TGO CHALLENGE ON THE FLY 2013


Part 2



The main event



 

DAY 1   Friday 10th May - Oban to Inverawe  - 22km

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The day had finally arrived, it started overcast and cool with a light breeze, it was looking good! This morning I was to catch the first bus to Oban from my home (Lochgilphead) at 07:15, the journey would only take about an hour and arriving in Oban at the South pier stances the first problem became apparent, over the next two weeks I was to navigate my way across Scotland in all kinds of weather and terrain using my knowledge and skill in the use of map and compass, BUT I COULDN'T FIND THE SIGN OUT POINT! what a ridiculous start how was I going to find Montrose. Once the Youth Hostel was found and the signing out completed at 09:20, it was time to begin. Down to the waterfront for the customary photograph, which an Innocent passer bye was huckled into taking, standing with my feet in the water the picture was taken, and one just in case the person made a mess of it. Later in the day I noticed my second cock up, nugget head hadn't put the SD card into the camera, what a plank, no pictures!

        Out of Oban along the Glen Loanan minor road to Taynuilt, not the most exciting start to the event but I chose it because I know that the majority of it is unfenced, meaning I could stay off the black stuff most of the way. Before even leaving Oban I met the first Challenger, Carl Oddy who was on his 10th crossing, we walked together discussing a variety of topics. This type of social walking is new to me, normally I walk alone,  this was a nice change, after all that's what the Challenge is all about.


 Along with Carl I met Bert, Suus , Paul Campbell and others . Within half an hour of starting the rain began, light to begin with but by the end of the day it was lashing down,
gi- dreich, Passing the abandoned Highland Heathers nursery site at Barguillian, lying in ruins with the tunnel hoops broken, twisted and sticking in the air like  the ribs of an elephant graveyard, a sad sight to see because it used to be a big employer in the area with five sites.  Once at Taynuilt my route was through the village, stopping off at the village store for junk food,  past the historic iron furnace and onto a track which led to the wire suspension footbridge that spans the river Awe at Inverawe house, This is where the  legend of Ticonderoga  originates and was my stop for the night, arriving at 15:15. 

        The plan is to have an afternoons fishing here, but not on the river, on the fishery. I have had many a good day catching trout on the fly over the years on these lochs, so why not start here!.
        Time now to have some lunch in the Tearoom, home made  chicken and veg soup and a home made roll, provided by Sam, with a mug of coffee to follow while I set up the fly rod. The rain was lashing down outside, but who cares, I'm going fishing! A short walk up to the first of three small lochs,  there was insect life at the waters edge, which is a good sign, an odd fish or two were rising," good, I'll target one of them, if I can figure out which direction one of them is travelling in". Steadily rising every 30 seconds or so, one of them patrolled the weed bed in the centre of the loch. a well aimed cast a short distance in-front of it to prevent spooking it, then a pause to give it a chance to close the gap, now the retrieve, a quick figure of eight. After only a few seconds with my polaroids on I saw it turn and follow the two Awesome's . Now the chase was on, a bow wave appeared on the surface so I sped up the retrieve, the line went taught as the fish turned away and the fight was on. The fish was very lively, leaping about the place and making mad dashes in a desperate attempt for freedom, but it wasn't to be, a nice bright Rainbow Trout  of about 1.75lb was in the bag after a good 5 minute battle. That was the first fish of the season for me, a happy angler! Content with the start I went back to the fishing hut to get out of the rain for a short time and have another cup of coffee, what a pleasurable way to spend an afternoon!
     The evening progressed in a nice relaxed way, half hours fishing and then back to the hut for shelter, everyone had gone home, I was left with the place to myself. Prior to the event I had received permission from Robert Campbell Preston to camp within the grounds next to the toilets and the tap.
     The  first day came to a close, I was content with 4 Trout in the bag (figure of speech, they were all returned back to the water to fight another day) Dinner and bed was now on the agenda as an early start to the next day was required, KinlochEtive was in tomorrows sights.
Ooooooo, no ghosts spotted!

ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzz!

Saturday 10th May Inverawe to Kinlochetive 21km

 

This morning I awoke to no rain, it was however cloudy with intermittent patches of blue skies, a Westerly breeze was blowing down the length of Loch Etive. A leisurely start to the day as I was up at 05:00, stupid hour. Following my breakfast of Alpen porridge and a mug of coffee it was time to begin. Onto the black stuff for only a short distance, turning off at a junction to where a forestry road leads to the water’s edge of Loch Etive. A fantastic view of the entire loch is to be had at the top of hill before the descent, however It did also give the opportunity to see how far I had to walk today, and it looked a loooooong way to the top of the Loch given that I knew the top half didn’t have a good path to follow.

