviest rain I've had all trip fell, soaking through my scrub bottoms in short order. There was nothing for it except to keep moving and hope the rain would stop, and it did in due course. By the time I got to Abriachan Campsite and Cafe, the sun had come back out and my clothes were drying. I stopped at the cafe for some soup, tea, and an absolutely massive slice of lemon sponge. The price was a slightly steep 17 GBP, but this place has no competition hereabouts so I suppose they can charge what they want. Very friendly people, though.
Leaving the cafe, it was time for a lengthy section of moorland walking, first along a minor road and then on a path through the heather. This was probably my favorite part of the day. The views around me were great, and I knew I was more than halfway through the day. I got more confident that I would actually be able to finish this day! Even when I got into a section of forest, and my knees started to protest the length of the day, my spirits remained high.
Abruptly I got to a clearing and a fantastic view of Inverness down below, which meant it was time to start descending. As I began coming down, I started to see local people out for walks, so I knew I was getting close. The the (in)famous sign: Inverness Castle, 4 miles. Go, go, go! I made my way through Inverness's outskirts, and when I popped out onto the Caledonian Canal I knew I really was getting close. I passed more people out on late afternoon walks, including a woman completely absorbed with her phone, apparently oblivious to both me and her dog, who was luxuriantly rolling in funk several dozen meters behind her.
I crossed the bridge over the canal and swung around to follow the River Ness, crossing over the very pretty Ness islands. Then up the east bank of the river, and heaving myself up one final hill to Inverness Castle. I touched the marker at the official terminus exactly nine hours after beginning my day's walk in Drumnadrochit, and six years, eight months, and thirteen days after starting this, my first ever long-distance walk, from Fort William. I am so proud and happy that I finished it.
Song of the day: "Prelude/Angry Young Man" by Billy Joel
This trip has been an exercise in listening to my instincts. Case in point: I had originally booked a hostel dorm as my accommodation in Inverness, against my better judgment. While I was in Newcastle, I came to my senses (with the help of the loud stag party down the hall), cancelled the hostel, and booked an Airbnb instead. The Airbnb I found was a self-catering cottage I would have to myself. Wonderful.
Within an hour or two of booking it, the owner messaged me and said that the cottage was no longer available and was going to be unlisted, but she had an apartment she could offer me instead, and would I like pictures? Okay yes, the pictures look fine, I'll take the apartment instead.
Then things started getting interesting. "I may be able to get someone to meet you because I'm in Australia at the moment." This is the point at which I should have cancelled the booking and walked away. All my instincts told me to. Because "may"? What do you mean "may"?
About a week ago, I got another message. "My sister is going to meet you to give you access to the flat, here is her number." I texted the sister (who I will just refer to as "Sister" from now on), no answer. I'm convinced I'm going to rock up in Inverness and not have accommodation at this point, but I'm not going to get my money back if I cancel at this late stage, so I need to do my due diligence and see this through. I messaged the owner to say it's been two days and Sister hasn't answered me, do I have the right number? Yes, that's the right number. So I called and left a voicemail. FINALLY Sister got back to me. She even offered to meet me at the train station. Looks like I'm actually going to have somewhere to stay after all!
Sister meets me as promised, and even takes me to Tesco so I can get groceries. We get to the flat, and it's a bit small but it'll do fine for me for three nights. Only THEN do I find out there's no WiFi. I have people I'm going to need to be in touch with over the next few days, so this is something of a problem. Also the TV remote is MIA. So no internet AND no TV. Ugghhh. And I'm pretty sure I saw black mold in the hallway.
Then I went to take a shower, and there was no hot water. Look, I can live without WiFi and TV for three days, but I cannot live without hot water. I called Sister, and she sent her husband over. Thankfully, he not only fixed the hot water, he brought a replacement TV with him! So all was not lost in the end.
***
Monday 27 May 2019
Drumnadrochit to Inverness: "Unfinished Business"
Distance: 18 miles
Start: 9:20am
Finish: 6:20pm
Weather: Alternating sun and rain
I've chickened out on this final day of the Great Glen Way twice, but I was determined to do it on this trip. I got the 8:45am bus to Drumnadrochit and started walking at 9:20am
The first bit of this day follows the footway of the A82 out of Drumnadrochit - not an inspiring start. But things rapidly improved as the trail turned left and began climbing away from the road. The climb up to Abriachan is lengthy, but once you get to the top and the path levels out, this final day of the Great Glen Way is a DELIGHT. The Great Glen Way suffers a bit from Green Tunnel Syndrome and an unchanging view for the first 55 miles, but on this day it moves away from Loch Ness and strikes out cross-country. I was enjoying the novelty and the sunshine, but dark clouds loomed to the north. I had brought my raincoat but not my waterproof overtrousers, so OF COURSE the sky opened and the coldest, heaviest rain I've had all trip fell, soaking through my scrub bottoms in short order. There was nothing for it except to keep moving and hope the rain would stop, and it did in due course. By the time I got to Abriachan Campsite and Cafe, the sun had come back out and my clothes were drying. I stopped at the cafe for some soup, tea, and an absolutely massive slice of lemon sponge. The price was a slightly steep 17 GBP, but this place has no competition hereabouts so I suppose they can charge what they want. Very friendly people, though.
Leaving the cafe, it was time for a lengthy section of moorland walking, first along a minor road and then on a path through the heather. This was probably my favorite part of the day. The views around me were great, and I knew I was more than halfway through the day. I got more confident that I would actually be able to finish this day! Even when I got into a section of forest, and my knees started to protest the length of the day, my spirits remained high.
Abruptly I got to a clearing and a fantastic view of Inverness down below, which meant it was time to start descending. As I began coming down, I started to see local people out for walks, so I knew I was getting close. The the (in)famous sign: Inverness Castle, 4 miles. Go, go, go! I made my way through Inverness's outskirts, and when I popped out onto the Caledonian Canal I knew I really was getting close. I passed more people out on late afternoon walks, including a woman completely absorbed with her phone, apparently oblivious to both me and her dog, who was luxuriantly rolling in funk several dozen meters behind her.
I crossed the bridge over the canal and swung around to follow the River Ness, crossing over the very pretty Ness islands. Then up the east bank of the river, and heaving myself up one final hill to Inverness Castle. I touched the marker at the official terminus exactly nine hours after beginning my day's walk in Drumnadrochit, and six years, eight months, and thirteen days after starting this, my first ever long-distance walk, from Fort William. I am so proud and happy that I finished it.
Song of the day: "Prelude/Angry Young Man" by Billy Joel
Saturday, June 29, 2019
The Speyside Way
Friday 17 May 2019
Rest day in Pitlochry today. It's also the first day in a little over a week that I've been "on-grid," so I'm just now learning of the knife attack on the Appalachian Trail that occurred last weekend.
I'm still gathering my thoughts about it. Obviously my heart hurts for the hiker who was killed and his family, as well as the hiker who was injured. But it's also given me cause to pause and reflect.
The word "trust" keeps going through my head. There's a lot of trust that goes into being a long-distance hiker - trust that the people you meet along the way are going to be friendly and helpful and wish you well, or at least not actively be out to harm you. I carry a knife on me on these trips, in case of emergencies as well as for self-defense. But really, if a mentally ill man came at me with a machete, what could I realistically do about it?
I'm not going to stop doing what I do. But this has given me a lot to think about, and it's going to be on my mind as I begin the Speyside Way in the next couple of days.
***
Sunday 19 May 2019
Kincraig to Boat of Garten: "The Drowned Land"
Distance: 12 miles
Start: 9:00am
Finish: 3:35pm
Weather: Cloudy and humid
Yesterday was a quiet, rainy day in Pitlochry. I drifted from cafe to cafe and had a late lunch in a Bangladeshi restaurant, waiting for my late afternoon train to Kingussie. And then my train ended up being cancelled, so I had to wait almost another two hours for the next one. But a couple of other women waiting at the station in the same predicament shared their rum and Coke with me, so all was not lost!
Kingussie is an odd little town. It was once the capital of Badenoch and it is physically located on the tourist trail through the Cairngorm mountains, and yet most tourists seem to bypass it in favor of Dalwhinnie or Aviemore. Taking a walk down the high street yesterday evening, I saw a fair number of vacant storefronts and "closed until further notice" signs. The whole town had an atmosphere as if it were teetering on the edge of economic depression, which is a shame, because the proximity of Ruthven Barracks and the River Spey really ought to draw more people there.
Anyway. My Airbnb host offered to drive me to Kincraig this morning and I gratefully accepted. My plan had been to catch a bus; but being Sunday, the only bus going from Kingussie to Kincraig was scheduled to depart at 12:37pm, which meant I would have been starting a 12-mile walking day at nearly 1pm. As it was, I began my walk out of Kincraig just before 9am.
Leaving Kincraig, the trail goes through forest. There are actually several trails weaving through the forest in a latticework maze, one of which is the Badenoch Way, which sometimes coincides with the Speyside Way and sometimes meanders off to take a less direct but more scenic route toward Aviemore. The are large, friendly green signs pointing the way toward Aviemore at regular intervals, so any concerns I had about how "finished" this part of the Speyside Way truly is were laid to rest.
After about three miles, the trees thinned out and the trail ran parallel to the railway line pretty much the rest of the way to Aviemore. I saw one train go by: an LNER train, southbound - possibly going all the way to London. There were a few short, sharp climbs and descents, but the walking was mostly level. About a mile south of Aviemore I saw a male pheasant lounging in a field full of sheep. It was a comical sight, and as I stopped to take a picture I inadvertently flushed two females who'd been hiding near the fence.
I got to Aviemore at about 11:30am - just a little too early for a lot of the restaurants to be open. But I was in great need of a break, so I sat down on a bench outside a promising-looking pub and settled in to wait. I was their first customer of the day, in the door as soon as it was unlocked. Their spinach and pesto ravioli was passable and their American country-western music was terrible.
The trail follows the road north out of Aviemore and then bears to the right. While this morning I was paralleling the main railway line, this afternoon I was paralleling the Strathspey Steam Train railway line. I waved to the steam engine and its passengers each time it passed me. National Cycle Route 7, my companion from the Rob Roy Way, has also found me again, so I was sharing the path with cyclists all afternoon. The afternoon's walk was level and unchallenging on a clear path through the heather, but it was unforgiving on my feet, particularly as it gave way to gravel and then tarmac on my way into Boat of Garten.
