South of Scotland Way: the Missing Link

Galashiels –Milngavie, 6 – 10^th June 2017

Introduction

Almost 20 years ago Mike and I had set out from Minehead with a plan to walk round Land’s End on the South West Coast Path. In 5-day annual jaunts of 100 miles a time, we completed our objective and then continued northwards using long distance footpaths to John O’Groats. Via the Macmillan, Mid-shires, Pennine and St Cuthbert Ways, we got to Galashiels. Mike then missed a year through illness before he re-joined me at Milngavie the following year to use parts of the West Highland and Rob Roy Ways and the old drove and military roads across the Highlands all the way to the north coast. So Mike needed to complete the missing link. I accompanied him on the condition that we chose a different route across the South of Scotland to the one I had walked in 2012.

So Jill took us, her annual pilgrimage, down to the station for our train to Edinburgh where we used the newly reopened Waverley line to Galashiels. Here we stayed at Craigielea B&B on Lawyers Brae and ate at the Salmon Inn, sausage & mash followed by sticky toffee pudding. We found a lovely real ale, Summer Buzz (3.8%) from Box Steam Brewery in Wiltshire.

Tuesday 6^th June 2017          Galashiels – Peebles

Southern Upland Way and Cross Borders Drove Road

The forecast was dismal so we were fully togged up as we, just before 9am, left our digs and weaved our way up the hill onto the Southern Upland Way which skirts round the south of the town. Little did I know that I would be carrying an open umbrella for every minute of the day, except where the wind threatened to demolish it. The weather got progressively worse as we crossed over a low ridge to the Tweed Valley and then up the big climb from Yair to the Three Brethren. Here we donned full winter gear. So much for waiting for summer. We walked into a stiff cold wind along the high and exposed ridge over to Trachair by which time I was soaked, battered and rather dispirited.

A mile of sheltered road gave us a brief respite for the weather but we were soon embarking on a rough climb following the line of the Cross Borders Drove Road. I needed a sugar-fix to get me up and over the col which was a long traverse into what was now a raging storm. This led us onto a long narrow ridge that pointed us down to Peebles. On a better day this would be a highlight in anyone’s walking calendar but today it was a survival mission. Slowly, slowly we dropped into town and then onwards through endless suburbs to the bridge over the Tweed. At our b&b our landlady stood ready to collect our soaking clothes and hang them on her kitchen rack. She said later that she had never experienced clothes so wet as mine. We felt warmed and stronger after a shower and cup of tea but the rain was not relenting outside and we walked to the pub in sandals and bare feet so as to prevent our spare clothes from getting wet as well. A month’s rainfall fell that day in the Borders.

Galashiels dep. 08.57, Peebles arr. 17.01

GPS 22.80 miles in 8hrs 4mins 26secs: the conditions were too bad for stopping.

We stayed at Lindores Guest House in Old Town, Peebles. The Crown on High Street provided a good meal of chicken stuffed with haggis and I topped up with sticky toffee pudding again. The beer was Belhaven Bitter.

Wednesday 7^th June 2017                 Peebles - Biggar

The John Buchan Way

It was a much better day, sunny and dry with a biting wind that dried the sodden countryside. We got a leisurely start as it promised to be an easier day. We planned to follow the John Buchan Way for its entire length to Broughton. We readily found the correct way out of Peebles and had just come out of a wooded area and were starting to climb through open fields when we had the most amazing of coincidences A lone figure, repairing a wall, was Roger, an old friend and running mate who had left my home town maybe 15 years ago. I had never seen him since nor had any idea where he had resettled. What are the chances, throughout the entire Scottish Borders of me bumping in to him? Although I suppose that if he is to stand all day on a long distance footpath, then it would be inevitable.

The official path contoured below Cademuir Hill but the route over the top looked very tempting. A gale threatened to blow us over the steep edge as we traversed the hill to its westernmost point where we descended steeply back onto the marked trail. A second climb took us over another ridge and down to Stobo, a quiet little hamlet with a lovely church. A delightful wooded valley alongside Easton Burn took us to the foot of the last climb and here we sat on a bench in front of a ruined farmhouse to have a quick sandwich. Then we ascended into a fabulous group of hills and a series of tracks and paths that led us through some magnificent country. The gusting wind made it very exciting as we gained the final col and turned southwards down Hollows Burn to Broughton. A man walking his dog in the lower reaches of the valley was the only person we saw on the entire crossing.

We turned onto the main road through Broughton and, joy of joys, there was a tea shop. Coffee and cakes were quickly demolished and we received the welcome news that we did not have to walk down the road into Biggar. The old railway line was now an established footpath. All we had to do was to find Broughton Brewery and the route was signed. I have an instinct for this sort of thing so we were soon motoring at nearly four miles an hour on a pleasant but flat route across pretty countryside. In no time at all, it seemed, we were turning across the golf course and into town passed the school. This route came out right opposite our hotel and a great day’s walking was complete.

Peebles dep. 09.13, Biggar arr. 16.57  

GPS 19.27 miles in 6hrs 53mins 13secs walking time plus a 20 minute break near Stobo and a 20 minute café stop in Laurel Bank Tea Shop in Broughton.

We stayed at the Elphinstone Hotel in Biggar where I devoured pork & black pudding stack and an apple crumble sundae. The ale was Jaguar (4.5%) from the Kelburn Brewery in Barrhead, one of my all-time favourites.

Thursday 8^th June 2017        Biggar – New Lanark

Election Day Special

The weather forecast was not good, but if we were to have a chance of climbing Tinto, we would have to go early to avoid the worst of the rain. We had set our hearts on traversing this lovely mountain as a way of minimising the road walking on this section. But the moment we stepped outside the hotel, at just before 8.30am, the drizzle started and by the time we had walked the length of Lindsaylands Road, the clag was down on the hills and the rain was getting heavier. The prospect of walking down the A72 to Symington, with little likelihood of gaining the top of Tinto, was rather depressing so we change our minds and our route.

We abandoned our plans for the off-road traverse of the mountain and instead we took the Sustrans-signed lanes along the river to Thankerton. Here we crossed the Clyde and the railway line before turning right up Perryflats Road keeping parallel to the main road. After a couple of miles, as we contoured below Chester Hill, we turned sharp left and headed down a track towards Warrenhill. A mirage appeared out of the rain. There, on a wall across the road, were painted the words ‘Farm Shop & Tearoom’. Hardly believing my eyes, we followed the signs round the back of the farm to a small café and bistro. Leaving our umbrellas outside, we entered the tiny café and stripped off our sodden waterproofs. The owner did not seem to mind the puddles on the floor. He gave us an orienteering map of the Carmichael Estate and indicated the off road options ahead.

So we followed tracks and traffic-free lanes for the next two miles passing an old ruin of a castle which evidently fell prey to Oliver Cromwell. We emerged from the estate into the village of Carmichael. Then onwards through quiet lanes to the A70 and thence to the bridge across Douglas Water at Sandilands. We had spotted from the map the opportunity of accessing Bonnington Linn from Kirkfieldbank Road but were not sure whether it would go. Heading down to the river from the road corner, we were at first dismayed at seeing a high metal security gate across the track. We were relieved to see that there was a pedestrian gate to one side and we were soon crossing the weir above the Falls of Clyde. The two miles down the path beside the fall were so spectacular that we could not drag ourselves away from the viewing platforms. But it was still raining as we came round the final bend into the impressive complex of New Lanark and its mills and old houses. One of these mills was a very smart hotel and it was here that we spent the night, election night.

