TGO Challenge 2013, part three, Braemar to the east coast

Day Nine, Sunday May 19^th 2013

Off early again, I was able to do the road section to Invercauld Bridge before there was much traffic. The worst of the storm had blown over, but there was a huge amount of water in the river.

Leaving the road and climbing into the Balmoral Estate, I was once again struck by the beautiful woodland.

Small streams were bankful, crashing down the hillsides. I was concerned. What was it going to be like once I got back up into the tops?

I even saw a newt in a puddle on the path.

I climbed steadily, stopping for lunch outside the bothy at Gelder Shiel. Here I met a party of day walkers who were just finishing their lunch, and had a brief chat.

The lovely paths that had gone as far as the bothy suddenly stopped, and I was back to some very strenuous peat-bashing uphill for the next mile or so. It was HORRIBLE. I will never walk that section again. Getting back up to the main trackway near Little Conachcraig I collapsed beside the track to recoup my strength, closely followed by Susan and Chris Marshall and Craig Smith, who I met at Braemar Youth Hostel. We shared rather vocal opinions about the so-called path we had just been on. Whilst in a state of collapse we were passed by a number of much less exhausted Challengers who had not detoured via the royal bothy.

Memo for the future. If I ever go this way again I will come up the main trackway, not via this nasty route across the heather!

Getting back on my feet I was very uncomfortable because I had pulled a muscle in my left side whilst heather bashing. I took some pain killer and carried on. The sun came out and I felt a bit better. In fact, it got rather hot. And I was climbing. Climbing a lot. Getting very hot! Then, I got stung by a bee. It bumped into my ribs on the right side and I exploded in pain. Panic. I couldn’t get my pack off because I hurt so much. Then, when I did, I couldn’t get my rucsac to open. I needed my first aid kit! I know I must have over-reacted, but the pain was immense. Eventually I got out the Anthisan and fed myself an antihistamine pill, and sat down for a while. When I stopped shaking I put everything back together and carried on. By now I was in a fairly wobbily state. Shock combined with painkiller plus antihistamine. Not good. I struggled on, seriously overheating in the sun.

As I continued up the track the view of Lochnagar was stunning, but I felt really terrible. I filled up my hat with snow from beside the path and sat down to cool off for a while. I chatted for a while with Craig Smith, who was also sitting there for a rest.

I was considering changing where I was planning to camp for the night. The Estate requests that no-one camps near Spittal of Glenmuick, but it is the logical place to break the route over to Tarfside. I had been going to detour to Glas-Allt-Shiel but in my current state I felt so poorly that I didn’t want to do anything I didn’t have to. Susan and Chris had earlier mentioned that they were planning to camp in the valley above Spittal. Craig had been in the area a lot with D of E training groups and also thought I could get my head down there.

The more I thought about it the less I liked the idea of the detour to Glas-Allt-Shiel. I decided to risk doing what Susan and Chris had suggested, climbing into the valley above Spittal of Glenmuick and camping there. Still lightheaded and very wobbly I pushed on, refilling my hat with snow a couple of more times when I needed to cool down again. There was something very soothing about having a gentle trickle of meltwater down my head and neck as I fried under the sun! Finally the climbing ended, and I was able to drop down 300m to the visitor centre at Spittal of Glenmuick. 

I wasn’t the only one to have difficulty that day. When I passed through the visitor centre the party of walkers I had seen earlier at Gelder Shiel were waiting with their bus. Another group of walkers from their club were late back from climbing Lochnagar, and they had not heard anything from them. By now it was about 6.30, and they were very overdue. I wished them well and left, plodding uphill again, following the lower Allt Darrarie. 

I climbed for a while until I was able to look back and just see a small patch of trees below. I guessed no-one at the visitor centre would see me up here, so I started to look for a pitch.

Eventually I found a pitch beside the stream for my Trailstar and settled down for the night.

Day Ten, Monday May 20^th 2013

The day dawned misty. As I ate my breakfast tantalising patches of sunlight appeared and disappeared again, making me wonder if the sun would burn the mist off fairly soon.  Climbing to the top of the valley past snowdrifts I knew another demanding day lay ahead.

By now I was coming to terms with the fact that peat hag sploshing on a compass bearing is limited to about a mile an hour, with massive exertion.

I was delighted to arrive exactly on target for the bothy at Shielin of Mark. I had been told it would suddenly appear below me as I crested a ridge – and there it was, down below me! 

I popped inside and decided I would have to be desperate to ever want to stay there – I have never been in such a damp building before.

Wanting a treat I pulled out my bag of sweeties for the day, only to find that the fudge had melted in the heat of the previous afternoon, and cemented itself into a sugary breccia with jelly babies and minstrels! 

My initial dismay at finding my treats bag in this state soon turned to pleasure, as I bit off mouthfuls of mixed delight.

Another mile of bog-snorkling uphill on a compass bearing brought me to the summit of Muckle Cairn. Spot on again. I can do this navigation lark well if I concentrate.

