Saturday 12th May - Day Two
Glen Affric to Coille an Tuathanaich
14.76 miles (planned)
559 metres of ascent (planned)
19.67 miles (actual)
834 metres of ascent (actual)
Despite a couple of showers during the night, Saturday started bright with blue skies and sunshine. I’d slept really well again, we’d gone to our beds fairly early but were kept awake by some weird creature of the night. I’m guessing it was an owl of some kind but it sounded like a six year old kid doing an Indian war cry, whilst running around our campsite every minute or so. I ended up putting my mp3 player on to drown it out.
View from the tarp in the morning
On our way up Glen Affric
After climbing the bogs of Allt Garbh, looking back down to Loch Affric
Interesting Landy bridge
We called in at Cougie Lodge to meet TGO hero Val, just in time for a fresh batch of scones too, result. We sat and ate chicken and veg soup with bread rolls, followed by cups of tea and warm scones with jam.
One of Val’s dogs
After leaving Cougie we were down the track, over Garve Bridge and then taking a right at Plodda Falls and up through the forest. We met Gary at Cougie who was also on his first crossing, we walked and chatted with him for a while but he soon shot off when he realised how slow we were, we’d forgotten his name later in the day so he was now called Donny, because that’s where he came from.
We’d planned to camp at the top of the woods originally but it was only around 13:30 as we reached the gate on the perimeter, we’d heard about the impending weather for Sunday so we made the decision to keep going. Big mistake and our only real cock up of the whole trip!! It was here that we picked up a row of powerlines for the first time, they’d feature heavily over the next couple of days.
Our route was straight forward and it had recently been made even easier, a new service road had been gouged out of the hill exactly on the course of the original path.
Navigation couldn’t have been simpler but this turned out to be our worst leg of the whole crossing, the track just went on and on, false horizon after false horizon. The landscape was bleak moorland too which made it even worse, and then the constant taking off and putting on of waterproofs every ten minutes was tiresome. Bright yellow plant machinery was dotted all around as well as the orange plastic fencing and H&S signs, the wind picked up from the west bringing more rain and then we started the descent from Beinn Bahn.
My feet were already pretty sore and my left knee was starting to give me some gip, Mick was in much the same way and so the long descent was an absolute killer. We’d split up near the end, Mick was really struggling and I was eager to find somewhere to camp for the night before it got too late, we couldn’t get lost as the track was so obvious so I pulled away at the front. As I came round a final left hander there was a small area of closely grazed grass in view at the bottom of the hill, not exactly flat but it was the best we’d seen since we left Cougie about five hours earlier.
I had my Trailstar pitched and was collecting water by the time Mick arrived, he pitched up between the showers and gales dived into my party tent for some grub. In pain and totally knackered we called it an early night, I passed out about five seconds after hitting my pillow.
No photos were taken after Cougie sorry, I was in no mood to take any shots even if there had been anything to look at.
Sunday 13th May - Day Three
Coille an Tuathanaich to Fort Augustus
17.09 miles (planned)
737 metres of ascent (planned)
10.36 miles (actual)
362 metres of ascent (actual)
I was woken by the sound of a Transit van driving up the track twenty metres from my tarp, another great nights sleep on the deck. My feet were tender though, big hot spots on the outside of each heel and then a giant one on the ball of my left foot, right up under the toes, not blisters yet but after two long days my townie feet were suffering. I gave them some TLC with a bit of Gehwols and got my stuff packed, considering Sunday was supposed to be a horrid day it was actually quite a nice morning. By the time we’d had a brew and packed away the rain was just starting, we took a wrong turn in the woods and had to bushwhack our way out, no biggy but ten minutes wasted.
Down into Glen Moriston and into the next big forestry, our vetter advised us to take an alternative route which turned out to be a bit out of date. We were supposed to pick up the powerlines again and follow them straight up the hill, we found them but there was no path, we checked the GPS and we were right where we should be. The obvious track to our right was fenced off, padlocked and out of bounds, that meant we had to work our way round and bog jump and scramble up a good 90 metres of ascent. The rain was really hammering down by now, the wind was howling through the tree tops too, but we knew once we’d reached the top and found a track we’d be into Fort Augustus in no time. We did find a track eventually and it was going our way, we stopped under the cover of some big pines and smoked a soggy rolly. The forestry paths were easy to follow most of the time, a couple of new routes would throw us off sometimes, especially at crossroads which weren’t on our maps.
We missed a crappy little left hand fork when we’d done all the hard work for the day, it was barely noticeable at the time but it would have saved us a good hour and a half of zig zagging along tracks. By the time we reached Fort Augustus it was midday, we found the campsite and a bunch of other Challengers already there in the lodge building. We managed to grab one of the twin rooms in the lodge and we were even happier to collect the food parcels we’d posted up. All the soggy gear was washed and hung up in the drying room, and we spent the afternoon eating, showering and chatting with folk about routes, alternative routes and mostly about the weather. The little portable telly in the lodge had the footy on so we managed to see City beat Utd to the title which cheered us up a bit, back into the soggy gear and out to the pub. It was still torrential outside, folk were talking about 100mph winds and a months worth of rain that day, I was dead chuffed that Mick talked me into going halves on a room instead of camping.
No pictures of day 3, it was just so wet I had to keep the camera tucked away in a dry bag. It was wet, grey and windy.