    The walking this morning was easy, in total solitude on a good well used track. The odd Red Deer would cross in front of me as I strolled along; Buzzards were in the sky doing their soaring thing and the Cookoo was always in the background calling out its spring chant. By the time I had reached the farm of Inverliever the drizzle had started, scattered tents of other challengers came into view, some with movement within and some without. As I walked onwards to Ardmaddy, a Landrover came along and pulled up beside me, “Good morning, is this the walk across Scotland event?” she asked “ yes, the TGO Challenge” I replied, “well I hope you’ve got your winter woollies with you because snow and high winds are forecast for the area”, just the news I wanted to hear , and off she sped with her wheels slipping on the loose gravel of the track.

      The rain slowly became heavier over the course of the morning and by the time I had reached the end of the track at Ardmaddy farm/house it was lashing down, from here, after checking with the local gamekeeper it was to be a path underfoot which followed the loch side, or so he explained in an unsure manner, “ aim for the West side of the new plantation at the water’s edge, there you will see the path” he said. This done, the path was found but it was intermittent and running like a river, looks like wet feet for the rest of the day!

    The scenery as you progress up the Loch is beautiful, steep hillsides with the tops shrouded in cloud, smooth boulder strewn rivers and the odd ruined shieling, a moment of thought given as I passed, living there would have been an existence that must have been harsh but tranquil.

    Whilst crossing the boulder strewn river of Alt Coire na Larach, as I precariously hopped from one round boulder to the next, I slipped and landed on my backside, there was a loud crack from my pack, immediately I remembered that I hadn’t removed the tent pole from the tent bag and stored it inside my pack, which is something I normally do in case this sort of thing happens. My tent is slung horizontally across the bottom of my pack on the outside and the crack must have been the pole breaking, the air was blue with obscenities before I was even back on my feet. This event would have been a good laugh for anybody who had been fortunate enough to witness it, I was like an upturned turtle, legs and arms flailing about in the air as I lay there on my back with my pack jammed between two boulders, fortunately I fell where there was little water, I had to remove my pack to get out of the situation. If the pole was broken then it’s game over already. On reaching the other side, verbally chastising myself all the way, I unpacked the tent and removed the pole,

 “ THANK GOD FOR THAT !” it was still intact, but I found that my Sigg bottle had a big ding in it, lesson learnt.

     The remainder of the days walk passed uneventful, soaking wet, path, no path, bog and rocks all the way to Kinlochetive bothy. This bothy is no longer part of the MBA, it’s for the exclusive use of the Estate and a school. A couple of hundred yards back towards the shore is a two sided and turf roofed shelter with a hearth,

 welcomed shelter from the relentless rain. This is where I spent the evening, dinner of chicken korma followed by custard and fruit was on the menu  tonight whilst I dried my waterproofs and boots on a makeshift washing line made from the spare guy lines I was carrying.

     Whilst relaxing admiring the view up the glen with Buichalle Etive Mor on the right and Buichalle Etive Beg on the left, watching a herd of Red Deer graze

three drenched figures appeared and entered the shelter. They were challengers, Stuart Ball, Allan Little and Kenneth Little. They pitched their tents on the lawn of the bothy and re-joined me in the shelter for the remainder of the evening where all sorts of blethering took place. I was awoken by the noise of kids arriving at the bothy somewhere around 01:30, The person at the front of the pack, who was about 50 yards in front , missed the bothy, he plodded on right passed until one of the kids shouted him back. I can only assume that they spotted the tents on the grass as they approached because it suddenly went deafeningly silent when they reached the bothy, not a squeak was to be heard.

Ahhhhhh, Back to the job in hand,  ZZZZZZZzzzz!

 

Sunday 12th May Kinlochetive to Kingshouse 19km

 

06:30, dry and overcast with a cold wind blowing up the length of the loch, that’s how this morning began. I was on my way shortly after the other lads had decamped and had left, I had a choice of path to follow which would lead to the bridge that crosses the river Etive, follow the river path (which the lads chose to do) or follow the path that crosses the open flat bog. I chose the flat bog to connect with the other path. It turned out to be easy going and I arrived at the other side with dry feet. The remainder of the walk to the bridge was nice, following the river on a well drained footpath. The lads were at the bridge getting a brew on when I arrived, so I stopped to join them,  a couple of sausages that I had cooked and vacuum packed prior to the event was just the job, Aberdeen Angus and pork with apple. Rest over and leaving the three of them to their brew, from the bridge it was only a short walk to the black stuff which ran the entire length of Glen Etive, but I was only going as far as Dalness a few km up the road. Waterproofs were soon on again as the rain made an appearance once more, head down, plodding on, not much can be said for this section, my earphones were in and I was in a world of my own whilst listening to Ewan McGregor and Charlie Boormans Long Way Round.