Biggar dep. 08.25, New Lanark arr. 15.00

GPS 16.08 miles in 5hrs 49mins 43secs walking time plus a 20min stop at Carmichael’s Tearoom near Thankerton.

The New Lanark Mill Hotel was a magnificent building in a magnificent setting, a World Heritage Site. I had fish and chips followed by warm carrot and orange cake, all slightly disappointing. The only acceptable beer was Caledonian 80/- adding to my disappointment.

Friday 9^th June 2017          New Lanark – Uddingston

Motorway Chaos on the Clyde Walkway

My disappointment with the hotel continued in the morning when we were charged for breakfast even though I had a booking that included breakfast in the advanced rate. Getting a refund took 30 precious minutes that would come home to bite us later. Our departure was further delayed by not finding any signage for the Clyde Walkway within the New Lanark village. Eventually we found a high level exit which took us on our way down the gorge passed more waterfalls and rapids. The best of these falls came after the village of Kirkfieldbank, the Stonebyres Falls. With the high volume of water thundering over through the cataract, it was the most impressive river setting I have experienced in the British Isles. The only problem was that it remained difficult to see. The path was thickly tree-lined and there were no viewing opportunities. This probably explains why it seemed relatively unvisited compared with the more touristy Falls of Clyde up-stream.  

By the time the river reached Crossford, it was out of the narrows and once more flowing gently between water meadows. The route climbed steeply over a last ridge whilst the river went round a long loop. Then we descended into the central belt of Scotland with its towns, roads and industry. The background hum from the M74 was ever present. The high rise blocks of Wishaw and Motherwell dominated the view to the right. But the return to civilisation had one advantage. As we ventured into Strathclyde Country Park we found a tearoom in the Water Centre. So rather late in the day we had our first break, not knowing the chaos and problems ahead.

The last phase of the day started quietly enough with a pleasant walk on roads and grassland beside the loch. But at the far end there was no indication of the Clyde Walkway. We enquired of a local the way ahead but he had no knowledge of a path. He pointed us towards the motorway complex and its adjoining hotel, mentioning a new footbridge. To a walker, the view of the motorway exit (junction 5 on the M74) was a nightmare: roundabouts and new roads with no pavements or walkways. The new footbridges were there. It was just a matter of reaching them. Mike set off to climb a newly landscaped bank of loose earth and scrambled over the metal handrails to gain the first one. This took us over to the main roundabout and into a tunnel under the motorway. Then we gained the second bridge via a long spiral which eventually led us into a network of busy dual-carriage ways and some green-man controlled crossings. We chose a dual-carriage which look to be heading in the right direction and at the end of this, we found Bothwell Bridge, our original target.

Our problems were far from over. We crossed the river, as per the map, but failed to see any exit from the cycle way that ran beside the busy road. So we ended up following the road signs for the David Livingstone Centre which took us a long way round passed Stonefield Station. It was only when we reached the river again that we saw a Clyde Walkway sign, our first for several hours. Re-crossing the Clyde on a metal footbridge, it was a relatively short walk passed Bothwell Castle and through peaceful woodland beside the river. At Uddingston High School we left the path and turned into the town and our hotel. It had been a long and frustrating day.

New Lanark dep. 09.02, Uddingston arr. 18.45

GPS 25.69 miles in 8hrs 57mins 36secs walking time plus a 20 min stop for coffee and cake in Strathclyde Water Centre.

We stayed at Redstones Hotel in Uddingston and ate in their restaurant, Il Capo. I had a marvellous beef burger and chips, washed down by Caledonian beer. The sticky toffee pudding that I had as dessert was my third of the trip. There is a definite lack of diversity in Scottish puddings.

Saturday 10^th June 2017                   Uddingston - Milngavie

Clyde and Kelvin Walkways

The hotel did not start breakfasts until 9am at weekends. This was a problem for us. A long day was on the cards and, with a train to catch, we had planned for the earliest departure of the week. The manager, with no other staff available other than the night porter, agreed to make us breakfast himself. So, at 8am, we were sitting in the dining room with our rucksacks packed beside us, eating porridge and bacon rolls. The drizzle that we faced when we stepped outside just after 8.30am was not heavy enough to trigger waterproofs. And it was quite mild and muggy as we retrace last night’s route from the riverbank.

Crossing the metal footbridge, we followed a well-signed section of the route across waste ground and woodland edges. This was not according to the map where the land that it had originally crossed was now a huge development of new houses. Our path lay down by the river on the outside of miles of security fencing. Some red deer appeared to be caught inside the fencing but had got out before we reached the spot. Two runners came towards us on a training run and recce for the 40 mile ‘ultra’ race along the entire Clyde Walkway which was now only a month away. We saw nothing at all of Cambuslang which lay away to our left and only knew it was there from the map and fingerposts. By the time we arrived at the second river crossing of the day, we were well and truly back on tarmacked cycle ways, Sustrans routes into the city.

The next 90 minutes or so took us passed Celtic’s football ground and a greyhound stadium before we burst out into the verdant parkland of Glasgow Green. Another runner stopped and set us the mental task of finding the only US state which did not contain any of the letters in George W Bush. This kept us happily employed until we came to the busy road crossing in the city centre. Before we knew it there was the Clutha, the scene of the tragic helicopter accident. Then we were passing under Central Station and out passed the SECC and science centre. As the tall ship came into view, our route turned away from the Clyde, our companion for the last 40 miles, and over the dual-carriageway and northwards towards the university, We found the River Kelvin and came to a shield on a lamppost marking the start of the Kelvin Walkway, Round the bend was the Kelvin Hall and Kelvingrove Museum and Art Gallery. With 14.5 miles behind us, it was time for a coffee break. An organ recital was just coming to an end as we tucked into some very welcome cakes.

As we restarted, the weather was fast improving. Kelvingrove Park was just preparing for a festival and was full of families and dog walkers. We had a slight problem finding the Kelvin Walkway from the northern end but, by staying as close to the river as the streets would allow, we came back onto the official route which was signed but confusingly and inconsistently. But the further we got out of the city, the easier it was to follow. The Kelvin valley was surprising deep and wooded, a wild strip going right into the city. Near the university science park, the way took a short cut across a large loop in the river, and we only regaining the riverbank after a mile of suburban walking. But there was no more tarmac from now on, just a narrow and slippery footpath through water meadows. The clock was ticking now. We were getting conscious of the pending train departure. There was an opportunity of a short-cut, by walking up a busy and narrow A-road. The path followed the river round a long gratuitous loop. It was not a well walked section and it involved scrambling along an overgrown riverbank, slowing our progress. I was delighted and relieved to get back to the main road and then onto a good straight track that led us straight into the town of Milngavie. As usual the signage failed us and we had to carefully navigate from the map to find the station which, after 5 very hard days, we reached with 25 minutes to spare.

The trains worked perfectly and we were soon back at Glasgow Central grabbing a bite to eat before clambering rather stiffly onto a pendolino heading south. Jill once again met is from the station and took us home for a very welcome sleep in our own beds. Oh, and the American state is Indiana.

Uddingston  dep. 08.35,  Milngavie  arr. 17.15

GPS  24.80 miles in 8hrs 7mins 41 secs walking time plus 25 minutes in Kelvingrove Museum Coffee Shop.

Aftermath

In the week we walked 109 miles in generally poor weather. The rain and low clouds had frustrated our plans to climb Tinto, one of the highest hills in the South of Scotland. So we had a day of road walking in the wet.  But we loved the John Buchan Way, a very fine route through remote hills. And the upper parts of the Clyde were spectacular. The people that we met were all very chatty, welcoming and helpful, not like the more introverted country folk of the south.  So our mission is complete. Mike and I have walked the entire length of Britain together and we are still the best of friends. Is there life after LEJOG?