I've now walked 176 miles on this trip, and it feels like it's getting harder rather than easier. My rucksack feels heavier with every passing mile, and today was the first day that my back truly ached while carrying it. This is the last long-distance walk that I planned to walk end-to-end on this trip, and I just hope I can finish it.
Song of the day: "The Wind Cries Mary" by Jimi Hendrix
***
Monday 20 May 2019
Boat of Garten to Grantown-on-Spey: "I wonder as I wander"
Distance: 11 miles
Start: 9:55am
Finish: 3:50pm
Weather: Light rain in the morning, cloudy in the afternoon
Late start this morning. I told myself it was because I couldn't check in to my accommodation in Grantown-on-Spey until 4pm so there was little point in leaving early, but really I just COULD NOT summon any enthusiasm for this day. Yesterday's walking was mostly pretty dull, and I've already been fretting about tomorrow's walk (which is supposed to be the most challenging on this trail), so I was distracted, unenergetic, and surly as I trudged out of Boat of Garten.
I crossed the River Spey on my way out of Boat of Garten - the first of many such crossings I will be making in the coming days. I soon entered the forest, and stayed there all the way to Nethy Bridge. I generally dislike walking in forest because the view never changes, so this did not improve my mood. The monotony made my mind wander. I wanted to put my MP3 player on to give my brain something to focus on, but I was still sharing the trail with occasional cyclists and needed to be able to hear them coming up behind me, so I couldn't.
I reached Nethy Bridge exactly two hours after leaving Boat of Garten and stopped for a quiche and a pot of tea at the cafe there. I must have looked truly down-and-out, because a girl who'd been sitting near me and who I'd chatted with a bit bought me a mint cake as I was leaving. Warmed by her kindness, I left Nethy Bridge in a better mood.
And my mood improved even more as I continued on. I'd left the forest behind and was now walking on a raised earth embankment between two fields - an old railway line, I came to find out. There were views toward the mountains and river...and toward the black clouds boiling up behind me. I passed through a farm, and the River Spey drew alongside again before I crossed it for the second time, racing the rain clouds.
The final part of the day took me into Anagach Woods (trees again!). I actually missed the right-hand turn into the woods on my first pass and had to double back when I reached a big traffic roundabout and realized I'd gone wrong somewhere. The waymarker is set far back in the trees, so how anyone is supposed to see it is beyond me. After a short schlep through the woods, I left the trail where it made a sharp turn to the right and walked into Grantown-on-Spey.
Song of the day: "The Boxer" by Simon and Garfunkel (Mumford and Sons + Jerry Douglas version)
***
Tuesday 21 May 2019
Grantown-on-Spey to Ballindalloch: "Follow the squeeze gates!"
Distance: 15 miles
Start: 9:00am
Finish: 6:00pm
Weather: Cloudy in the morning, alternating rain and sun in the afternoon
I had a restless night last night. I was fretting about today's walk, and my stomach was fretting about the Indian food I had for dinner, so the night was not restful. Breakfast at 8am, and I was back where I left off yesterday by 9am. Back into Anagach Woods, in fact. I saw two men who looked to be out on a morning stroll, plus a woman walking her cocker spaniel. My hosts from last night have two cocker spaniels, one of whom is the mother of many of the other cocker spaniels who live in and around Grantown-on-Spey. I wondered if this one was one such.
I emerged from the woods and made my way to Cromdale, passing the old railway platform and crossing the River Spey for a third time. Then I struck out cross-country toward Ballindalloch.
Reading online resources and WalkHighlands walk reports in preparation for this trail, I got the impression (from reading between the lines) that the landowners between Cromdale and Ballindalloch objected - and continue to object - strenuously - to the Speyside Way going across their land. This impression was reinforced on the approach to Tom An Uird Wood. A section of the trail was clearly converted into a sheep-dipping pen recently, and various fencing apparatus remains in the way, often without an obvious access point through. I physically lifted a few gates out of the way today, and more was to come...
The path climbed up into Tom An Uird Wood, where I found a convenient tree stump for a lunch break. I had been bracing myself for a long stretch of monotonous forest walking, but I was through the wood surprisingly quickly and then onto more cross-country walking.
On my Harvey Map of the Speyside Way, the trail across Meiklepark Wood and Aird Farm is straight but pathless. This is very much NOT the case on the ground. The path skirts around (what I assume is) somebody's property line at right angles, bordered by barbed wire fencing. And it is often over steep ground, broken ground, tree roots, bog, or some combination thereof. It's like the landowner went "Nah," forced the path to be diverted, and has subsequently taken zero interest in ensuring that the path is actually passable. After a while I began to gaze longingly and hungrily at Knockfrink Wood ahead of me, because I knew it would have a sensible forestry track, rather than the landowner's power-trip of a "path" I'd been struggling over for the last two hours.
I motored through Knockfrink Wood, crossed a ravine to get to Garvault Plantation (my last significant wooded section of the day, heralded by a truly precipitous climb into the trees that made me ask "Are you sh!tting me?" out loud to no one in particular), and then descended to the A95 road. The trail follows the road for a bit before crossing it and going gradually downhill along fields and over some boggy ground to follow the River Spey into Ballindalloch. I shuffled past Ballindalloch Station exactly nine hours after setting out. NB: The Delnashaugh Hotel is a good stopover if you're doing the Speyside Way's Tomintoul Spur, but if not, it is two miles off-route.
Song of the day: "99 Problems" by Jay-Z
***
Wednesday 22 May 2019
Ballindalloch to Craigellachie: "Whisky Galore"
Distance: 12 miles
Start: 10:00am
Finish: 4:05pm
Weather: Rainy
I had dinner last night and breakfast this morning alongside four Yorkshiremen who are doing the Speyside Way southbound. Last night, one of them said "The forecast is meant to be decent tomorrow!" so I really should not have been surprised when the day dawned gray and rainy.
A hotel staff member named Andrew drove me up to Ballindalloch Station, sparing me a repeat performance of yesterday's 2-mile roadside walk. Today's walk was dead-flat disused railway line all the way to Craigellachie. I'm truly in whisky country now. I passed three distilleries in quick succession at the end of the day yesterday, and then several more today, including Tamdhu, Knockando, and Aberlour. They were closed to the public almost without exception, but the smells emanating from them gave a hint of what the finished whisky might taste like.
Today's walk also stays within sight of the River Spey for most of the day, crossing the river for the fourth and fifth time. In better weather, this probably would have been my favorite day of the walk. As it was, it rained almost without ceasing. Parts of the trail were very muddy, and I got wet feet for the first time all trip. It's time to face the fact that my Salomons are nearing the end of their lifespan.
After getting to the day's halfway point in Carron without finding anywhere sheltered to take a break, I put my head down and absolutely power-walked to Aberlour. I walked into the Mash Tun in Aberlour at 2:20pm, only to be told the kitchen had closed twenty minutes earlier. I was able to buy two cups of coffee and a bag of potato chips, though - enough fuel to get me to Craigellachie, a little over two miles further on.
Song of the day: "Lost Girls" by Lindsey Stirling
***
Thursday 23 May 2019
Craigellachie to Fochabers: "F*** this trail."
Distance: 12.5 miles
Start: 10:10am
Finish: 4:15pm
Weather: Windy and cloudy but mostly dry
Got a later start than intended this morning, because I had to make a mad dash to Craigellachie's one and only ATM to withdraw some cash to pay the landlady at my B&B. How embarrassing.
Back where I left off yesterday, I continued on the disused railway line for a short distance before bearing left to get on a minor road. There was a large group of people ahead of me, but they were following the railway line to Dufftown, which is five miles from Craigellachie and walkable as a spur. The minor road climbed up into the trees, with some views of the Spey far below. It was quite a long time before I saw another waymarker and I was getting nervous that I'd missed the turn onto a forestry road, but it turned out to be unmistakable - just look for the big green sign for Ben Aigan.
More uphill climbing on the forestry road, though it was mostly gentle climbing. I passed a woman coming down the hill on horseback. Eventually the path leveled off and began contouring around the hill, and about an hour and 45 minutes after setting out from Craigellachie I got to a picnic table with several of my fellow Yanks ranged around it. I had intended to walk a little further before stopping for lunch since I got such a late start, but it would have been churlish to refuse the table and the company! The group were walking southbound, having started from Buckie yesterday. I assured them it was all downhill to Craigellachie and then dead-flat to Ballindalloch, but to be prepared for the section between Ballindalloch and Cromdale.
Soon after leaving the picnic table the trees thinned out and I had my first views in a while, and they were splendid. Spirits lifted, I finished the last bit of forestry road and then followed a path down to the shooting range - no shooting today, thank goodness. Farm tracks got me to Boat o'Brig, where I got on the minor road I was to follow the rest of the way to Fochabers.
At this point my feet absolutely REVOLTED. They did not want to be on tarmac, they did not appreciate the steep switchback climb just after Boat o'Brig, and they definitely did not appreciate being in near-featureless forest again. I swore a blue streak all the way to Craiglug. At Craiglug my morale lifted slightly because I was now on the final page of the Harvey map, but it swiftly plummeted again when I got to the steep descent after Culfodie Farm, which is then IMMEDIATELY followed by a steep re-ascent. I shambled on past Ordiequish and finally into Fochabers. I'm really glad tomorrow is my last day on this trail.
Song of the day: "Keeping the Faith" by Billy Joel
***
Friday 24 May 2019
Fochabers to Buckie: "The Speyside Way Off-Piste"
Distance: 11 miles
Start: 9:20am
Finish: 3:45pm
Weather: Partly cloudy and windy
I left Fochabers this morning with more blue in the sky than I'd seen all week, so my spirits were high. I walked west and then north out of Fochabers, making my way towards the Moray coast with the River Spey broadening into a delta beside me.
I actually started the day by walking parallel to the actual path, which was a sign of things to come. Somewhere in the woods on the way to Spey Bay, I ended up on a side trail that ran hard alongside the river, rather than the actual trail which ran through the middle of the forest. Seeing on my map that this path would rejoin the Speyside Way in a bit, I decided I'd had quite enough of walking in the woods and wanted to see more of the river thank you, so I just stayed on the side trail.
Speyside Way rejoined in due course, I continued north. A steady onshore wind was blowing, so I could smell the sea a full hour and a half before I could see it. The spot where the river meets the sea is obscured from the trail by gorse bushes and dunes, but if you really want to see it you can wander off-path a bit.