On reaching Dalness it was time to have a break before climbing up and over the Bealach between the two Buichallie Etives. As I was leaving the three lads arrived, a short chat about the track and I was off through the signposted gate and following the path upwards, the path was narrow, good underfoot and easy to follow. Looking back I could see the three of them making their start, the view down the glen and onto Loch Etive was stunning, even in the rain. Onwards and upwards, stopping to admire the view I noticed them waving their arms at me, ushering me in a southerly direction, the realisation that I had missed the junction in the path that would take me into the correct bealach soon struck, I was heading into Lairig Eilde and not the intended Lairig Gartain. Fortunately it wasn’t too hard to correct my mistake and I was soon on the right path falling in behind the three of them on their way up.

   The wind at the top was very cold and strong, only a short stop taken had due to this. The descent down the other side was on a good path all the way to the road (A83) at Altnafeadh where we had a rest and a snack in the car park. The Glencoe Mountain Rescue team were having a training day with their dogs in the horrendous weather, from here it was simple, follow the West Highland Way South to the Kings House Hotel.

   Arrival at the Kings House  Hotel showed the extent of today’s rain, the river was a raging torrent and the usual camping spots were awash. The few good pitches were already taken by early arrivals of West Highland Way back packers.

I found a spot to pitch my tent, not ideal but it had to do, on the west side of the bridge tucked  in close to it, this was the side that was exposed to the wind and rain, what’s more is that there wasn’t enough space to allow me to pitch the tent with its backside into the wind. “Sod this I’m going for a bar meal tonight and bed early”!

 Soup followed by Steak and Ale pie, Mmmmmmmm!, contented I returned to my tent at 22:00, which was being buffeted by the wind and where I cooried doon for the night.

 ZZZZZZZzzzzzz! 

 

 

Monday 13th May Kings House Hotel to Ben Alder bothy 38km

 

I awoke to the tent roof sagging, initially I thought that some of the pegs had pulled out through the night due to the wind, not that I heard any wind but because I wasn’t asleep last night, I was knackered and unconscious. The air inside the tent was cold, an extra effort had to be made to pull myself out of my warm down bag. Everything was done in a double quick time fashion this morning to keep warm. I was walking by 07:00 following the track East passing Black Corries in almost a whiteout and high winds. Easy going along the good track with good views looking back to the Glencoe guarded by Buichallie Etive Mor.



      The track abruptly ended, Peering through the driving snow I couldn’t see a path, looking at the map the path follows the pillions all the way to the forest, so off I set bog and heather bashing. I did eventually bump onto a path, or I should call it a stain in the bog which crosses Rannoch Moor. A sigh of relief on reaching the forest, time was taken to have a rest and something to eat in the shelter of the trees as I had been on the go for 3 hours without stopping. That section was cold and bleak and strangely the snow didn't lie !

    Pulling myself back onto my feet after an hours rest wasn’t easy, the shelter and tranquillity of the trees made it hard but the incentive came in the form of the snow turning to rain. Within an hour I found myself crossing the railway line at Rannoch Station, into the Tearoom,“I’ll have the biggest teapot you have and a fruit scone and jam followed by a treacle muffin please”. Time to relax and sort out the next map in the dry and warmth.

The day was almost done, or so I thought. From here it was only going to be a short walk for a couple of miles to where I intend to camp for the night. Loch Sron Smuir was the target, a hill loch high above Rannoch. I was going to spend the afternoon fly fishing for Brown Trout here, a permit and camping had been organised and this was the water I was looking forward to fishing the most.

    Standing at the loch side it was obvious that I wouldn’t be able to fish it, the wind was howling off Rannoch Moor and further more I couldn’t see any form of shelter for my tent. At the West end of the loch there is a boat house which was locked and had no suitable pitch beside it. Decision time! Where do I head for? Ben Alder bothy was 8 miles away, Loch Rannoch was closer and I had a permit for that water as well. Given the strength of the wind, fishing was out of the question so onto Ben Alder it would have to be. Time was moving on so I picked up the pace, I didn’t want to arrive too late. At this point I informed Challenge control of the change, I wasn't sure if I was to inform them of every change or not but I did it anyway. Nugget head only went and phoned the wrong number, I glanced at the phone and saw TGO but it actually said TGO TXT, oops! The route was back to the road all the way to the West end of Loch Rannoch, this was an indirect route but it was on the black stuff and could be covered much faster than the more direct bog and heather bashing route from Loch Sron Smuir via Loch 2 + 2.

