Day Nine, Sunday May
19th 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
20th 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 21st 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 22nd 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 23rd 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!