After a lunch break at the Dolphin Center, I struck out eastward for Buckie. I somehow got off-trail again here. The waymarkers seemed to direct me onto a minor road leading to the golf course, and I walked between the golf course and the sea for a while, enjoying the view. Then the faint path I'd been following dead-ended into a gorse thicket. I consulted my map and realized I was meant to be waaaay on the other side of the golf course, in the treeline. I considered my next steps. I didn't want to backtrack all that way, and dodging golf balls to try and cross the links didn't appeal either. A passing golfer attempted to direct me to a path he said would eventually link up with the trail, but when I walked in the direction he indicated I ran into a fence.
Lacking any better ideas, I glissaded down the shingle (rather gracefully, if I do say so myself) and started walking on the beach. Immediately I felt right at home. I live in a coastal state and have been walking and playing on beaches since I was small, so this was a cinch. Plus Portgordon was visible just ahead. I did have to negotiate one burn where it flowed into the sea, carving a channel about eight feet wide and two feet deep. I hemmed and hawed a bit looking for a good crossing point, but eventually just committed and splashed across, giving my boots and gaiters a much-needed wash in the process.
I rejoined the Speyside Way proper in Portgordon, but I wasn't quite home-free yet. The Moray Coast Path joins the Speyside Way about a mile south of Spey Bay, and a cycle path also follows the coast here, so it's unclear which waymarkers are for which paths. Walking out of Portgordon I somehow ended up on the cycle path, which runs a little above the Speyside Way. I realized it when I looked down at the road and saw a Speyside Way waymarker.
I almost quit a mile from Buckie. I've been weary of this trail since the second day and I really didn't want to be walking it anymore. I called my mother for motivation and then pressed on, past Buckpool Harbor, into Buckie's town center, and finally to the finish. Some people who'd finished earlier were kind enough to take my picture.
I've now completed three long-distance trails totaling 237 miles in just under four weeks. Wahey!
Song of the day: "Am I Wrong" by Nico & Vinz
Rest day in Pitlochry today. It's also the first day in a little over a week that I've been "on-grid," so I'm just now learning of the knife attack on the Appalachian Trail that occurred last weekend.
I'm still gathering my thoughts about it. Obviously my heart hurts for the hiker who was killed and his family, as well as the hiker who was injured. But it's also given me cause to pause and reflect.
The word "trust" keeps going through my head. There's a lot of trust that goes into being a long-distance hiker - trust that the people you meet along the way are going to be friendly and helpful and wish you well, or at least not actively be out to harm you. I carry a knife on me on these trips, in case of emergencies as well as for self-defense. But really, if a mentally ill man came at me with a machete, what could I realistically do about it?
I'm not going to stop doing what I do. But this has given me a lot to think about, and it's going to be on my mind as I begin the Speyside Way in the next couple of days.
***
Sunday 19 May 2019
Kincraig to Boat of Garten: "The Drowned Land"
Distance: 12 miles
Start: 9:00am
Finish: 3:35pm
Weather: Cloudy and humid
Yesterday was a quiet, rainy day in Pitlochry. I drifted from cafe to cafe and had a late lunch in a Bangladeshi restaurant, waiting for my late afternoon train to Kingussie. And then my train ended up being cancelled, so I had to wait almost another two hours for the next one. But a couple of other women waiting at the station in the same predicament shared their rum and Coke with me, so all was not lost!
Kingussie is an odd little town. It was once the capital of Badenoch and it is physically located on the tourist trail through the Cairngorm mountains, and yet most tourists seem to bypass it in favor of Dalwhinnie or Aviemore. Taking a walk down the high street yesterday evening, I saw a fair number of vacant storefronts and "closed until further notice" signs. The whole town had an atmosphere as if it were teetering on the edge of economic depression, which is a shame, because the proximity of Ruthven Barracks and the River Spey really ought to draw more people there.
Anyway. My Airbnb host offered to drive me to Kincraig this morning and I gratefully accepted. My plan had been to catch a bus; but being Sunday, the only bus going from Kingussie to Kincraig was scheduled to depart at 12:37pm, which meant I would have been starting a 12-mile walking day at nearly 1pm. As it was, I began my walk out of Kincraig just before 9am.
Leaving Kincraig, the trail goes through forest. There are actually several trails weaving through the forest in a latticework maze, one of which is the Badenoch Way, which sometimes coincides with the Speyside Way and sometimes meanders off to take a less direct but more scenic route toward Aviemore. The are large, friendly green signs pointing the way toward Aviemore at regular intervals, so any concerns I had about how "finished" this part of the Speyside Way truly is were laid to rest.
After about three miles, the trees thinned out and the trail ran parallel to the railway line pretty much the rest of the way to Aviemore. I saw one train go by: an LNER train, southbound - possibly going all the way to London. There were a few short, sharp climbs and descents, but the walking was mostly level. About a mile south of Aviemore I saw a male pheasant lounging in a field full of sheep. It was a comical sight, and as I stopped to take a picture I inadvertently flushed two females who'd been hiding near the fence.
I got to Aviemore at about 11:30am - just a little too early for a lot of the restaurants to be open. But I was in great need of a break, so I sat down on a bench outside a promising-looking pub and settled in to wait. I was their first customer of the day, in the door as soon as it was unlocked. Their spinach and pesto ravioli was passable and their American country-western music was terrible.
The trail follows the road north out of Aviemore and then bears to the right. While this morning I was paralleling the main railway line, this afternoon I was paralleling the Strathspey Steam Train railway line. I waved to the steam engine and its passengers each time it passed me. National Cycle Route 7, my companion from the Rob Roy Way, has also found me again, so I was sharing the path with cyclists all afternoon. The afternoon's walk was level and unchallenging on a clear path through the heather, but it was unforgiving on my feet, particularly as it gave way to gravel and then tarmac on my way into Boat of Garten.
I've now walked 176 miles on this trip, and it feels like it's getting harder rather than easier. My rucksack feels heavier with every passing mile, and today was the first day that my back truly ached while carrying it. This is the last long-distance walk that I planned to walk end-to-end on this trip, and I just hope I can finish it.
Song of the day: "The Wind Cries Mary" by Jimi Hendrix
***
Monday 20 May 2019
Boat of Garten to Grantown-on-Spey: "I wonder as I wander"
Distance: 11 miles
Start: 9:55am
Finish: 3:50pm
Weather: Light rain in the morning, cloudy in the afternoon
Late start this morning. I told myself it was because I couldn't check in to my accommodation in Grantown-on-Spey until 4pm so there was little point in leaving early, but really I just COULD NOT summon any enthusiasm for this day. Yesterday's walking was mostly pretty dull, and I've already been fretting about tomorrow's walk (which is supposed to be the most challenging on this trail), so I was distracted, unenergetic, and surly as I trudged out of Boat of Garten.
I crossed the River Spey on my way out of Boat of Garten - the first of many such crossings I will be making in the coming days. I soon entered the forest, and stayed there all the way to Nethy Bridge. I generally dislike walking in forest because the view never changes, so this did not improve my mood. The monotony made my mind wander. I wanted to put my MP3 player on to give my brain something to focus on, but I was still sharing the trail with occasional cyclists and needed to be able to hear them coming up behind me, so I couldn't.
I reached Nethy Bridge exactly two hours after leaving Boat of Garten and stopped for a quiche and a pot of tea at the cafe there. I must have looked truly down-and-out, because a girl who'd been sitting near me and who I'd chatted with a bit bought me a mint cake as I was leaving. Warmed by her kindness, I left Nethy Bridge in a better mood.
And my mood improved even more as I continued on. I'd left the forest behind and was now walking on a raised earth embankment between two fields - an old railway line, I came to find out. There were views toward the mountains and river...and toward the black clouds boiling up behind me. I passed through a farm, and the River Spey drew alongside again before I crossed it for the second time, racing the rain clouds.
The final part of the day took me into Anagach Woods (trees again!). I actually missed the right-hand turn into the woods on my first pass and had to double back when I reached a big traffic roundabout and realized I'd gone wrong somewhere. The waymarker is set far back in the trees, so how anyone is supposed to see it is beyond me. After a short schlep through the woods, I left the trail where it made a sharp turn to the right and walked into Grantown-on-Spey.
Song of the day: "The Boxer" by Simon and Garfunkel (Mumford and Sons + Jerry Douglas version)
***
Tuesday 21 May 2019
Grantown-on-Spey to Ballindalloch: "Follow the squeeze gates!"
Distance: 15 miles
Start: 9:00am
Finish: 6:00pm
Weather: Cloudy in the morning, alternating rain and sun in the afternoon
I had a restless night last night. I was fretting about today's walk, and my stomach was fretting about the Indian food I had for dinner, so the night was not restful. Breakfast at 8am, and I was back where I left off yesterday by 9am. Back into Anagach Woods, in fact. I saw two men who looked to be out on a morning stroll, plus a woman walking her cocker spaniel. My hosts from last night have two cocker spaniels, one of whom is the mother of many of the other cocker spaniels who live in and around Grantown-on-Spey. I wondered if this one was one such.
I emerged from the woods and made my way to Cromdale, passing the old railway platform and crossing the River Spey for a third time. Then I struck out cross-country toward Ballindalloch.
Reading online resources and WalkHighlands walk reports in preparation for this trail, I got the impression (from reading between the lines) that the landowners between Cromdale and Ballindalloch objected - and continue to object - strenuously - to the Speyside Way going across their land. This impression was reinforced on the approach to Tom An Uird Wood. A section of the trail was clearly converted into a sheep-dipping pen recently, and various fencing apparatus remains in the way, often without an obvious access point through. I physically lifted a few gates out of the way today, and more was to come...
The path climbed up into Tom An Uird Wood, where I found a convenient tree stump for a lunch break. I had been bracing myself for a long stretch of monotonous forest walking, but I was through the wood surprisingly quickly and then onto more cross-country walking.
On my Harvey Map of the Speyside Way, the trail across Meiklepark Wood and Aird Farm is straight but pathless. This is very much NOT the case on the ground. The path skirts around (what I assume is) somebody's property line at right angles, bordered by barbed wire fencing. And it is often over steep ground, broken ground, tree roots, bog, or some combination thereof. It's like the landowner went "Nah," forced the path to be diverted, and has subsequently taken zero interest in ensuring that the path is actually passable. After a while I began to gaze longingly and hungrily at Knockfrink Wood ahead of me, because I knew it would have a sensible forestry track, rather than the landowner's power-trip of a "path" I'd been struggling over for the last two hours.