Whilst plodding along the road in the rain I met a bloke fixing a fence, I had a blether with him and found out that he was in actual fact Ian Sutherland, the gamekeeper for Dunan estate, this was the man that I had purchased the permit from. He told me that he was going to be going up to Loch Sron Smuir later in the evening to unlock the boathouse for me so that I could spend the night in it rather than try to camp. What a shame! I was too far down the road by this time and wasn’t going to go all the way back up. From here I took the forest road to Loch Erricht,

The last mile or so was boggy, the track had ended and I couldn’t see a path. Today’s epic march was over and the bothy nestled in the sheltered bay looked inviting.

     After crossing the rickety bridge and approaching the bothy, it looked empty, no signs of life. I opened the outer and inner doors and shouted in “is there any room left at the Inn” a reply came from one of the rooms. I opened the door to be met by two Challengers, Fred Phillips and Garry Holt drying all their kit out by the fire.

 They are a pair of comedians and were a welcome sight after the day I’ve had. You would swear that they were related, Grandfather and Grandson perhaps, the rapport they have with each other was brilliant to see,  they only knew each other through the walking club that they are members of. The usual evening ritual began with the exception of pitching the tent, this time all I had to do was hang it up in the other room to dry overnight. Bedtime was early tonight (21:30)  I was exhausted. I went to sleep in the security of the bothy and the warmth off my candle lamp which I left to burn all night.

 ZZZZZZZzzzz!

 

 

Tuesday 14th May Ben Alder bothy to Dalwhinnie 24km

 

This morning was an easy start to the day, warm and dry inside, outside was dry but still a cold wind was blowing. Freddie and Garry were up, having breakfast and getting organised for the day, I was packed and away for 08:00 with the two of them not far behind me.

The path led to the rocky point of the bay, I decided to go up and over instead of down and round on the path. Once complete and out the other side of the small plantation a good well drained path is found, this path leads all the way to the track at Loch Erricht lodge. Easy going underfoot with very few ascents or descents. I passed two abandoned motorised wheelbarrows along the way and saw an Orkney Fastliner making its way up the loch, this is the mode of transport for the two men working on the path and whose wheelbarrows I had passed earlier. The sun was out and I was having a great time.

    Following the water’s edge I did notice the lack of any insects, nothing, not a single fish was moving. About half way down the loch I decided to have a break in a nice sheltered bay with a large burn flowing into it, here I saw the first Trout moving, so I’ll have a cast as I had a permit for this water as well. It took about an hour before I hooked one of them, Small, barely plate size but a fish none the less. As I was packing up to move again Freddie and Garry passed by, we were to spend the rest of the days walk passing each other and walking with each other.

      Arriving at the picturesque Erricht lodge with Freddie and Garry, between us we couldn’t figure out the route passed, we ended up strolling along on the front lawn of the house. A glance at one of the many windows overlooking the loch revealed the faces of the inhabitants pressed against the glass and one of them was gesturing with his arms the way back and around the back of the house,  Oops, got that wrong then! Back on track, which was a very extravagant cobbled drive for about half a mile to the gate house, we were back onto the loch side track all the way into Dalwhinnie.

 It was now 15:30 and my nose was in the air sniffing out food which I found at the little tearoom and bunkhouse, unknown to me Freddie and Garry were looking for the bunkhouse to collect their food parcel. They walked right past. Scampi, chips and peas, mmmm!

The spot for camping was the little green opposite the café with table and chairs, the owner very kindly also gave us the use of the showers and toilets in the bunkhouse. The tent was up and organised in no time, now a short stroll down to the filling station/Post office to collect my food parcel and send home all the maps I was finished with, Last year whilst doing the Cape Wrath Trail, Moira (my wife) complained that when I sent a parcel home with all the things I was done with I hadn't enclosed a present for her, this year I would remedy that, I enclosed a Curlywurly!. Time now for a shower and a shave as I was starting to look and smell a bit like Robinson Crusoe.

    The evening was spent in the café in the company of all the other challengers who had arrived in from their chosen routes discussing the usual topics.

All the tents were occupied by 21:30 and the evening chorus of snoring, burping and farting had begun.

