The Longest Day

Reyt good movie that was. John Wayne, Richard Burton and some others too. My longest day was today. What a breakfast. I’m a bit porky but even I couldn’t finish it. Off at 9.00 and by road to Richonic, which put some mileage under my belt quickly. From there the route goes across rough country up a long straight valley past two sizeable lochs and on to Achfary, which was my target. 

There was a bit of a path but it was waterlogged and my boots and socks were soaked within two minutes. Deja vu. It was going alright until it started to snow, and at first I thought that it couldn’t possibly settle.

Within half an hour the glen was covered in it. Us in Scotland call a valley a glen. The temperature dropped below freezing. My trousers were soaked as much as my feet and I came to my first river without a bridge. I waded it. It didn’t make me any wetter.

I kept going up the valley glen thing but kept slipping on the snow. I wished I had my snow grips.

To my left was Arkle, a magnificent 700m plus mountain with Foinaven behind it at 900m. 

After four hours of slog I came across a track and followed it to an empty Lodge on Loch Stack. What’s wrong with this blog? My spark’s gone. 

Anyway by 5.00 in the afternoon I’d made it to a dump called Achfary. I’d been looking for places to pitch Wilson but everywhere was either peat bog, covered in water or covered in snow. My hands were bleeding from clutching on to the poles for eighteen miles in dog rough country, my feet were blistered and bleeding and my arms were bruised from falling. The snow had stopped. At least that was one blessing. I knocked on a few doors but nobody answered and there were no b&b signs. After 15 minutes of sitting map reading and deliberating I decided to do the next day’s walk that evening. It would keep me warm and there would be a better outcome.

I said to myself if I could make the summit of the pass near Ben Dreavie by 6.30 then I should be able to make it to Kylesku before dark. There is a lot of logging activity going on and public access isn’t allowed through parts of the mountainside but I was able to climb over the big wooden slatted gates, getting a foothold on the No Access sign. By 6.20 I made the top but the path at that height was covered in snow and it was starting to snow again. 

I got a new lease of life and almost jogged down the hillside with my rucksack bouncing up and down on my back. By now with wet clothing and wet Wilson in it the weight had increased a bit but I didn’t feel it. I just wanted to get to Kylesku. As I descended the weather improved into the evening. 

 The Deer were watching me limp towards the end. Georgie had booked me into the Kylesku hotel courtesy of Maggie as a birthday present.

“Hey white boy what you doing uptown, you chasing all our pretty deer around?         

Oh pardon me stag it springs to my mind, I’m just waiting for a tooty friend of mine.”

 Got there and got warm and dry.