I motored through Knockfrink Wood, crossed a ravine to get to Garvault Plantation (my last significant wooded section of the day, heralded by a truly precipitous climb into the trees that made me ask "Are you sh!tting me?" out loud to no one in particular), and then descended to the A95 road. The trail follows the road for a bit before crossing it and going gradually downhill along fields and over some boggy ground to follow the River Spey into Ballindalloch. I shuffled past Ballindalloch Station exactly nine hours after setting out. NB: The Delnashaugh Hotel is a good stopover if you're doing the Speyside Way's Tomintoul Spur, but if not, it is two miles off-route.
Song of the day: "99 Problems" by Jay-Z
***
Wednesday 22 May 2019
Ballindalloch to Craigellachie: "Whisky Galore"
Distance: 12 miles
Start: 10:00am
Finish: 4:05pm
Weather: Rainy
I had dinner last night and breakfast this morning alongside four Yorkshiremen who are doing the Speyside Way southbound. Last night, one of them said "The forecast is meant to be decent tomorrow!" so I really should not have been surprised when the day dawned gray and rainy.
A hotel staff member named Andrew drove me up to Ballindalloch Station, sparing me a repeat performance of yesterday's 2-mile roadside walk. Today's walk was dead-flat disused railway line all the way to Craigellachie. I'm truly in whisky country now. I passed three distilleries in quick succession at the end of the day yesterday, and then several more today, including Tamdhu, Knockando, and Aberlour. They were closed to the public almost without exception, but the smells emanating from them gave a hint of what the finished whisky might taste like.
Today's walk also stays within sight of the River Spey for most of the day, crossing the river for the fourth and fifth time. In better weather, this probably would have been my favorite day of the walk. As it was, it rained almost without ceasing. Parts of the trail were very muddy, and I got wet feet for the first time all trip. It's time to face the fact that my Salomons are nearing the end of their lifespan.
After getting to the day's halfway point in Carron without finding anywhere sheltered to take a break, I put my head down and absolutely power-walked to Aberlour. I walked into the Mash Tun in Aberlour at 2:20pm, only to be told the kitchen had closed twenty minutes earlier. I was able to buy two cups of coffee and a bag of potato chips, though - enough fuel to get me to Craigellachie, a little over two miles further on.
Song of the day: "Lost Girls" by Lindsey Stirling
***
Thursday 23 May 2019
Craigellachie to Fochabers: "F*** this trail."
Distance: 12.5 miles
Start: 10:10am
Finish: 4:15pm
Weather: Windy and cloudy but mostly dry
Got a later start than intended this morning, because I had to make a mad dash to Craigellachie's one and only ATM to withdraw some cash to pay the landlady at my B&B. How embarrassing.
Back where I left off yesterday, I continued on the disused railway line for a short distance before bearing left to get on a minor road. There was a large group of people ahead of me, but they were following the railway line to Dufftown, which is five miles from Craigellachie and walkable as a spur. The minor road climbed up into the trees, with some views of the Spey far below. It was quite a long time before I saw another waymarker and I was getting nervous that I'd missed the turn onto a forestry road, but it turned out to be unmistakable - just look for the big green sign for Ben Aigan.
More uphill climbing on the forestry road, though it was mostly gentle climbing. I passed a woman coming down the hill on horseback. Eventually the path leveled off and began contouring around the hill, and about an hour and 45 minutes after setting out from Craigellachie I got to a picnic table with several of my fellow Yanks ranged around it. I had intended to walk a little further before stopping for lunch since I got such a late start, but it would have been churlish to refuse the table and the company! The group were walking southbound, having started from Buckie yesterday. I assured them it was all downhill to Craigellachie and then dead-flat to Ballindalloch, but to be prepared for the section between Ballindalloch and Cromdale.
Soon after leaving the picnic table the trees thinned out and I had my first views in a while, and they were splendid. Spirits lifted, I finished the last bit of forestry road and then followed a path down to the shooting range - no shooting today, thank goodness. Farm tracks got me to Boat o'Brig, where I got on the minor road I was to follow the rest of the way to Fochabers.
At this point my feet absolutely REVOLTED. They did not want to be on tarmac, they did not appreciate the steep switchback climb just after Boat o'Brig, and they definitely did not appreciate being in near-featureless forest again. I swore a blue streak all the way to Craiglug. At Craiglug my morale lifted slightly because I was now on the final page of the Harvey map, but it swiftly plummeted again when I got to the steep descent after Culfodie Farm, which is then IMMEDIATELY followed by a steep re-ascent. I shambled on past Ordiequish and finally into Fochabers. I'm really glad tomorrow is my last day on this trail.
Song of the day: "Keeping the Faith" by Billy Joel
***
Friday 24 May 2019
Fochabers to Buckie: "The Speyside Way Off-Piste"
Distance: 11 miles
Start: 9:20am
Finish: 3:45pm
Weather: Partly cloudy and windy
I left Fochabers this morning with more blue in the sky than I'd seen all week, so my spirits were high. I walked west and then north out of Fochabers, making my way towards the Moray coast with the River Spey broadening into a delta beside me.
I actually started the day by walking parallel to the actual path, which was a sign of things to come. Somewhere in the woods on the way to Spey Bay, I ended up on a side trail that ran hard alongside the river, rather than the actual trail which ran through the middle of the forest. Seeing on my map that this path would rejoin the Speyside Way in a bit, I decided I'd had quite enough of walking in the woods and wanted to see more of the river thank you, so I just stayed on the side trail.
Speyside Way rejoined in due course, I continued north. A steady onshore wind was blowing, so I could smell the sea a full hour and a half before I could see it. The spot where the river meets the sea is obscured from the trail by gorse bushes and dunes, but if you really want to see it you can wander off-path a bit.
After a lunch break at the Dolphin Center, I struck out eastward for Buckie. I somehow got off-trail again here. The waymarkers seemed to direct me onto a minor road leading to the golf course, and I walked between the golf course and the sea for a while, enjoying the view. Then the faint path I'd been following dead-ended into a gorse thicket. I consulted my map and realized I was meant to be waaaay on the other side of the golf course, in the treeline. I considered my next steps. I didn't want to backtrack all that way, and dodging golf balls to try and cross the links didn't appeal either. A passing golfer attempted to direct me to a path he said would eventually link up with the trail, but when I walked in the direction he indicated I ran into a fence.
Lacking any better ideas, I glissaded down the shingle (rather gracefully, if I do say so myself) and started walking on the beach. Immediately I felt right at home. I live in a coastal state and have been walking and playing on beaches since I was small, so this was a cinch. Plus Portgordon was visible just ahead. I did have to negotiate one burn where it flowed into the sea, carving a channel about eight feet wide and two feet deep. I hemmed and hawed a bit looking for a good crossing point, but eventually just committed and splashed across, giving my boots and gaiters a much-needed wash in the process.
I rejoined the Speyside Way proper in Portgordon, but I wasn't quite home-free yet. The Moray Coast Path joins the Speyside Way about a mile south of Spey Bay, and a cycle path also follows the coast here, so it's unclear which waymarkers are for which paths. Walking out of Portgordon I somehow ended up on the cycle path, which runs a little above the Speyside Way. I realized it when I looked down at the road and saw a Speyside Way waymarker.
I almost quit a mile from Buckie. I've been weary of this trail since the second day and I really didn't want to be walking it anymore. I called my mother for motivation and then pressed on, past Buckpool Harbor, into Buckie's town center, and finally to the finish. Some people who'd finished earlier were kind enough to take my picture.
I've now completed three long-distance trails totaling 237 miles in just under four weeks. Wahey!
Song of the day: "Am I Wrong" by Nico & Vinz
Friday, June 28, 2019
The Rob Roy Way
Friday 10 May 2019
Drymen to Aberfoyle: "Piu mosso"
Distance: 11 miles
Start: 8:50am
Finish: 1:45pm
Weather: Partly cloudy in the morning, drizzly in the afternoon
On to the second long-distance path of the trip! I caught a commuter train from Glasgow to Alexandria this morning, and then a bus from Alexandria to Drymen. As far as I know there is no monolith or anything to mark the beginning/end of the Rob Roy Way in Drymen - just a National Cycle Route signpost with a Rob Roy Way blaze on it. I got someone to take my photo and cracked on.
There was bumper-to-bumper foot traffic on the road north out of Drymen. Most of the other walkers were making their way back to the West Highland Way, and after the intersection of the two trails I had the path almost to myself, except for a Scottish couple who I leapfrogged with for most of the morning.
I recalled this being a fairly nondescript day, and my recollection was correct. The path is entirely on minor roads and forestry tracks today, which are uncomfortable underfoot, and the views are okay but nothing to write home about. Still, I lounged by Corrie Aqueduct (which appeared to be leaking?) at lunchtime until a cloud went in front of the sun and I realized I'd better press on if I didn't want to get rained on. I did get rained on, just a little bit. But I still got to Kirkton early enough to have a wander around the cemetery, killing some time until I could check in at the Forth Inn in Aberfoyle.
I'm congratulating myself on my weight loss once again! This day was much easier than it was when I did the Rob Roy Way four years ago. My body is suffering a little bit, though. My knees are complaining again, and when I undressed to have a bath I discovered that I had picked up a tick! It must have attached itself to my leg when I stepped off the path to answer nature's call, because that's the only time my legs were uncovered all day. I was impressed with how I handled it: I calmly got the tweezers out of the small first aid kit I've been carrying all trip, got the tick to detach on the fifth or sixth try, and only freaked out about it afterward!
Song of the day: "Waly Waly" - Scottish traditional
***
Saturday 11 May 2019
Aberfoyle to Callander: "I guess this is the right way?
Distance: 9.5 miles
Start: 10:20am
Finish: 3:45pm
Weather: Sunny
I got a purposely late start this morning, because I'd told my Airbnb host in Callander that I wouldn't be there until sometime after 5pm. The Forth Inn doesn't start serving breakfast until 9am anyway, which I think is absurdly late.
Last night's dinner of chips with curry sauce was talking back in a BIG way, so I popped into a pharmacy for some ranitidine on my way out of town and then tried to re-find the trail. This section of the Rob Roy Way suffers from an egregious lack of waymarking, and the waymarkers that do exist are vague. The waymarker that I assume is supposed to point up the hill to Dounans Camp appears to point into someone's back garden instead. But after a little bit of head-scratching and map-consulting, I was on my way.