 ZZZzzz, snore, ZZZzzz, burp, ZZZzzz, fart, ZZZzzz!

 

 

Wednesday 15th May Dalwhinnie to Ruigh-Aiteachain bothy 35km

 

Up, packed and away by 07:30. Today was bright, dry with a cold wind  off Loch Erricht. Today’s walk started down the road to the filling station and then by following the aqueduct all the way to the reservoir,

at this point I turned off, now on the track which leads to the bealach between Meall Chuaich and Bogha-Cloich, a choice has to be made here, do I go through the bealach to the East side of Loch an t-Seilich or do I go up the zig zag path to the plateau and down the other side to the West side of the loch?

 I decided to go through the Bealach, no path with heather bashing all the way. As I progressed through in bright sunshine I saw the first of many Mountain hare, still quite white in colour, they wouldn’t break cover until I almost stood on them, each time I would get a rush of Adrenaline! Some of the winter snow still lay on the East slopes and the odd Grouse and black Grouse was seen.

 A good rest was taken when I arrived at the East end of the loch, in the sheltered lee of a building. From here it was a short walk on the black stuff to a gate and track that led into the next glen and Alt coire bhran. I arrived at 13:30 in a cold wind and it had started raining again. Because I was unable to camp and fish on the fourth day at Loch Sron Smuir, I was now one day ahead of plan and would miss the cheese and wine party at this location, what a shame, this wasn't the place to have a day off, I decided to take it at Braemar where I could get my washing done. I decided to plod on to glenfeshie as it was too early in the day, back to the track and uphill on the edge of a small pine wood plantation, easy going on a good track for the last 4 miles to Glen Feshie.

     What a beautiful glen, scattered Scots pine trees and Junipers with the river  meandering through the middle, low in water,  exposed pebbles showing on both banks. I chose to cross the river where it splits, forming two islands, will I cross by taking my boots off an doning the Crocs? Na, to hang with that, a breenge across with no finness will do! The bothy was only a couple of hundred yards away. At the bothy I met the Fowkes family, Craig Smith, Allan Brown and the three Belgains. What I did notice that night was that I was the only smoker on the event to that point, I met one other at the bothy and together we hid behind the bothy like the black sheep of the family that we are. 
     A caretaker for the bothy arrived, I'm not sure if he was there because the reputation of the event precedes it or he was concerned as to what would happen to the bothy, he settled down for the night with us all while we prepared our freeze dried meals, He on the other hand  produced a frying pan and pork chops! everyone paused when the air filled with the delightful smell, all eyes transfixed on that pan as it sizzled and spat, real food, drool, drool, drool! If he had left the pan unattended for even a split second they would have vanished. 
     With that painful episode out of the way and my delightful freeze dried meal consumed it was time to wash up and prepare for bed, this bothy has a toilet in an outhouse, when I say a toilet I mean it in a loose term. A concrete  floor with a hole in it which is piped to a septic tank, this is the comical bit, someone has taken an old school chair and ripped off the seat part and replaced it with a toilet seat, including the lid, this is then placed over the hole. 

                                                                   
 

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!  



Thursday 16th Glenfeshie to White Bridge 26km

 

 

A beautiful morning, dry, bright and next to no wind. Today was going to be a lazy day, I was only going as far as White Bridge so didn't set off until 08:30. Simple walking on a good track and then footpath. As the morning progressed the path deteriorated, it became boggy and wet. I passed Craig, who was lying in the sun having a break. A few day cyclists shot past, the odd Grouse was spooked and in the distance on the hill side deer were grazing. Time for a break! Craig caught up with me and passed, a short time later I caught up with him, he had decided to lighten the load a bit so he threw away his maps.

 

 

Today was nice and simple, an easy going day making it a pleasure to be out on the hill, not many ups and downs

    On reaching White bridge I found the place good for camping, or maybe I was feeling positive about everything because the sun was still out and it was warm for the first time. The tent was up and organised in no time, I washed my socks and T-shirt in the river, now it was time to relax with a cup of coffee in the sun. ZZZzzz! I must have dozed off for a couple of hours, I awoke to the voices of other challengers and stuck my nose out of the tent, Craig had pitched his tent on the far bank. "I recognise that voice" Carl Oddy from the first day had arrived, we caught up with each others route and events since we last saw each other on the first day. Late in the afternoon Manfred arrived with his Cuban fibre suit, pack and Tarp Tent.

    An end to a fantastic day.

 

ZZZZZZZZZZZZ !

 

 

 

 

Part 1 

Part 3