The Far North

Kinbrace – John O’Groats, 3^rd – 6^th June 2016
 

Introduction

Thursday 2^nd June 2016

So here we are at last, after what seems a lifetime of walking, ready for the very last leg of our epic journey. I sat at Glasgow Central eating a sandwich and waiting for Mike. I had spent the previous week with my daughter and her family in Ayr and was meeting Mike in Glasgow to head north with him to Perth and Inverness. At first I was not going to ring him. After all, I had sent him all the train bookings and the changes from the original schedule that the closure of Queen Street had brought about. But as an afterthought I gave him a quick bell. The horror of it! He had registered the change of station but not the change of times. He was sunning himself on the river bank unaware that the Perth train was just about to depart. I was standing by the barriers wondering where to leave his tickets when he raced into the station. It took me several hours to calm down.

The change of trains in Perth was smooth and uneventful, except for the lack of toilets out on the platforms. A pleasant couple kept us in conversation on the way north and  time flew by as we rattled through the Cairngorms. Timetables showed that the fastest way to get up to Helmsdale was by bus. So we walked round to the bus station and booked onto the last bus north. We were soon driving rapidly up the east coast into rather cloudy and threatening weather. All the beautiful sunshine of the west coast had been left behind. 

We stayed at Kindale House in Lilleshall Street and ate at La Mirage, a pleasant restaurant with a history (Nancy Sinclair, Barbara Cartland and TV Programmes). I had battered haddock and chips and a couple of bottles of Northern Light (4.0%) from Orkney Brewery. After our meal we walked round the village in the drizzle and stared with amazement at the yellow-coloured hillsides of gorse and broom.

 

Friday 3^rd June 2016     Kinbrace - Melvich

Flow Country

I was getting used to sunshine so it was a disappointment to wake up to cloud and drizzle. After a huge breakfast, I grabbed a sandwich from the Spar supermarket and walked up to the station to await the first train of the day. This took us to Kinbrace and the end point of last year’s expedition. The last leg of our walk was underway.

The first seven miles to Forsinard were mostly uphill. The final mile down to the station and RSPB reserve was hidden in mist. In the very early planning phase, I had hoped to use the hotel. But this had closed long ago and looks unlikely to open soon. There was a cottage next to the station that offered b&b and drinks but it did not look any livelier. The visitor centre did not offer any refreshments, just details of birding walks up to viewpoints that were today deep in wet cloud. The main feature was the number of landholdings that contained the notice ‘RSPB not welcome here’. This was obviously an organisation which was rather weak on its ‘good neighbour policy’.

Another four miles of road, this time downhill, brought us to a small parking area at Forsinain. Here we sat and ate our butties and gave our road-weary legs a short break. We then took the first opportunity to get off the road. This was a footpath marked on the map at Breacrie, two miles to the north. But this diversion was not a success. There was no sign of a route across boggy ground and rough fields. Even a high gate through a deer fence was wedged shut and had to be climbed and a rickety old bridge could only be accessed through a gorse bush. But we eventually got back onto tarmac along the west side of the river, passing Trantlemore and Upper Bighouse. It was reassuring to meet a footpath sign at the end of the lane, indicating an official route to Kirkton. However it was not easy to find and we had to turn from our first choice of track to get back on line. The path got clearer as we approached the bealach and it was a clear track on its descent to the river.

There was a cemetery in a rather remote place, a small walled enclosure on a steep bank. A sign said that it contained some Commonwealth War Graves. How strange. Kirkton was a one house hamlet so it was swiftly onwards to pass a working quarry and gain the main coast road. In half a mile we were at the pub, asking where our b&b was and organising a meal for later. Then it was on to the far end of the village of Melvich to find our accommodation for the night, a room with a view, and a delightful Swiss host.   

Kinbrace dep. 10.18, Melvich arr. 17.45   GPS 22.71 miles in 7hr 10m 36s including a 13 min lunch stop in Forsinain Car Park.

We stayed at the Shieling B&B. The meal was at the Halladale Inn where I had fish and chips again. This time though, I managed a pudding of ginger sponge and cream. The beer was bottled Dark Island (4.6%) from Orkney Brewery. Before we could settle for a session, quiz night preparations began and tables and chairs were being relocated.  We were being accosted by a most assertive lady about our taking part in the quiz. It was time to go back to the digs. As we left the pub we saw a notice about the closure of the footbridge across the river, our planned route for tomorrow.

 

Saturday 4^th June 2016       Melvich – Dunnet

From Nuclear to Wind Power

We sought advice from our landlord on the status of the footbridge across the river, the off-road and shortest option for our route for the day. He suggested that the locals were still using it but we should be careful. This proved the case. We dropped down the lane to the beach and climbed over an insubstantial wooden barrier to pass a sign asking us to cross with care.

This took us through the grounds of Bighouse and on up its access road. Then we broke out across the moor and a faint but obvious line. It did not remain obvious for long and we soon decided to abandon the off-road option and to make for the main coast road. . We spend at least five miles on this quite busy road, uphill at first, crossing our last county boundary (into Caithness) and then dropping down into the village of Reay. A shop provided a butty for the day and then we left the village passed a well-kept golf course. The white globe of Dounreay was now dominating the view towards the coast. However, rather than trail passed the nuclear facility on the main road, we chose an inland option along what appear from the map to be a narrower quieter lane (suggested cycle route). However this did not prove the case. It was a wide straight rat run that attracted fast moving vehicles looking for the same short cut. The hillside ahead of us was covered with wind turbines, most of them working quite hard in the gentle breeze. It seemed to take us an age to pass this wind farm.Our old friend, Balfour Beatty, was installing a new transmission line to get the power onto the National Grid. We later learnt that all the newly installed renewable generation was transmitted to a sub-station in the south of Caithness and then cabled under the sea to Peterhead and onwards down the Angus coast.

We rested briefly by the roadside in the village of Westfield and ate our butties. Then we had a five mile road walk into Thurso and the promise of a coffee shop. After days in the wilderness, it seemed strange to walk into a sizeable town passed shops, schools, and a hospital and railway station. We were right in the town centre before we found a café. I feasted on cappuccino and a ‘yumyum’, a chocolate-coated cake.

We walked through the pedestrianised street and enquired of a local the route to a footbridge over the river that was indicated on the map. We then made further enquiries from dog-walkers to ensure we found the coast path out of town and passed the castle. It was a relief to get back to real coast walking again. The path clung to the field edge above the rocky shoreline. A girl, walking strongly ahead, gave us confidence to stay on the low cliffs after the path came to an end. We followed her for some time before she stopped to allow us to catch her. She then explained that she was lost as well. She was a French student making a tour of Scotland after a year at an Edinburgh college. The three of us then proceeded along an increasing narrow trod until we pulled round into a sand cove, Murkle Bay. We left the young lady here and dropped onto the beach. The short cut along the water line brought us to the foot of some grassy cliffs. An awkward climb revealed that a coastal continuation was not a possibility. To make progress, we had to climb a barbed wire fence into a large field. In the end, a series of fences persuade us to abandon the coastal option and to turn inland to pick up a farm track at East Murkle. This track soon led us back to the coast and round to the tiny harbour of Castlehill and an information area on the flagstones of Caithness. A lane then led us onto the main road for the last three miles into Dunnet. The lack of conversation now indicated the tiredness we both felt as we left the shore and tramped between sand dunes and forest along the busy road. 