It was a GORGEOUS day today. Sunny and almost the perfect temperature. It took me five and a half hours to travel a little over nine miles today, not because of any difficulty with the terrain, but because I kept stopping to admire the view! I climbed up the shoulder of the Menteith Hills and crossed a sheep pasture, stopping by a burn at the far end to have a snack and admire the view some more. I was dislodged from my spot by a large group of kids with their chaperones, presumably out for the day, and continued past a lochan jumping with fish. Then I wended and descended my way along Loch Venachar, marveling at the views across to Ben Ledi and (I think) the Loch Earn Munros beyond. When I got to the lochside I stopped for a good long while at one of the picnic areas. I was on pace to get to Callander early despite my late departure from Aberfoyle, so I decided I'd rather kill time looking at the pretty loch than loitering around Callander.
Eventually I bestirred myself, gave my boots a quick wash in the loch, and pushed on. There were lots of people out enjoying the fine day: playing by the loch, barbecuing, etc. Someone's dog growled at me, which was disconcerting.
I walked into Callander at 3:45pm and happened to meet my Airbnb host on the street. He let me in early - what a gent.
Song of the day: "Sultans of Swing" by Dire Straits
***
Sunday 12 May 2019
Callander to Strathyre: "Happiness is..."
Distance: 9 miles
Start: 9:30am
Finish: 2:15pm
Weather: Sunny
The day dawned almost cloudless. I found a place on Callander's high street that was open for breakfast, and finished my meal just as a tour bus disgorged its passengers onto the premises.
I got a photo of Ben Ledi from the bridge over the River Teith and then began the day's walk. This was my favorite day when I did the Rob Roy Way in 2015, and it was every bit as enjoyable as I remembered. More so, because it was sunny and mild today instead of sleeting! I followed the riverside track out of Callander and toward Ben Ledi, and for a mad moment as I approached the foot of the hill I considered climbing it. I cam to my senses and decided against it (not with the heavy rucksack), but clearly lots of other people had decided that this was a day to be up a hill - the parking lot was absolutely slammed full.
I stopped briefly at the forest cafe for a scone, an elderflower soda, and a toilet break, and then continued on. As I drew alongside Loch Lubnaig, I thought how nice it would be to find a nice spot by the lochside and just relax for a while. Just then, I spotted a little side trail going down to the shore. Don't mind if I do! I took my boots off for a toe-dip in the loch (cold!) and then just basked like a lizard in the sun for nearly an hour. It was barely noon, I was already halfway to Strathyre, and it was just too nice a day to be in a hurry.
After a while the wind picked up and it got slightly chilly by the lochside, so I took that as a sign to move on. The path climbed higher, affording even better views, and I just ambled along with the goofiest smile on my face. I was still smiling when I reached Strathyre, despite the fact that I'd seen no fewer than four signs saying "Strathyre - 1 mile" over the preceding two miles or so.
Song of the day: 4th movement from The Ninth Symphony by Ludwig van Beethoven
***
Monday 13 May 2019
Strathyre to Killin: "Butterflies"
Distance: 13 miles
Start: 9:20am
Finish: 3:00pm
Weather: Sunny and warm
I got a later start than I intended this morning. First my bed was sooo comfortable that I didn't want to get up, so I was later than I intended going down to breakfast. Then the breakfast craic with the hosts and the other guests was good, so I lingered a while. I highly recommend Airlie House B&B to anyone passing through Strathyre - easily in my top 3 favorite accommodations of this trip.
I had a bit of an "oops" leaving Strathyre. I set off on the track running along the west side of the road, wondering where on earth the right-hand turn that was supposed to take me up into the trees was. I finally pulled the map out and discovered that I'd missed the turn some way back, but also that this track would eventually rejoin the Rob Roy Way, so no serious harm done in the end.
The path rambled on to Lochearnhead, zigzagging up to meet the disused railway line through Glen Ogle. It was another warm, sunny day, and the views were lovely. I found a nice flat boulder a little short of Glen Ogle Viaduct to sit and eat my lunch on, my encounter with the tick having made me gun-shy about venturing into long grass. Then I continued on past a lochan to the Glen Ogle Snack Van. The van was open for business, but as I'd only just eaten lunch, I settled for topping up my water and a Snickers bar. Then I just had the final four miles through the forest before reaching Killin. The forest seemed to go on for a long time, but I put my MP3 player on and just concentrated on blasting out the miles until I got to the Falls of Dochart.
I saw lots of cyclists today but nary another walker.
Song of the day: 3rd movement from Spring by Antonio Vivaldi
***
Tuesday 14 May 2019
Killin to Ardtalnaig: "We might as well be on Mars!"
Distance: 12 miles
Start: 9:55am
Finish: 4:25pm
Weather: Sunny and hot
The climb out of Killin was as I remembered it: long and sweaty. The sun beat down relentlessly all day. Forestry land is not my favorite landscape to walk through, but I found myself looking forward to getting into the cool shade of every pine plantation I saw today. I had lots of company today: the Scottish couple I had met on the first day, plus an Australian couple and a French couple, leaving me as the lone seventh wheel.
Through the gate and across undulating moorland to the hydro dam. I stopped at the dam to drink water and squint at my map, because I thought I might like to try and bag Creag Gharbh, a Graham which the Rob Roy Way passes right by, today. Onward to the hairpin turn in the path that would bring me closest to the summit, and I saw my mistake: the slope was far too steep to ascend from this direction. Looking back toward the dam I could see the line I should have taken, but I didn't particularly want to double back, so Creag Gharbh will remain unbagged for the time being. Oh well.
A gentle descent down to the pipeline, then across the bog to Ardeonaig on Loch Tay. The fine weather of the last four days has gone a long way toward drying up the bog, and it was much easier going than the last time I came this way. Then relentless tarmac to Ardtalnaig. I was a tired, sunburned, and thirsty walker toiling up the South Loch Tay road. Passing motorists seemed to be sympathetic - they all seemed to wait for me to give the little "I'm okay" wave before continuing on their way.
Finally to Holly Cottage and my home for the night: a camping pod in the back garden, complete with kitchenette, wet room, and TV. Early to bed tonight.
Song of the day: "New Wild West" by Jewel
***
Wednesday 15 May 2019
Ardtalnaig to Aberfeldy: "Pine forests are nature's air conditioners."
Distance: 15 miles
Start: 8:30am
Finish: 5:00pm
Weather: Sunny and warm
My arms got quite sunburned yesterday, so I tried to get an early start this morning so that I could walk in long sleeves for as long as possible. The day began with four or five miles of tarmac pounding to Acharn. Then a right-hand turn to leave the road and climb up to the Falls of Acharn. This was where I stopped last time, so I was quite pleased to be pushing on, and the view of the falls was the reward.
The French couple and the Scottish couple caught up with me at the Falls of Acharn (the Australian couple were doing the Amulree loop today so I didn't see them again), which was handy because the French couple and I were mystified about which direction to take from the falls to get to the Queen's Drive. Luckily the Scottish couple knew, having done the trail before. The next few miles were on a pleasant, grassy path that contoured around the hillside and gave great views of Kenmore down below. Then the path went through forestry land for a bit. I was actually relieved to see the pine plantations, because I've discovered on this trail that pine forests are natural air conditioners: the trees actually seem to exhale cold air. I experienced a new walking surface: steamrolled rocks. It looked like the path was maybe waiting to be paved with tarmac - I certainly hope not.
For a while I'd been following signposts that said "Path to Aberfeldy X miles." They, combined with the views of Aberfeldy drawing ever closer, got my hopes up that the end of the day was near. These hopes were summarily dashed when I saw one of these signposts pointing one way and a Rob Roy Way marker pointing another. The trail, which had been descending toward Aberfeldy for a while, abruptly turned away from Aberfeldy and began ascending again, which was incredibly frustrating. I shortly found out why. The Rob Roy Way takes a circuitous route into Aberfeldy in order to go through a gorge called the Birks of Aberfeldy. Then it takes a circuitous route through the Birks. The Birks of Aberfeldy are admittedly very pretty, and the Falls of Moness might actually be more impressive than the Falls of Acharn. But I spent the whole walk through the Birks thinking "This is nice. I wish I were less tired, less hungry, less hot, and less in pain, so I could enjoy it more."
I finally popped out into the Aberfeldy town center and walked up and down the street my Airbnb was on, trying to find it. Two local women finally took pity on my and pointed it out. I was in near-hysterics from the length and heat of the day when I came through the door, but my hostess was very kind.
Song of the day: "Future Man" by Strength in Numbers
***
Thursday 16 May 2019
Aberfeldy to Pitlochry: "Bluebell fields and border collies"
Distance: 9 miles
Start: 8:20am
Finish: 1:40pm
Weather: Sunny
Last day, let's go let's go! I began following the road east out of Aberfeldy, and stopped about ten minutes into the day's walk to get a haggis roll for breakfast. Suitably fueled, I continued onward, bearing left onto a footpath following the River Tay.
I followed the River Tay all the way to Grandtully, and it was my favorite part of the day. The morning was cool, the path was level and comfortable underfoot, and the river was picturesque. The only thing that momentarily disturbed my groove was a border collie, which came tearing around a corner and toward me, tail wagging, tongue lolling, and leash trailing. It hugged me and gave me an exuberant kiss-attack. At length I was able to pry it off me and herd it ahead of me, back in the direction it came from and where its owners presumably were. Its owners were indeed at the far end of a field a little further along, calling for it.
I had intended to stop for a break in Grandtully. However, I arrived there at the same time as a big Rolls-Royce convention, and the only place that was open for food at the time was quickly overwhelmed. Annoyed, and not wanting to wait an hour for the only other eatery in town to open at noon, I walked on.
I crossed the river and began the long climb out of the Tay valley. It is an unrelenting climb along a golf course and through a sprawling gorse thicket, but the view from the top is amazing. A brief break at the top for water, and then I began the gentler descent down to the River Tummel. Forest track gave way to dirt road, dusty from six days of relentless sunshine. A dash across the A9, over the pedestrian bridge across the River Tummel, and I was on the outskirts of Pitlochry. All that was left was a quick walk through the woods to the town center, and to the war memorial which marks the end of the Rob Roy Way.
And so I have finished it! I love this trail, especially the section between Aberfoyle and Killin. And that's all I have to say about that. :)
Song of the day: "Heartlines" by Florence + the Machine
Drymen to Aberfoyle: "Piu mosso"
Distance: 11 miles
Start: 8:50am
Finish: 1:45pm
Weather: Partly cloudy in the morning, drizzly in the afternoon
On to the second long-distance path of the trip! I caught a commuter train from Glasgow to Alexandria this morning, and then a bus from Alexandria to Drymen. As far as I know there is no monolith or anything to mark the beginning/end of the Rob Roy Way in Drymen - just a National Cycle Route signpost with a Rob Roy Way blaze on it. I got someone to take my photo and cracked on.
