Loch Laggan to Laggan – Spring In my Step

The coldest night camping I have known. My toothpaste froze in the tent. My tent froze in the Universe. The Universe froze above me. When I went for a pee in the neet the stars were in my face. No moon. Incredibly raw and real and wonderful. I couldn’t do more than a minute outside in the freezing cold, vainly looking for any sign of the Aurora Borealis. The tent was as solid as a shed with ice and frost coating it inside and out.

This morning I didn’t want to get out of my sleeping bag, although I was fully clothed, including my down jacket. Eventually I ate breakfast, a half tin of cold beans, a coco pops bar, two Dairylea sections and some water. I packed as much as I could inside the tent but rolling up sleeping mats and sleeping bags needs outside space. Luckily the sun gave an impression of warmth, even though it was still below freezing when I set off at 9am hundred o’clock. And Loch Laggan still had an almost imperceptibly thin icy mist.

I was walking up the east side of the Loch which was shaded from the sun by a mountain to the east, so the cold persisted late into the morning. The view across the Loch, duplicated by the reflection, was great.

I needed to make good time this morning and I kicked off at a pace. By lunchtime I had walked the length of the lakeside stretch, round about 7 miles I’d guess, so I stopped for a picnic. Two Dairylea sections and five dates. Supplies were running low and I was trying to save some food for my evening meal in the tent.

In the afternoon the path rose into a dark wood. These are so dense that even I find them sometimes creepy. When you’ve not seen anyone all day and you’re tired, and you’ve seen the movie Deliverance, then you’d prefer not to see anybody in this wood.

Diddle ing ding ding!

After a long uphill and down dale slog I made it to more open territory looking towards the distant mountains of the southern Cairngorms.

It’s easy to think how daft you are to be a bit twitchy about dark, dense and silent places when you are back in sunshine. But it was too silent, if you know what I mean. Dull, like Mirkwood.

Crossing the pass between west and east, everything was now running into the North Sea rather than the Atlantic. In this Glen, down into the River Spey first. And I was by the Spey before you could say ‘Simple old idiot’. I was looking for a spot to pitch my tent and there were a few, but I was reluctant following last night’s very low temperatures. Eventually I walked past a bloke fishing for salmon and asked him if he knew anywhere to stay in the village of Laggan, which I was close to. He was a Glaswegian called Jimmy. You couldn’t make it up! He had been visiting this area since he was a kid and was well known. His advice was the Laggan Hotel just outside the village, which he rang from his mobile and got me a bargain because he knows the owners. Tonight sorted.

Seventeen miles today with that lairy rucksack. I’ll eat well and sleep well tonight.

Night night.