Melvich dep.09.00, Dunnet arr. 18.30, GPS 27.36 miles in 8hrs 47m 27s walking time plus a 20 minute lunch stop (12.50-13.10) and 20 minute in Thurso coffee shop 14.35-14.55).

We stayed at the Northern Sands Hotel in Dunnet. We ate in their restaurant and I had pressed pork belly in cider jus followed by chocolate pudding. The real ale on draught was Scapa Special (4.2%) from Swannay Brewery on Orkney. This proved an exceptional beer so I found it hard to stop at two.

Sunday 5th June 2016    Dunnet – Mey

Northernmost Point

What a beautiful day! There was not a cloud in the sky as we left the hotel after an early breakfast. Round the corner we bumped into a man, wearing a ‘disaster’ base-ball cap, who directed us onto the coast path. We proceeded passed the museum at Mary Ann’s Cottage and down to the sea at Dwarwick Bay. Then there was a spectacular path up the hillside with the white house which the Queen Mother used to visit, high up above. This path climbed along the edge of steep ground and over cliffs until it then came out on high grassland white with cotton grass. We wound our way around the west side of the headland with views of Hoy opening up ahead. Eventually the lighthouse came into view and the last mile up to it was mostly uphill. This was a magical moment as we stood in the sun and took photos. We had achieved a south-north end–to-end linking up the Lizard Point in Cornwall with Britain’s northernmost point, Dunnet Head.  It had taken quite a long time to come round the coast path so far so we abandoned ideas of continuing along the eastern cliffs and instead came down the road that took a more central line.

It was really warm now. Sheltered from the light sea breeze, we were in T-shirt and shorts as we moved inland. Back through Brough, we picked up the narrow lanes that led back to the shore at Ham, then sat in a field for 10 minutes to consume some of our emergency rations. At the Crossroads Primary School we turned down another straight road to Scarfskerry from where we could see the top of the Castle of Mey with its Saltire flag flapping in the breeze. The coffee shop at the castle was still open so we dashed in for a coffee and cake. Then I took the last tour of the castle whilst Mike guarded our rucksacks. It was only a short walk up to the main road to find our accommodation for the night.

Dunnet dep. 09.30, Mey arr. 17.70, GPS 16.40 miles in 6hr 01m 53s walking time plus a 10 min break in a field for a snack (13.45-13.55) and two hours at the Castle of Mey (15.15 – 17.15).

We stayed at the Hawthorns B&B in Mey. We ate just up the road at the Castle Arms Hotel, where I feasted on steak and wine pie and apple crumble and ice cream. The real ale was all bottled but I went through their collection of Northern Light (4.0%) and Corncrake (4.1%) from Orkney Brewery and Scapa Special (4.2%) from Swannay. 

Monday 6th June 2016    Mey – John O’Groats

In My End is My Beginning

It was not quite so pleasant this morning. There was a cloud cover that we had not experienced for several days and the breeze has a cold bite to it. We could not face a walk down the main road so we cut south down a track lined with beech hedges to gain the back road, a shorter straighter route over the Hill of Rigifa. In Upper Gills a man was watering his front garden. I commented that this was a first for the Scottish Highlands and we stopped to chat. He was a Geordie who had retired here with his wife, bought a plot of land overlooking the Pentland Firth and had built his own bungalow. Onwards we marched through the village of Canisbay and back down to the coast road. We were not on this for long. We knew there was a footpath along the shoreline but were unsure where to access it. We left it until reaching a track near a b&b and found that we could have gone down to the sea earlier. So it was only a few yards, passing some garishly-painted extensions, to the hotel and into the car park and visitors’ centre of John O’Groats. We got some tourists to take our photo in front of the famous signpost then quickly moved away from this popular spot in search of a coast path to Duncansby Head.

I popped into the reception cabin for the caravan site and was advised by a most helpful gentleman that our best route was through the caravan site and out onto the short grass above the sandy shore. He warned us of a fence crossing but there was a strategically placed stile that led out onto less grazed grassland and upwards towards the lighthouse. Very quickly we got up to the small car park in front of the lighthouse and then descended round the south side of the security fence to gain the north westerly tip of Britain and the end of LE JOG, the British end-to-end walk. It might have taken us 13 or 14 years but we had finally finished. Or so I thought until I climbed up to the trig point and the view southwards along the east coast open up in front of us. What an amazing and unexpected panorama! After days of relatively flat walking along a gentle coast, suddenly we were back in a landscape of dramatic cliffs and headlands. The central features were the great Stacks of Duncansby, two magnificent sea stacks of triangular-shaped leaning rock sticking out of cliff and seascape. The cliffs were lined with nesting and resting sea birds, probably fulmars, whilst other birds, probably razorbills or guillemots sat on the sea itself. We were drawn into this wonderful coastline and wondered along the clifftops for an hour or so before reluctantly turning our backs on the North Sea and headed back across the grassy peninsular and down to John O’Groats. Just time for a coffee and cake and then it was round to the bus stop and the end of our journey. Or was it just the start!

 

Mey dep. 09.00, John O’Groats arr. 13.30, GPS 12.84 miles in 4hrs 35m 38s walking time with lots photos in John O’Groats and sightseeing around Duncansby Head..

Aftermath

The bus dropped us near Thurso town centre. We had time for a quick sandwich. Whilst we were eating, a lady came in who was walking the end-to-end (LE JOG) in one continuous journey. She had started in March and was due to finish the following day. Jill Woodman was her name. She was from Leeds and before we parted, she left us details of her charity donation site.

We then walked up to the station in good time for the train which was more that the train was for us. An engine problem with the incoming train from Wick was such that it could only go forwards. It could not come up the branch line to Thurso and then reverse out. It was waiting for us at Georgemas Junction and we passengers were bundled into two mini buses and driven the 10 or so miles down to this junction. We were eventually settled on board and set off rather late on the long journey to Inverness. The train kept on losing time to the schedule and by the time we pulled into Inverness Station, the 34 minute connection time was down to 5 minutes. We had to dash across the platforms and get into our seats on the sleeper. For the first time today we could relax and celebrate our achievements. All I had to do was walk down to the kitchens and order a beer and a meal. I was met by a very embarrassed member of the catering staff. The train had no food or beer, no warm food, no sandwiches, no nothing. We faced a nine hour trip through the night with no food. What a miracle we had had a sandwich in Thurso or we may not have survived. We were given a free cup of tea and retreated to our seats for a long hungry night.
 

At 5.30am the train pulled into Crewe Station and we were into the buffet so quickly that we had our bacon butties before the train was on its way again. We however sat in Crewe and had our breakfast and then caught the first bus home.

Northern Highlands

Strathpeffer - Kinbrace, 30^th May – 3^rd June 2015

 

Introduction

We returned to the north of Scotland, to Strathpeffer where we have finished last year, to resume our annual pilgrimage towards John O’Groats. We had started so long ago that it was difficult to recall the number of years and all the start/finish points. In fact my daughter was still at university when we began our journey and she is now expecting her fourth child. On the way north, I had called in to spend a few days with the grandchildren and had then met Mike in Glasgow on Friday 29^th May. Together we caught the 13.41 train from Queen Street Station and, after changing at Perth and Inverness, eventually disembarked at Dingwall at 17.45 and caught the last bus towards Contin. On reaching Strathpeffer, I took Mike to the wrong hotel. Having booked at several highland hotels, I was convinced that it was the Highland Hotel here in Strathpeffer. But it wasn’t. It was the Strathpeffer Hotel next to the bus stop. This did not augur well for the more demanding navigation still to come. The dining room was filled with a coach-load of elderly Germans. But we had a pleasant meal in the bar, fish and chips, bread & butter pudding and Maclachlan’s Real Ale (served cold from a cask). Afterwards we went for a postprandial and visited the Eagle Stone at the bottom edge of the village.