There was bumper-to-bumper foot traffic on the road north out of Drymen. Most of the other walkers were making their way back to the West Highland Way, and after the intersection of the two trails I had the path almost to myself, except for a Scottish couple who I leapfrogged with for most of the morning.
I recalled this being a fairly nondescript day, and my recollection was correct. The path is entirely on minor roads and forestry tracks today, which are uncomfortable underfoot, and the views are okay but nothing to write home about. Still, I lounged by Corrie Aqueduct (which appeared to be leaking?) at lunchtime until a cloud went in front of the sun and I realized I'd better press on if I didn't want to get rained on. I did get rained on, just a little bit. But I still got to Kirkton early enough to have a wander around the cemetery, killing some time until I could check in at the Forth Inn in Aberfoyle.
I'm congratulating myself on my weight loss once again! This day was much easier than it was when I did the Rob Roy Way four years ago. My body is suffering a little bit, though. My knees are complaining again, and when I undressed to have a bath I discovered that I had picked up a tick! It must have attached itself to my leg when I stepped off the path to answer nature's call, because that's the only time my legs were uncovered all day. I was impressed with how I handled it: I calmly got the tweezers out of the small first aid kit I've been carrying all trip, got the tick to detach on the fifth or sixth try, and only freaked out about it afterward!
Song of the day: "Waly Waly" - Scottish traditional
***
Saturday 11 May 2019
Aberfoyle to Callander: "I guess this is the right way?
Distance: 9.5 miles
Start: 10:20am
Finish: 3:45pm
Weather: Sunny
I got a purposely late start this morning, because I'd told my Airbnb host in Callander that I wouldn't be there until sometime after 5pm. The Forth Inn doesn't start serving breakfast until 9am anyway, which I think is absurdly late.
Last night's dinner of chips with curry sauce was talking back in a BIG way, so I popped into a pharmacy for some ranitidine on my way out of town and then tried to re-find the trail. This section of the Rob Roy Way suffers from an egregious lack of waymarking, and the waymarkers that do exist are vague. The waymarker that I assume is supposed to point up the hill to Dounans Camp appears to point into someone's back garden instead. But after a little bit of head-scratching and map-consulting, I was on my way.
It was a GORGEOUS day today. Sunny and almost the perfect temperature. It took me five and a half hours to travel a little over nine miles today, not because of any difficulty with the terrain, but because I kept stopping to admire the view! I climbed up the shoulder of the Menteith Hills and crossed a sheep pasture, stopping by a burn at the far end to have a snack and admire the view some more. I was dislodged from my spot by a large group of kids with their chaperones, presumably out for the day, and continued past a lochan jumping with fish. Then I wended and descended my way along Loch Venachar, marveling at the views across to Ben Ledi and (I think) the Loch Earn Munros beyond. When I got to the lochside I stopped for a good long while at one of the picnic areas. I was on pace to get to Callander early despite my late departure from Aberfoyle, so I decided I'd rather kill time looking at the pretty loch than loitering around Callander.
Eventually I bestirred myself, gave my boots a quick wash in the loch, and pushed on. There were lots of people out enjoying the fine day: playing by the loch, barbecuing, etc. Someone's dog growled at me, which was disconcerting.
I walked into Callander at 3:45pm and happened to meet my Airbnb host on the street. He let me in early - what a gent.
Song of the day: "Sultans of Swing" by Dire Straits
***
Sunday 12 May 2019
Callander to Strathyre: "Happiness is..."
Distance: 9 miles
Start: 9:30am
Finish: 2:15pm
Weather: Sunny
The day dawned almost cloudless. I found a place on Callander's high street that was open for breakfast, and finished my meal just as a tour bus disgorged its passengers onto the premises.
I got a photo of Ben Ledi from the bridge over the River Teith and then began the day's walk. This was my favorite day when I did the Rob Roy Way in 2015, and it was every bit as enjoyable as I remembered. More so, because it was sunny and mild today instead of sleeting! I followed the riverside track out of Callander and toward Ben Ledi, and for a mad moment as I approached the foot of the hill I considered climbing it. I cam to my senses and decided against it (not with the heavy rucksack), but clearly lots of other people had decided that this was a day to be up a hill - the parking lot was absolutely slammed full.
I stopped briefly at the forest cafe for a scone, an elderflower soda, and a toilet break, and then continued on. As I drew alongside Loch Lubnaig, I thought how nice it would be to find a nice spot by the lochside and just relax for a while. Just then, I spotted a little side trail going down to the shore. Don't mind if I do! I took my boots off for a toe-dip in the loch (cold!) and then just basked like a lizard in the sun for nearly an hour. It was barely noon, I was already halfway to Strathyre, and it was just too nice a day to be in a hurry.
After a while the wind picked up and it got slightly chilly by the lochside, so I took that as a sign to move on. The path climbed higher, affording even better views, and I just ambled along with the goofiest smile on my face. I was still smiling when I reached Strathyre, despite the fact that I'd seen no fewer than four signs saying "Strathyre - 1 mile" over the preceding two miles or so.
Song of the day: 4th movement from The Ninth Symphony by Ludwig van Beethoven
***
Monday 13 May 2019
Strathyre to Killin: "Butterflies"
Distance: 13 miles
Start: 9:20am
Finish: 3:00pm
Weather: Sunny and warm
I got a later start than I intended this morning. First my bed was sooo comfortable that I didn't want to get up, so I was later than I intended going down to breakfast. Then the breakfast craic with the hosts and the other guests was good, so I lingered a while. I highly recommend Airlie House B&B to anyone passing through Strathyre - easily in my top 3 favorite accommodations of this trip.
I had a bit of an "oops" leaving Strathyre. I set off on the track running along the west side of the road, wondering where on earth the right-hand turn that was supposed to take me up into the trees was. I finally pulled the map out and discovered that I'd missed the turn some way back, but also that this track would eventually rejoin the Rob Roy Way, so no serious harm done in the end.
The path rambled on to Lochearnhead, zigzagging up to meet the disused railway line through Glen Ogle. It was another warm, sunny day, and the views were lovely. I found a nice flat boulder a little short of Glen Ogle Viaduct to sit and eat my lunch on, my encounter with the tick having made me gun-shy about venturing into long grass. Then I continued on past a lochan to the Glen Ogle Snack Van. The van was open for business, but as I'd only just eaten lunch, I settled for topping up my water and a Snickers bar. Then I just had the final four miles through the forest before reaching Killin. The forest seemed to go on for a long time, but I put my MP3 player on and just concentrated on blasting out the miles until I got to the Falls of Dochart.
I saw lots of cyclists today but nary another walker.
Song of the day: 3rd movement from Spring by Antonio Vivaldi
***
Tuesday 14 May 2019
Killin to Ardtalnaig: "We might as well be on Mars!"
Distance: 12 miles
Start: 9:55am
Finish: 4:25pm
Weather: Sunny and hot
The climb out of Killin was as I remembered it: long and sweaty. The sun beat down relentlessly all day. Forestry land is not my favorite landscape to walk through, but I found myself looking forward to getting into the cool shade of every pine plantation I saw today. I had lots of company today: the Scottish couple I had met on the first day, plus an Australian couple and a French couple, leaving me as the lone seventh wheel.
Through the gate and across undulating moorland to the hydro dam. I stopped at the dam to drink water and squint at my map, because I thought I might like to try and bag Creag Gharbh, a Graham which the Rob Roy Way passes right by, today. Onward to the hairpin turn in the path that would bring me closest to the summit, and I saw my mistake: the slope was far too steep to ascend from this direction. Looking back toward the dam I could see the line I should have taken, but I didn't particularly want to double back, so Creag Gharbh will remain unbagged for the time being. Oh well.
A gentle descent down to the pipeline, then across the bog to Ardeonaig on Loch Tay. The fine weather of the last four days has gone a long way toward drying up the bog, and it was much easier going than the last time I came this way. Then relentless tarmac to Ardtalnaig. I was a tired, sunburned, and thirsty walker toiling up the South Loch Tay road. Passing motorists seemed to be sympathetic - they all seemed to wait for me to give the little "I'm okay" wave before continuing on their way.
Finally to Holly Cottage and my home for the night: a camping pod in the back garden, complete with kitchenette, wet room, and TV. Early to bed tonight.
Song of the day: "New Wild West" by Jewel
***
Wednesday 15 May 2019
Ardtalnaig to Aberfeldy: "Pine forests are nature's air conditioners."
Distance: 15 miles
Start: 8:30am
Finish: 5:00pm
Weather: Sunny and warm
My arms got quite sunburned yesterday, so I tried to get an early start this morning so that I could walk in long sleeves for as long as possible. The day began with four or five miles of tarmac pounding to Acharn. Then a right-hand turn to leave the road and climb up to the Falls of Acharn. This was where I stopped last time, so I was quite pleased to be pushing on, and the view of the falls was the reward.
The French couple and the Scottish couple caught up with me at the Falls of Acharn (the Australian couple were doing the Amulree loop today so I didn't see them again), which was handy because the French couple and I were mystified about which direction to take from the falls to get to the Queen's Drive. Luckily the Scottish couple knew, having done the trail before. The next few miles were on a pleasant, grassy path that contoured around the hillside and gave great views of Kenmore down below. Then the path went through forestry land for a bit. I was actually relieved to see the pine plantations, because I've discovered on this trail that pine forests are natural air conditioners: the trees actually seem to exhale cold air. I experienced a new walking surface: steamrolled rocks. It looked like the path was maybe waiting to be paved with tarmac - I certainly hope not.
For a while I'd been following signposts that said "Path to Aberfeldy X miles." They, combined with the views of Aberfeldy drawing ever closer, got my hopes up that the end of the day was near. These hopes were summarily dashed when I saw one of these signposts pointing one way and a Rob Roy Way marker pointing another. The trail, which had been descending toward Aberfeldy for a while, abruptly turned away from Aberfeldy and began ascending again, which was incredibly frustrating. I shortly found out why. The Rob Roy Way takes a circuitous route into Aberfeldy in order to go through a gorge called the Birks of Aberfeldy. Then it takes a circuitous route through the Birks. The Birks of Aberfeldy are admittedly very pretty, and the Falls of Moness might actually be more impressive than the Falls of Acharn. But I spent the whole walk through the Birks thinking "This is nice. I wish I were less tired, less hungry, less hot, and less in pain, so I could enjoy it more."