Suddenly I was over the top, and the whole terrain changed. 

A very steep descent brought me down to Stables of Lee and the track along Glen Lee. Whilst on this track I met a party of very badly under-equipped foreign tourists who had walked miles off their map. I gently suggested that they should not go any higher up without proper equipment – and a few minutes later I saw them heading back to safety…

… that is, providing they avoided this little friend!

I was just thinking that it was time for a brew when I found this fabulous seat at the bottom end of Loch Lee …

... where I had this magnificent view whilst sipping my cup of tea.

Pushing on, and thinking about getting a meal at St Drostan’ I passed the castle at Invermark, on the way to Tarfside.

Suffice to say I camped on the green in Tarfide with other Challengers and had a lovely meal, prepared for us by volunteers from the ‘Over the hill club’ at St Drostan’s.

Day Eleven, Tuesday May 21^st 2013

The next morning I was up early and off before many other walkers. I saw this lovely willow sculpture outside ‘The Retreat’, but did not stop in for breakfast as many Challengers do.

In comparison to the wild terrain I had become used to this farm country seemed lush. Wild flowers covered the verges – in this clump there were bluebells ranging from deepest purple though pink to almost white.

After road-bashing for a few miles (when Ron turned up unexpectedly to make arrangements for our meeting at the coast) I dropped down to the path alongside the River Esk.

After a short while, the path just vanished into a morass of rocks and pools, and become completely impassable. Puzzled, I clambered precariously up the bank.

When I was just about losing the will to live, I suddenly stepped out onto a much better path which was running higher up the bank. 

How I had missed this when I had originally gone down to the river I don’t know. Perhaps it was not running at that height in that location.This path was well maintained, and obviously had the tourist in mind, with seats in little nooks, and all sorts of ‘prettyfication’, including this rather nice wooden butterfly sculpture.

In places the path seemed to pass through a magical world. I had thoughts of Rivendell from Lord of the Rings in this glade. 

The river cut deeply through the rocks, but was not as spectacular as Linn of Dee. 

The whole bank became a fishing venue as I approached Edzell, with steps down to fishing ‘pegs’ and signs marking different beats. Eventually I came out onto a bridge which was the border between Aberdeenshire and Angus, and shortly afterwards reached Edzell where I had a wonderful lasagne followed by a fruit crumble and custard at the ‘Tuck Inn’. Although huge portions, it must be said that the food just ‘fell in’, to be followed by gallons of lovely tea! Thinking ahead to my last evening I visited the shop in Edzell to stock up on comestibles, then set out on the long road-walk to Northwater Bridge.

The less said about the long trudge the better. Suffice to say I was very glad to reach the site and get pitched, even happier to sit around a picnic table with other Challengers, sharing our last evening before having to return to ‘normality’.

Day Twelve, Wednesday May 22^nd 2013

All good things have to come to an end they say. I was certainly very sad as I set off on my last day of this year’s Challenge. It was bright but chilly, the nagging wind keeping my gloved doing the on/off shuffle again. The lowland countryside was so lush in comparison with the mountains. I trekked along country lanes – and Ron found me again, and fed me sweeties before zooming off to wait at the beach.

One of the highlights of this section of the walk was this juxtaposition of old and new, an ancient standing stone close by concrete pre-cast sections that looked as if they were left over from a job at the nearby farm-yard. 

I think they were just there as a matter of chance, but the sight tickled my sense of humour though.

Then, the moment I had been looking forward to and dreading all in one. The first glimpse of the sea.

After negotiating the most dangerous section of the whole trip – a short section of the A92, on a bend, with no footpath, I got down to the last short section of the route, to see this warning to beware of toads (!) before getting to the car park and meeting up with Ron.

At the last moment, it seemed that my camera had died – but I had one last battery to record my arrival at Nether Warburton, and the ‘feet in the sea’ moment.

The hardest part of the whole trip had to be getting back up the beach up the soft shifting sand.  I was both glad and sad to be finished – and already starting to think about my next route!

Getting to the Park Hotel to sign out was a wonderful moment – but the building was stifling and very very hot, so I rushed through the formalities and quickly got Ron to take me back to the campsite.

Aftermath, Thursday May 23^rd 2013

Lots and lots of Challengers constantly arriving at the campsite. Unfortunately there was a bitter wind, so hanging around chatting became impossible. Everyone retreated either to their sleeping bags or to the pub.

Thursday passed in a blur of going shopping (I HAD to get nail varnish to match my TGO T-shirt) then snoozing, eating and keeping out of the freezing wind. Finally it was time to get my glad rags on for the after-walk bash, and paint my nails to match the T-shirt.

The Park was a sea of orange. I was a mere youngster. I was in awe of the number of significantly fit older people who had been taking part this year, legends like Lou, 84 and Phillis his wife who is 81, from USA, 

…and David Towers, who is 80.

Much wine was consumed, and a good time was had by all.

Roll on TGO 2014 – and I hope I get a place!