 

Saturday 30^th May 2015     Stathpeffer – Aultguish

The Wet Fish Road

The day dawned bright and fresh and not too cold so I donned my shorts. Little did I think at the time that it would be the only day I would wear them. After weaving through the Germans to get our breakfast, we set out soon after 9.00am and had a pleasant stroll up the hill and along the side of Loch Kinellan. Here we met a lone woman out walking without a dog. How rare is that now-a-days? She turned back to accompany us to the awkward fork in the forest and made sure we were on the right path. It was a wonderful help as there were tracks all over the forest but we unerringly found our way through and out onto the track to Rogie Falls. This was well worth visiting; an impressive sight when viewed from the middle of the footbridge. A fish ladder carved out of the rocks looked almost natural as it looped its way around the main falls. Back on the track we had an easy walk in the morning sunshine to Little Garve where we were very taken by the beautiful old bridge which the main road now bypasses. Here we met a woman finishing her run accompanied by her young son on his bike. She was training for the cross-Scotland race that passes through Tomich, one of our overnight stops last year. 

The map here was confusing. The original route onwards had been severed by the new road and looked impassable so we went the long way round, along the old road to the north-east and then across the main road and back along a forestry track. As we did so the weather turned, never to recover properly for the rest of our trip. By the time we reached the track junction, where a signpost indicated that the old drove road directly uphill from Little Garve might still exist, it was raining hard and we donned all our waterproofs. We had a quick bite to eat and set off uphill following the sign ‘Drove Road to Aultguish’.Unfortunately the underfoot conditions went downhill. The track was

swamped and our progress was slowed by continually having to scramble to either side to avoid deep puddles of slimy morass. After what seemed an age, we came out of the forest and onto an open moor. Now there was no protection from the squalls coming in from the west, but we could see the Aultguish Inn on the road below. But still the wet ground would not let go and in fact it got worse. In the end we abandoned the main path and slid down the wet hillside to the road some 500 yards short the inn. My legs were caked in brown peat so I stripped off shoes and socks and left them in the car park.

We had a lovely room. We were early enough to watch the Scottish Cup Final and to enjoy the exciting victory of the local Highland team. Then it was down for a pint before Jeff and Margaret arrived to join us for a meal. I had last met Mike’s old university mate and his wife at Struy on last year’s trip. And it was lovely to meet them again and exchange much news and opinion. Margaret, who seems an authority on this part of the world, told us that our wet afternoon tramp across the moors had followed the Fish Road, an old route for transporting fish from the west coast at Ullapool to the east side at Dingwall. We suggested it was more suitable for fish than for walkers. She also filled me with anticipation for a coffee shop at Shin Falls that we would pass in two days time. Then it was a last pint and an early night. We were in for a big day tomorrow.

 

Strathpeffer dep. 09.08, Aultguish Inn arr. 15.14.   GPS 16.69 miles in 5hr 52m 33s including a 10 min lunch stop.

We stayed at Aultguish Inn on the Garve to Ullapool road. I had exquisite venison & pheasant pie and Drambuie sponge pudding. The beer was Kildonan (4.4%) from Dundonnell Brewery at Little Loch Broom, by far the outstanding ale on this holiday.

 

Sunday 31^st May 2015       Aultguish – Bonar Bridge

Walking with Wolves

Throughout the planning stage of this walk, I had realised that the next stage north from Aultguish would be long, whether we chose the western route to Oykel Bridge or the eastern alternative to Ardgay. Discouraging reports were coming in on the mountain path over to Oykel Bridge. Then I could not find accommodation in Ardgay so we had no alternative but to go all the way through to Bonar Bridge. At least there will be food there awaiting us. Oh for the old bothy or a new guest house at Alladale Lodge or Croik!

With such a big day ahead of us, we breakfasted early and were on the road by 8.45am heading eastwards and downhill. What a dreary day! Drizzle coming from a grey sky. At least there was no wind and the umbrellas went up. This kept us dry until we turned off the road and into Strath Vaich. The first two miles were tarmacked but this led onto a muddy track under some woodland and then up over a low hill and down beside the three-mile long Loch Vaich. There was some activity below us at Lubachlaggan but otherwise we saw no-one in the glen. As we climbed up towards the bealach, the wind got stronger and I had to fight to get my umbrella down before it was destroyed. This only resulted in me cutting my finger which bled profusely for much of the day.

A delightful path dropped down into Shangri La, or Deanich Lodge as it was called on the map. The next six or seven miles were the highlight of the trip, a steady descent down the beautiful Gleann Mor alongside the river as it meandered through meadows or roared down rapids. In the middle of this we stopped to eat our two-day-old butties and then dropped down steeply into Alladale. We learnt later that this is where the wolf might get reintroduced to the Scottish mountains. I recalled meeting two young conservation workers in Namibia last year, who had told me about this scheme and their keenness to come and work on it,

Listening for every howl, we hurried on as we still had a long way to go. The weather was improving and we removed our heavy gear for the length of Strath Carron. It was to be ten miles of road walking at the end of a strenuous day. We crossed to the south side of the river, onto a quiet narrow lane. The map showed a riverside path for the last two miles, but this failed to materialise and we were tarmac-bound all the way. It seemed an age to get to Ardgay and then we marched straight through, over the railway and around the head of the Dornoch Firth into Bonar Bridge. The new bridge is quite elegant and, on the other side, the hotel was advertising its meals. It was only a few more yards to our overnight accommodation and the end of a very long day. I am getting too old for days like this.

Aultguish dep.08.45, Bonar Bridge arr. 18.15, GPS 30.56 miles in 9hrs 11m 17s walking time plus a 20 minute lunch stop (12.55-13.15).

We stayed at Kyle House, Dornoch Road, Bonar Bridge. We ate at the Old Bridge Hotel: haggis parcels for starters and fish & chips yet again. The beer was Belhaven Bitter but I was so thirsty, who cares.

 

Monday 1^st June 2015    Bonar Bridge – Lairg

No Coffee at Shin Falls

I had recovered better than I expected from yesterday’s exertions but I was still looking forward to a rest day. After a leisurely breakfast and without the usual hurried packing of sacks, we wandered down to the local shop and restocked our lunch-snacks. It was bright and breezy but with a cold wind that kept us under full body cover. I don’t think the shorts are going to appear again on this trip. In fact I sought out a pair of gloves.

I had considered backtracking to Ardgay and following the forest roads to the west of the river round to Carbisdale Castle. But the thought of retracing yesterday’s tarmac, and the worry about not being able to re-cross the river, put us off the idea and instead we marched for about 1½ miles north out of Bonar Bridge along the main road to Lairg. At the entrance to the Balblair forestry walks, we took to the forestry track that runs parallel to the road to the east of the river and which then drops you back onto it near Invershin Hotel. Here we were able to see the castle and read its short history from an interpretive board place beside the road. We also found that we could cross the river at this point. In 2000 a new footbridge was hung from the side of the railway bridge thus negating the need to have stations on each side of the river.