I finally popped out into the Aberfeldy town center and walked up and down the street my Airbnb was on, trying to find it. Two local women finally took pity on my and pointed it out. I was in near-hysterics from the length and heat of the day when I came through the door, but my hostess was very kind.
Song of the day: "Future Man" by Strength in Numbers
***
Thursday 16 May 2019
Aberfeldy to Pitlochry: "Bluebell fields and border collies"
Distance: 9 miles
Start: 8:20am
Finish: 1:40pm
Weather: Sunny
Last day, let's go let's go! I began following the road east out of Aberfeldy, and stopped about ten minutes into the day's walk to get a haggis roll for breakfast. Suitably fueled, I continued onward, bearing left onto a footpath following the River Tay.
I followed the River Tay all the way to Grandtully, and it was my favorite part of the day. The morning was cool, the path was level and comfortable underfoot, and the river was picturesque. The only thing that momentarily disturbed my groove was a border collie, which came tearing around a corner and toward me, tail wagging, tongue lolling, and leash trailing. It hugged me and gave me an exuberant kiss-attack. At length I was able to pry it off me and herd it ahead of me, back in the direction it came from and where its owners presumably were. Its owners were indeed at the far end of a field a little further along, calling for it.
I had intended to stop for a break in Grandtully. However, I arrived there at the same time as a big Rolls-Royce convention, and the only place that was open for food at the time was quickly overwhelmed. Annoyed, and not wanting to wait an hour for the only other eatery in town to open at noon, I walked on.
I crossed the river and began the long climb out of the Tay valley. It is an unrelenting climb along a golf course and through a sprawling gorse thicket, but the view from the top is amazing. A brief break at the top for water, and then I began the gentler descent down to the River Tummel. Forest track gave way to dirt road, dusty from six days of relentless sunshine. A dash across the A9, over the pedestrian bridge across the River Tummel, and I was on the outskirts of Pitlochry. All that was left was a quick walk through the woods to the town center, and to the war memorial which marks the end of the Rob Roy Way.
And so I have finished it! I love this trail, especially the section between Aberfoyle and Killin. And that's all I have to say about that. :)
Song of the day: "Heartlines" by Florence + the Machine
Sunday, June 23, 2019
Glasgow and Ben Lomond
Tuesday 7 May 2019
Happy birthday Baby Sussex!
Took the train from Newcastle to Glasgow today, after a much more restful night's sleep at the Albatross. The bank holiday weekend revelers seemed to have cleared out, and the hostel was practically a ghost town. What contrast!
The train journey took a lot out of me and I'm not sure why. Maybe the fact that I subsisted mostly on coffee and sweets today had something to do with it. I feel a bit restored after having a big hamburger for dinner.
Anyway, the cold snap that hit on the day I walked to Heddon-on-the-Wall is persisting. I let myself into my Airbnb host's flat and spent the afternoon shivering under a thin blanket on the sofa, feeling like I would never be warm again. I don't think I've felt an outdoor temperature warmer than 50 degrees Fahrenheit in over a week. Fortunately I eventually figured out how to turn on the heater in my room, so at least I'll have a warm night tonight.
***
Thursday 9 May 2019
I got up very early yesterday to catch the 5:20am train to Arrochar & Tarbet. Then I loitered around the Tarbet pier for two hours until it was time for the water taxi to Rowardennan. It was so early in the morning that nothing in Tarbet was open yet, so I paced around trying to keep warm and occasionally looking across Loch Lomond at Ben Lomond with some trepidation.
At last it was 8:45am and time for the boat! Ten or so of us boarded, most of us dressed for hillwalking, so it seemed like we all had the same idea: Climb Ben Lomond and be back down in time for the return journey to Tarbet, seven hours later.
We landed at Rowardennan and everyone took off - some toward the Ptarmigan Ridge, some (including me) toward the tourist path. A stiff wind had been blowing across Loch Lomond for most of the morning, but on the lower slopes of Ben Lomond it was calmer. The path up Ben Lomond was much the same as I remembered it from my first attempt to climb this hill in May 2012: rough underfoot in places but mostly manageable, with gentle stretches interspersing the steeper sections at well-time intervals. Mindful that I needed to be back at the jetty by the SYHA hostel by 4:45pm and that it would almost certainly take me longer to come down the hill than to go up, I decided to climb for three hours and then assess where I was and how much further I had to go.
The problem with this plan became obvious when I reached cloud level. Once I was up in the clouds, I could no longer see further than about 10 meters ahead of me, and I couldn't see above me at all. Which meant I had no way to judge how far I was from the top. Additionally, as I gained elevation, the temperature dropped and the wind picked back up and gained strength. Eventually I was struggling through gale-force winds.
Then I reached snow level, which came as a surprise. With the top of the hill hidden in clouds, I had no idea there was snow near the top until I got there. The snow was only in small patches on the grass beside the trail at first, but I had no winter equipment with me, and its mere presence meant that the temperature had to be below freezing. I tried to push on for a few more minutes, but my hands (gloveless, and exposed to hold my trekking poles) were really beginning to suffer. The wind was getting even stronger. Then I met a dude coming down from the top, and he told me I probably had about 40 more minutes of climbing to get to the top.
I looked at my watch - it was not quite noon. 40 more minutes would have been doable but cutting it close in good weather. In this weather? Nah. I made the decision to turn around.
I began to inch my way down the hill. My hands were absolutely red and burning, but I consoled myself with the knowledge that the fact they were red and burning meant they still had bloodflow. As I continued to make my way down and lost elevation, the wind gradually weakened and the air got warmer. Normal feeling returned to my hands. It had evidently been raining below cloud level and the rocks I had climbed earlier were now wet, but I successfully negotiated them with only a little butt-surfing.
I reached the bottom a little after 3pm. If I had tried for the summit I would've had to run for the boat. As it was, I had time to shuffle into the Clansman for a baked potato and a pot of tea to warm up.
We were a cold, wet, and tired group at the hostel jetty. A Canadian woman named Andrea who I'd seen on the boat that morning showed me her photos of the summit: It was under at least six inches of snow, and one side of the summit trig point was covered cartoonishly in horizontal icicles. I was now secure in the knowledge that I'd done the right thing by turning around when I did.
I had two hours to kill until my train back to Glasgow, and Andrea had two hours to kill until her bus back to Balloch, so we had dinner together at the hotel in Tarbet (excellent spaghetti bolognese). While using their toilet, I got a look at myself in the mirror and was horrified at how windburned my face was!
Eventually Andrea and I parted ways and I trudged up the road to the station. I still had about 20 minutes before the train was due, so I settled under the platform shelter to wait. And I realized that for the first time all day, the wind was gone. The evening was still. Birds chirped in the trees, settling in for the night. I could smell woodsmoke from a neighboring house. What had been a cold and endurance-testing day was turning into that peculiarly Scottish late spring evening that is full of promise, as if the world is taking deep, centering breaths in preparation for something exciting and unknown...
Happy birthday Baby Sussex!
Took the train from Newcastle to Glasgow today, after a much more restful night's sleep at the Albatross. The bank holiday weekend revelers seemed to have cleared out, and the hostel was practically a ghost town. What contrast!
The train journey took a lot out of me and I'm not sure why. Maybe the fact that I subsisted mostly on coffee and sweets today had something to do with it. I feel a bit restored after having a big hamburger for dinner.
Anyway, the cold snap that hit on the day I walked to Heddon-on-the-Wall is persisting. I let myself into my Airbnb host's flat and spent the afternoon shivering under a thin blanket on the sofa, feeling like I would never be warm again. I don't think I've felt an outdoor temperature warmer than 50 degrees Fahrenheit in over a week. Fortunately I eventually figured out how to turn on the heater in my room, so at least I'll have a warm night tonight.
***
Thursday 9 May 2019
I got up very early yesterday to catch the 5:20am train to Arrochar & Tarbet. Then I loitered around the Tarbet pier for two hours until it was time for the water taxi to Rowardennan. It was so early in the morning that nothing in Tarbet was open yet, so I paced around trying to keep warm and occasionally looking across Loch Lomond at Ben Lomond with some trepidation.
At last it was 8:45am and time for the boat! Ten or so of us boarded, most of us dressed for hillwalking, so it seemed like we all had the same idea: Climb Ben Lomond and be back down in time for the return journey to Tarbet, seven hours later.
We landed at Rowardennan and everyone took off - some toward the Ptarmigan Ridge, some (including me) toward the tourist path. A stiff wind had been blowing across Loch Lomond for most of the morning, but on the lower slopes of Ben Lomond it was calmer. The path up Ben Lomond was much the same as I remembered it from my first attempt to climb this hill in May 2012: rough underfoot in places but mostly manageable, with gentle stretches interspersing the steeper sections at well-time intervals. Mindful that I needed to be back at the jetty by the SYHA hostel by 4:45pm and that it would almost certainly take me longer to come down the hill than to go up, I decided to climb for three hours and then assess where I was and how much further I had to go.
The problem with this plan became obvious when I reached cloud level. Once I was up in the clouds, I could no longer see further than about 10 meters ahead of me, and I couldn't see above me at all. Which meant I had no way to judge how far I was from the top. Additionally, as I gained elevation, the temperature dropped and the wind picked back up and gained strength. Eventually I was struggling through gale-force winds.
Then I reached snow level, which came as a surprise. With the top of the hill hidden in clouds, I had no idea there was snow near the top until I got there. The snow was only in small patches on the grass beside the trail at first, but I had no winter equipment with me, and its mere presence meant that the temperature had to be below freezing. I tried to push on for a few more minutes, but my hands (gloveless, and exposed to hold my trekking poles) were really beginning to suffer. The wind was getting even stronger. Then I met a dude coming down from the top, and he told me I probably had about 40 more minutes of climbing to get to the top.
I looked at my watch - it was not quite noon. 40 more minutes would have been doable but cutting it close in good weather. In this weather? Nah. I made the decision to turn around.
I began to inch my way down the hill. My hands were absolutely red and burning, but I consoled myself with the knowledge that the fact they were red and burning meant they still had bloodflow. As I continued to make my way down and lost elevation, the wind gradually weakened and the air got warmer. Normal feeling returned to my hands. It had evidently been raining below cloud level and the rocks I had climbed earlier were now wet, but I successfully negotiated them with only a little butt-surfing.
I reached the bottom a little after 3pm. If I had tried for the summit I would've had to run for the boat. As it was, I had time to shuffle into the Clansman for a baked potato and a pot of tea to warm up.
We were a cold, wet, and tired group at the hostel jetty. A Canadian woman named Andrea who I'd seen on the boat that morning showed me her photos of the summit: It was under at least six inches of snow, and one side of the summit trig point was covered cartoonishly in horizontal icicles. I was now secure in the knowledge that I'd done the right thing by turning around when I did.
I had two hours to kill until my train back to Glasgow, and Andrea had two hours to kill until her bus back to Balloch, so we had dinner together at the hotel in Tarbet (excellent spaghetti bolognese). While using their toilet, I got a look at myself in the mirror and was horrified at how windburned my face was!
Eventually Andrea and I parted ways and I trudged up the road to the station. I still had about 20 minutes before the train was due, so I settled under the platform shelter to wait. And I realized that for the first time all day, the wind was gone. The evening was still. Birds chirped in the trees, settling in for the night. I could smell woodsmoke from a neighboring house. What had been a cold and endurance-testing day was turning into that peculiarly Scottish late spring evening that is full of promise, as if the world is taking deep, centering breaths in preparation for something exciting and unknown...
Saturday, June 22, 2019
Hadrian's Wall, part 3 of 3
Saturday 4 May 2019
Portgate to Heddon-on-the-Wall: "Freeze/Thaw Cycles"
Distance: 10 miles
Start: 10:00am
Finish: 3:30pm
Weather: Partly cloudy, windy, and cold
If I ever do Hadrian's Wall again, I will NOT be staying in Corbridge. The OS map in the Cicerone guidebook makes it look quite close to Portgate, but it is in fact a hair-raising two-and-a-half mile walk away along the A68. Never again. I sat at a picnic table at the Errington Arms cafe to gather my frayed nerves and give my left shoulder a brief respite, since it's begun to protest a bit, particularly when going uphill. Then I struck out eastward, just before 10am.
Much like yesterday, the trail ran parallel to the B6318 for most of the day. Unlike yesterday, the path was actually below road-level for long stretches. Cars were passing at my eye-level. I suspect the trail is actually in the Roman vallum for some stretches here. Blue sky was visible all day and the sun came out periodically, but a vicious northerly wind blew for most of the day and I was COLD. I took a leisurely 75-minute break at the Robin Hood Inn to eat lunch and warm up.
The wind continued to howl as I crossed Whittledene Reservoir and passed through Harlow Hill. Once in a while the wind would drop, the sun would come out, and it would actually get warm for a few minutes...but then the wind would inevitably whip up again. And so the freeze/thaw cycles continued all the way to Heddon-on-the-Wall.
I must be near Newcastle Airport, because I spent the afternoon watching airplanes on approach above me.
Song of the day: "Cloudbusting" by Kate Bush
***
Sunday 5 May 2019
Heddon-on-the-Wall to Newcastle: "My kingdom for a boat!"
Distance: 10 miles
Start: 8:45am
Finish: 1:00pm
Weather: Overcast, but warmer than yesterday
It was downhill all the way to the Tyne valley floor first thing this morning. A very short stretch through the woods near a golf course marked the end of any soft conditions underfoot: it was pavement-pounding the rest of the way. I stopped briefly in Newburn to eat a muffin and admire the view of the River Tyne. Several people were out rowing. I thought how nice it would be to commandeer a boat and just let the current carry me the rest of the way Wallsend...I resumed walking, through Newcastle's western suburbs and to the quayside, where I called it a day.
I'm spending the next two nights at Albatross Hostel in Newcastle and I already hate it. I booked a room to myself, but there is a stag party down the hall who've been drinking, hooting, and hollering since lunchtime. But I was able to use the hostel's laundry facilities this afternoon, so at least I've got clean clothes now. Still, the first thing I'm going to do when I have a reliable internet connection again is cancel my hostel in Inverness and book something more highbrow. I am too old for this shit.
Just the last few miles to Wallsend tomorrow!
Song of the day: "One night as I lay on my bed" - English traditional
***
Monday 6 May 2019
Newcastle to Wallsend: "Coda"
Distance: 4 miles
Start: 6:15am
Finish: 8:00am
Weather: Drizzle turning to rain
The stag party got in at about 4:30 this morning. After about 45 minutes I gave up all hope of getting back to sleep and got up. After doing some internet work in the hostel's lounge, I headed for the quayside and was back where I left off yesterday by 6:15.
Newcastle Quayside at dawn on a bank holiday weekend is a grim place indeed. I understand the reasoning behind doing this walk westbound now. While there are a couple of attractive stretches running alongside the Tyne, these last few miles mostly go through unattractive industrial estates before finishing right behind the museum at Segedunum. It's honestly a bit of a letdown. Passing through the (in my opinion) much more attractive city of Carlisle before finishing in Bowness would make for a better ending. Furthermore, the museum at Segedunum wasn't even open yet when I got there, so my arrival at the finish was solitary and unheralded.
I took the metro back to Newcastle and made my way back to the hostel, stopping off at Starbucks and Yo! Sushi for some celebratory coffee and food. AND to warm up. I foolishly walked in my jeans this morning and they were soaked and cold. By the time I got back to the hostel the stag party was thankfully gone, and the only noise I had to contend with as I napped was the housekeeping staff yelling at each other in Somali.
After my nap, I took the metro back out to Wallsend, determined to have my "Woo!" moment with the museum staff. That accomplished, I had some Vietnamese food for dinner and am now back at the hostel, contemplating my belongings. Tomorrow it's on to Glasgow.
Hadrian's Wall is a lot of fun and I enjoyed it immensely, but if I ever do it again I will do it westbound and in fewer days - probably 7 rather than 9. It's also been an amazing demonstration of what my new body is capable of!
Song of the day: "Mercy Street" by Peter Gabriel
Portgate to Heddon-on-the-Wall: "Freeze/Thaw Cycles"
Distance: 10 miles
Start: 10:00am
Finish: 3:30pm
Weather: Partly cloudy, windy, and cold
If I ever do Hadrian's Wall again, I will NOT be staying in Corbridge. The OS map in the Cicerone guidebook makes it look quite close to Portgate, but it is in fact a hair-raising two-and-a-half mile walk away along the A68. Never again. I sat at a picnic table at the Errington Arms cafe to gather my frayed nerves and give my left shoulder a brief respite, since it's begun to protest a bit, particularly when going uphill. Then I struck out eastward, just before 10am.
Much like yesterday, the trail ran parallel to the B6318 for most of the day. Unlike yesterday, the path was actually below road-level for long stretches. Cars were passing at my eye-level. I suspect the trail is actually in the Roman vallum for some stretches here. Blue sky was visible all day and the sun came out periodically, but a vicious northerly wind blew for most of the day and I was COLD. I took a leisurely 75-minute break at the Robin Hood Inn to eat lunch and warm up.
The wind continued to howl as I crossed Whittledene Reservoir and passed through Harlow Hill. Once in a while the wind would drop, the sun would come out, and it would actually get warm for a few minutes...but then the wind would inevitably whip up again. And so the freeze/thaw cycles continued all the way to Heddon-on-the-Wall.
I must be near Newcastle Airport, because I spent the afternoon watching airplanes on approach above me.
Song of the day: "Cloudbusting" by Kate Bush
***
Sunday 5 May 2019
Heddon-on-the-Wall to Newcastle: "My kingdom for a boat!"
Distance: 10 miles
Start: 8:45am
Finish: 1:00pm
Weather: Overcast, but warmer than yesterday
It was downhill all the way to the Tyne valley floor first thing this morning. A very short stretch through the woods near a golf course marked the end of any soft conditions underfoot: it was pavement-pounding the rest of the way. I stopped briefly in Newburn to eat a muffin and admire the view of the River Tyne. Several people were out rowing. I thought how nice it would be to commandeer a boat and just let the current carry me the rest of the way Wallsend...I resumed walking, through Newcastle's western suburbs and to the quayside, where I called it a day.
I'm spending the next two nights at Albatross Hostel in Newcastle and I already hate it. I booked a room to myself, but there is a stag party down the hall who've been drinking, hooting, and hollering since lunchtime. But I was able to use the hostel's laundry facilities this afternoon, so at least I've got clean clothes now. Still, the first thing I'm going to do when I have a reliable internet connection again is cancel my hostel in Inverness and book something more highbrow. I am too old for this shit.
Just the last few miles to Wallsend tomorrow!
Song of the day: "One night as I lay on my bed" - English traditional
***
Monday 6 May 2019
Newcastle to Wallsend: "Coda"
Distance: 4 miles
Start: 6:15am
Finish: 8:00am
Weather: Drizzle turning to rain
The stag party got in at about 4:30 this morning. After about 45 minutes I gave up all hope of getting back to sleep and got up. After doing some internet work in the hostel's lounge, I headed for the quayside and was back where I left off yesterday by 6:15.
Newcastle Quayside at dawn on a bank holiday weekend is a grim place indeed. I understand the reasoning behind doing this walk westbound now. While there are a couple of attractive stretches running alongside the Tyne, these last few miles mostly go through unattractive industrial estates before finishing right behind the museum at Segedunum. It's honestly a bit of a letdown. Passing through the (in my opinion) much more attractive city of Carlisle before finishing in Bowness would make for a better ending. Furthermore, the museum at Segedunum wasn't even open yet when I got there, so my arrival at the finish was solitary and unheralded.
I took the metro back to Newcastle and made my way back to the hostel, stopping off at Starbucks and Yo! Sushi for some celebratory coffee and food. AND to warm up. I foolishly walked in my jeans this morning and they were soaked and cold. By the time I got back to the hostel the stag party was thankfully gone, and the only noise I had to contend with as I napped was the housekeeping staff yelling at each other in Somali.
After my nap, I took the metro back out to Wallsend, determined to have my "Woo!" moment with the museum staff. That accomplished, I had some Vietnamese food for dinner and am now back at the hostel, contemplating my belongings. Tomorrow it's on to Glasgow.
Hadrian's Wall is a lot of fun and I enjoyed it immensely, but if I ever do it again I will do it westbound and in fewer days - probably 7 rather than 9. It's also been an amazing demonstration of what my new body is capable of!
Song of the day: "Mercy Street" by Peter Gabriel
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