On Saturday night last, Margaret has heighten my interest in the Shin Falls by telling me of the coffee shop owned by Al Fayed. So for two days I had anticipated my first cappuccino of the trip. These thoughts speeded my footsteps over the next two miles or so of road, even though I was determined to stay off full pace for this my rest day. The sound of roaring water took us down some steps to the falls which were slightly disappointing after the Rogie Falls of two days ago. But we paused for a few minutes and took photographs and delighted in the situation. Then it was back up to the road and the visitor centre. Disaster! The silence and bareness was a huge shock. Everything had been burned down in a fire that had destroyed the centre, restaurant and coffee shop. There was nothing but a large slap of concrete and a nearly deserted car park. I was going to have to forego my coffee and cake.

A lady dog-walked was sitting in the car park and she told us that, as the storm damage forestry clearances were not taking place today, it would be possible to climb up into the plantations and pick up a forest track towards Lairg. This kept us off tarmac for two miles but then we had no alternative, without a big diversion, but to strike out again towards our target. From the map we could see a footbridge marked over the River Shin leading towards the railway station. We were hopeful for a way across the river as it would shorten our route into our overnight accommodation. We found the lovely suspension bridge and crossed one at a time as it appeared a little frail and swayed slightly. On the other side we met a male dog-walker who asked us where we were heading and when I told him we had crossed the river to find our bed & breakfast for the night, he introduced himself as Clive, the owner of the Highland House. We were almost there. Passing Lairg Station, it was only a few yards down the road to the lonely roadside house with its Saltire flying in the front garden. Clive had phoned ahead and we were expected.

As it was still only lunchtime, I had a quick shower and change of clothes and we walked up the road into town. Using the wall of the dam just north of the b&b, we crossed the river yet again and walked up the quiet lane to the Ferrycross Visitor Centre. Mike fancied a walk up to the local view point but I was more interested in my cake and cappuccino. So I spent a quiet half hour restocking mentally and physically in preparation for the big push that was to follow over the next few days. Mike re-joined me for a quick drink and we walked over the bridge into Lairg village centre. Blink and you miss this. The visitor centre quoted Paul Theroux, the travel writer, on arriving by train.

. ‘..the train pulled out and left me in a sort of pine-scented silence. Lairg Station was two miles from Lairg, but even Lairg was nowhere…’  

It was time for a pint so we nipped into the Nip Inn which was the bar of the Lairg Highland Hotel. So it was not a long stagger into next door’s restaurant for a meal of tandoori chicken & rice followed by sticky toffee pudding and ice cream. The beer was bottled Dark Island (4.6%) from Orkney brewery. By the time we finished, it was raining hard so we asked the hotel to get us a taxi and we rode out of town in style but at least we kept our only change of clothes warm and dry.

We stayed at Highland House, 88 Lower Toroboll, Lairg.

Bonar Bridge dep. 09.46, Highland House (a mile south of Lairg) arr. 14.00, GPS 11.43 miles in 3hr 59m 18s walking time plus a 13 min halt to eat a flap-jack and some nuts.

 

Tuesday 2^nd June 2015     Lairg – Crask

Road from Nowhere
The rained had ceased by the time we left Highland House and once more traipsed up the road into Lairg. We called at the local store to stock up with sandwiches for the next few days. We were heading out into a very remote part of the world now and would not be encountering any more shops. We had thought long and hard about an off-road alternative for today’s walk. The forests to the east of the road were criss-crossed with paths and it looked a distinct possibility to take a narrow lane northwards out of town to Seval and then over some open land to the edge of a forest. Global Earth had shown a forestry ride from the end of the path which would link up with the major forest track running north. But was there an unclimbable deer fence? And Mike had noticed that this track crosses a large burn without any indication of a bridge. Previous experiences of wading Scottish rivers had alerted us to the difficulties and dangers of river crossings especially after heavy rain.

So we took the safer option and walked eleven miles up the main road, which was single track for most of the way and would have been very quiet except for the fleets of German motorbikes. The weather had deteriorated again with heavy showers of rain blowing in on a very cold wind. So we were back to wearing full waterproofs, hats and gloves. Near North Dalchork we took a three mile loop through the forest to give our feet a break but, as most of the plantations had been clear-felled, we got preciously little shelter from the wind. The last mile was back on the road. It was a wonderful moment when we came round a bend and saw the Crask Inn ahead, two lonely buildings set in a huge landscape of bleak moorland with distant snow-covered mountains beyond.

As we approached the inn, it appeared to be closed. All was quiet and in darkness. There was a great sense of relief when, on trying the door handle, the door open and we entered a small dark room which had a bar at one end. A bell on the counter brought the lady owner who was out in the back trying to start the generator. But she paused in her task and made us a cup of tea and then eventually started the machine and gave us light. Her husband came in and lit the peat/wood-burning stove and
we got some warmth at last. Other people started to arrive. A couple of Dutch motorcyclists pulled in for a cup of tea before moving on, a Swiss cyclist who was staying in the bunkhouse across the road (the second building) and then a group of English cyclists in the early stages of a north-to-south end-to-end attempt. The inn and its bunkhouse were full by evening and we had a delightful night of good food, beer and chat in the company of a great set of people. Outside the rain was driven against the windows. Surely this bad weather must pass eventually.

Lairg (Highland House) dep. 09.39, Crask arr. 14.30, GPS 15.22 miles in 4hrs 31m 47s walking time plus a 14 minute (13.03-13.17) lunch halt.

We stayed in the Crask Inn, one of the most remote places one can imagine. I had a prawn cocktail for starters, then venison casserole and finished with Bakewell tart and ice cream. The beers were served draught from pins from the Black Isle Brewery Co., Blonde (4.6%) and Red Kite (4.2%).

 

Wednesday 3^rd June 2015     Crask Inn – Kinbrace Station

Burnt Out Bothy

What a dreadful morning. All the weather forecasts we had heard during the trip had promised us summer starting today. Not in the north of Scotland, it wasn’t! The windows of the inn were awash with rain driving across the bleak landscape. We had had our earliest breakfast, 7.30am, as we had a train to catch and we had no idea of the state of the ground we must cross. Soon after 8.30am, we stepped out into the wind and rain. At least it was on our backs.

The first three miles or so were on a very wet path that crossed endless streams and marshes. But all things come to an end and we eventually pulled up to the bealach and on to firmer ground. Round a

corner the view opened up and what a view it turned out to be. Below us was a sunlit glen descending to Loch a' Bhealaich and Loch Choire. Our path was beautifully engineered across the face of the mountain, dropping at a welcome and steady gradient. This led us out into the glen and a long tramp on good tracks, some quite sandy, along the lochsides. As we approached Loch Choire House we saw smoke rising out of the trees and I recalled that a bothy had recently burnt down. When we arrived, we found the smoke to be coming from the demolition team that was tidying up the ruins. No more overnight bivvying here for a while!

Rather than follow the wide vehicle track for its full length, we took instead an alternative ‘short cut’, a path marked on the map crossing some higher ground. It was hardly shorter in time as there were some awkward wet sections and a couple of climbs over gates in the very high deer fences. So it was a relief to get back onto the wide estate road. The surface was smooth and pleasant to walk on. At Gearnsary we sheltered behind a wall and had a quick bite to eat, finishing off butties we had bought two days previously in Lairg.

The final push was in improving weather. The sun shone during the afternoon and if it had not been for the biting wind, we might have mistaken it for the promised arrival of better weather. Eventually Badanloch Lodge came into view at the end of the eponymous loch. As we crossed the wall of the dam, the bitingly cold wind threatened my sun hat which I had to remove or risk losing it. Lapwings started to mob us: we must have been traversing their nesting ground. A large herd of red deer crossed our path and then some geese (they must have been greylags but I was most surprised to see these here in June) and oyster catchers. There was more wildlife here than we had seen on the entire trip so far. It seemed a long four miles to Kinbrace but we had time to spare and slowed to a more comfortable pace. And the sun was shining on us now as we dropped down to a river bridge and up into the delightfully situated village of Kinbrace. This looked an absolute picture in the sunshine. I was very glad to have made it. The cold weather and the wind had made this a challenging few days.

Crask dep. 08.35, Kinbrace arr. 16.45, GPS 25.30 miles in 7hrs 52m 25s walking time plus a 20 minute lunch stop.

 

Aftermath

We arrived at Kinbrace Station with enough time to strip off our walking gear and change into our travelling clothes. The train was 10 minutes late and remained so all the way to Inverness. This left us without much time to make the connection and to settle onto the Caledonian Sleeper before it pulled out and headed south into the night. The bottles of Fyne went down well although they were rather expensive. Sampled the Highland at 4.8% and the Avalanche at 4.2%. These went well with a macaroni cheese which got us through the night. We arrived in Crewe before the buffet bars were open but we did get a bacon bap before leaving the station to catch the first bus. The sun was shining as I walked home from the bus stop. It all looked so verdant and felt so warm and fertile. It was hard to believe that 24 hours earlier we had been struggling across the Flow Country in such awful conditions. Another world. The total mileage for the trip was another 98 miles towards John O’Groats. Next year we shall be there (DV).

Central Highlands

Corrour Station - Strathpeffer, 1^st–5^th May 2014

Introduction

Our end-to-end project is now entering the latter stages. Last year we terminated our walk in awful weather on Rannoch Moor, not being able to resist the temptation of jumping on a train home when we got to Corrour Station. To resume our northerly journey, we had to retrace our train journey back onto the moor. A train from Manchester dropped us into the streets of Glasgow in weather that was reminiscent of last year. We had to don all our wet weather gear for the walk to Queens Street. Here the Fort William section of the train was struggling to start its engines so we all had to crowd into two carriages and arrived late in Crianlarich where the Oban bound passengers left us. We were further delayed at Bridge of Orchy where we were held until the sleeper went passed. I was worried about the venison burger I had ordered at Corrour but the guard rang ahead and warned them we would be late. It was 10pm when we pulled into the dark wet station at the top of the world. My meal was ready and I washed it down with lovely beer from the Cairngorm brewery.

 

Thursday 1^st May 2014     Corrour – Kinloch Laggan

Mayday on Rannoch Moor

It was not very tempting to venture out onto the moor. The clag was down on the hills, it was very cold and windy and the air was full of wetness without it actually raining. Donning all our winter gear, we set out soon after 9am along the path upon which we finished a year before. This time however we kept along the southern shoreline of Loch Ossian and made fast progress to the lodge, an amazing building, at the eastern end of the lake. Here we met a construction team who were building a new hydro-electric scheme. The access road had completely obliterated the footpath up the glen. A supervisor gave us advice on how to wait for the diggers to see us and lower their buckets before proceeding through. One of the drivers got down from his cabin and directed us to the best route back to the path.  We then had a pleasant hour weaving our way along the burn before, on reaching the upper reaches, crossing and shinning up the steep southern slopes. The path that we were aiming for was an extraordinary construction, a beautifully drained trod on a raised dyke. We now made fast progress up to Bealach Dubh, our high point of the day. The views backward and forward were breath-taking.

 

Soon we were plunging down, checked briefly by a snowfield that lay across the path at an exposed point. After edging gingerly across we soon resumed our descent and stopped for a bite to eat lunch below the dramatic ridges of Ben Alder, now beginning to appear from the clouds. We then flew down to the valley floor and Culna Bothy. A notice stopped Mike from entering, ‘beware asbestos’. On we walked passed Loch Pattack and along a very wet track beside the river. Then the route became drier and grassier, the temperature rose and we were able to take off some of our winter gear. At last we came to a fork to the left to reach Kinloch Laggan some two miles ahead. We dropped through a wood to the lochside and onto a tarmac road from the Ardverikie Estate. It came as a relief to find that there was a mobile signal and I was able to ring our B&B and beg a pick-up. We emerged over a narrow bridge near the gate and lodge of the estate and onto the main road. In a few minutes our lift arrived and we were wheeling along towards our night’s accommodation. The Rumblie is a lovely bungalow in the village of Laggan. It has a small bar and a bistro. The food is served in a glass conservatory where one can eat whilst watching the birds outside on the bird feeders.

Corrour Station dep. 09.09, Kinloch Laggan arr. 17.05 with a lunch stop 12.57-13.12 just beyond the Bealach Dubh.  GPS 23.86 miles in 7hr 40m 26s + 15 min lunch stop.

 

We stayed at the Rumblie, Gregask Avenue, Laggan which is at least 5 miles off route. I had beef lasagne from the bistro menu and stick toffee pudding. The bottled beers were again from the wonderful Cairngorm Brewery, trying Sheepshaggers Gold (4.5%) and Caillie (3.8%).

  

Friday 2^nd May 2014       Kinloch Laggan – Fort Augustus
Corrieyairack and Pylons

The weather forecast was marvellous, sunshine and negligible wind even on the summits. Simon took us back in the Prius to where he had met us the previous evening and we set off round the lochside looking at the most perfect setting of snow-covered hills reflected in the still waters. Turning right up a track, we found ourselves on a construction road for the new electricity line. This eventually turned off and we proceeded to Sherramore on the original grassy surface. Here we turned onto General Wade’s Military Road which we followed passed Garva Bridge, Melgrave and up over the Corrieyairack Pass. We paused for a bite to eat before attempting the final zig-zags. Views were good but spoilt by the new line of pylons, the construction vehicles and access track. From the top, the military road kept to itself and provided a long and pleasant descent passed a house called Blackburn and down to a stream at the foot of the pass.

Here I took a questionable route choice, following the steam to the Culachy Falls. The path became increasingly overgrown and the falls were hidden behind the thick vegetation so we ended up on a narrow but signposted trod that brought us through a wood near Culachy House. The falls were obviously not a popular visitor attraction. We entered Fort Augustus via the burial ground, old and new, and then a mile along the main road. Guessing where the old railway may have come out, it was not difficult to identify Station Road. A house at the top of the hill bore the RBS Bank logo. Surely this could not be our B&B, but it was. Bank House used to be the bank manager’s house but has been sold off separately and now shares the building with the bank. Our host recommended a pub facing the canal and backed up her recommendation by appearing there herself for a meal.

Kinloch Laggan dep. 09.15, Fort Augustus arr. 17.30, GPS 24.18 miles in 7hrs 51m 19s plus a 20 minute lunch stop.

We stayed at Bank House, Station Road, Fort Augustus. We ate at the Lock Inn: chicken curry followed by Loch Ness muddies (chocolate torte). The beer was Batemans Yellabelly Gold (3.9%).

 

Saturday 3^rd May 2014    Fort Augustus – Tomich

The Balfour Beatty Way

As we emerged on another sunny morning, cool and perfect for walking, mountain bikes were arriving along the canal towpath and turning into the town. We asked marshals what was happening and were told of an event where competitors ride from Fort William, leave their bikes at Fort Augustus and then run/walk through the night along the Great Glen Way to Inverness. I was not tempted to join in. Instead I popped in a butchers to buy a pie for lunch and then we walked through the village and turned left towards Jenkins Park. Here we found a signpost pointing up the hill and indicating the start of the old military route.

We zig-zagged up on a delightful woodland path which, in the morning sun, could have been an Alpine route. If only the quality of the walking had lasted. Once we had levelled out we joined a forestry track which ran into a construction road for the new power lines. Now we were surrounded by health & safety notices which included demarcated mobile phone zones. So now we had a choice, we could try to follow the remnants of the old path or cut straight down the hillside into Glen Moriston using the Balfour Beatty Way. Not being luddites, we took the easy option and were soon on the road to Torgoyle Bridge and beyond.

Crossing the river, it was only a few yards before we found the construction road blazing its way up the opposite hillside. Just follow the pylons. In fast warming conditions we sweated and toiled up the stony and gritty track, ticking off the pylons one by one on our way to a 2000ft highpoint. There was the odd sign of the old route but it had mostly disappeared under the works access road. One mountain biker seemed pleased with the easy access to this remote area and we made steady progress towards our next destination.

On our way down we took a diversion to see the Plodda Falls and it was well worth the effort and the extra mile. The falls were spectacular, viewed either from above from a high viewing platform or from below in the deep wooded gorge. After an exciting half hour or so we then headed down the river, passing the ruins on Guisachan, the old home of Lord Tweedmouth, the man who moved Tomich to its present site and built the modern cottages which are now a conservation village with a huge monument to Lord Tweedmouth at its entrance.  

Fort Augustus dep. 09.15, Tomich arr. 16.45, GPS 20.35 in 7hr 09m 24s plus a 21 min halt to eat my pie. 

We stayed in Tomich Hotel, ate steak & ale pie & chips, followed by bread & putter pudding & custard (Mike had apoplexy). The real ale was An Teallach Ale (4.2%) from An Teallach Brewery, Dundonell.

Sunday 4^th May 2014     Tomich – Struy

Rest Day

There was no hurry this morning. The logistics of our walk were such that today we only had to shift 11 miles down the glen so as to be in the optimum position for the final day’s schedule. A leisurely breakfast and a chat with the owner had the cleaners waiting for our room. The sunny weather had departed and there was rain in the air as we headed north out of the village and up the road towards Cannich. We did not go through Cannich though, staying on the quieter lane on the east of the river. This continued all the way up to Struy and in that time we saw the very occasional vehicle and a group of horse riders. The only person we spoke to was a lady with a camera waiting for some photographs of birds round her feeders.

It threatened to rain several times and there was evidence of some puddles on the roads but it did not rain on us. Our luck with the weather was still holding. After a pleasant 3 hours or so through woodland of downy birch, we came to the bridge over the River Glass and into Struy. This seemed to consist of a pub and church and little else. Our accommodation for the night lay another half mile up the road at the Cnoc Hotel, which was situated above and back from the road in a rather bare garden

 

But they were most welcoming. Our rooms were not ready, not surprisingly as it was only lunchtime but we were led into the residents lounge, the fire was lit and we sat in luxury, still in our shorts, whilst we were served with coffee and scones. Mike had invited an old friend, a climbing partner from university days who now lives nearby with his wife, to join us for a drink. Jeff and Margaret arrived quite soon and we had a drink and a brief chat before they set off for a cycle. We meantime had showers and changed into more suitable clothes so that by the time Jeff and Margaret returned we were more appropriately attired for the residents lounge. The beers were served and the reminiscences began and Mike and Jeff were transported back to epic climbs in Glencoe. The drinks kept coming and the hours slipped away and then it was too late for our guests to go home to eat so food was ordered and we all ate together at the hotel and of course drank more beer and had more chat. So it was a lovely relaxing time with great company, a very nice rest day.

Tomich dep. 09.44, Struy arr. 13.25, GPS 11.25 miles in 3hrs 41m 09s.

We stayed in the Cnoc Hotel. I had fish and chips washed down by bottled Trade Winds (4.3%) from Cairngorm and Red Kite Ale (4.2%) from Black Isle.

 

Monday 5^th May 2014     Struy - Strathpeffer

River Crossing at Hangman’s Cottage

The one uncertainty of this year’s walk was whether we could wade the Allt Goibhre. If this proved impassable, a five mile detour would be necessary and our arrangements for getting home put in jeopardy. So we had an early start and got a steady pace going on our climb up the Erchless Burn. The weather was as yesterday, grey and threatening, and a cold wind had arisen. So it was back to the winter gear as we topped out the climb and began the long contour to Tighachrochadair. The path was waterlogged and we were slowed by the continual need to by-pass the wettest sections.

Eventually we could see the two buildings of Tighachrochadair below us. We failed to locate the start of the path that descended to the river so we set out hopefully into the grass & heather and came across the path halfway down. Tighachrochadair is in a remote situation, a deserted farm and barn on a grassy level beside a small river. The first building we came to was an open barn containing a huge notice board displaying photographs and newspaper cuttings from visiting walking groups. Some told the story of a woman who was revisiting this abandoned farm, her former home, in her dotage.

The moment had come. Down at the riverbank, it looked quite straightforward to wade the shallow waters. I had to stop halfway whilst Mike recorded the crossing. Then Mike pulled out the walking stick that he had carried for 5 days. At its first touch of the river bottom, it broke into two pieces. The swamp that faced us on the far side caused us more problems than the river crossing but we eventually pulled onto drier steeper ground and started a wet tramp towards where the map showed there to be a path. Suddenly two figures appeared ahead of us on a slight rise. So we turned towards them and found, as we expected, that these two were on the path. The woman was from Yorkshire and was planning a walk that she was due to lead in the near future. The older gentleman was introduced as a highlander. He told us how to pronounce Tighachrochadair and that it means Hangman’s Cottage. Then we asked him how one pronounces Cnoc. It sounded like Croc. When we were told that he was 85 years old we looked around in astonishment at the miles of wet featureless hills he must have crossed to get here. The air or water or whiskey must keep you young and healthy up here.

Happy that we had a few more years walking ahead of us, we set out into the wilderness which eventually ended on some high ground with staggering views of Beauly and Cromarty Firths and the Black Isle in between. We sat for a short lunch break looking out over the coastal plain and its green field below. We had not seen such fertility for days. Then we plunged down a steepening path to a 10ft high wooden kissing gate in which I got stuck. I eventually reversed out and tried again to get through without a rucksack on my back.

At the bottom we entered onto some quiet country lanes which eventually led us onto busier ‘A’ roads at Marybank. Our original plan had been to stay off road by going up the River Orrin, viewing the Falls of Orrin and then crossing into Contin over the Achonachie Dam. But we had heard, later confirm by our friends Jeff and Margaret, that access to this dam had been blocked by the power company. So the first bridge across the River Connon was Moy Bridge towards which we now walked. This valley must flood regularly as gates are in place to close the road. But we were fine and were soon crossing the Ullapool road and heading for a footpath marked on the map to Jamestown. This was obvious at first but the final section had been blocked by a farmer and we diverted up a field and climbed a low fence onto a lane. In Jamestown we saw the sign for a pathway through a wood into Strathpeffer and the finish of this year’s section of our end-to-end journey. There was a lovely little cafe serving coffee and Guinness cake. So we let one bus pass and had a relaxing hour in the tea shop. The next bus took us back to Inverness where we had a few hours to kill before our train home. So we had a quick look round the town and then went into a pub to a meal and some celebratory ale.

Struy dep. 08.45, Strathpeffer arr. 15.15, GPS 17.61 in 6hrs 13m 42s plus 21 mins lunch stop.

I ate steak pie and chips in a riverside pub in Inverness and some delightful Pollinated Heather Honey Beer (4.5%) from Black Isle on cask.

 

We caught the sleeper from Inverness to Crewe and then took the first bus home. A great walk in a little window of dry weather. Someone is looking down on us.