Week 11 - Wishing Your Life Away

30 June
Distance to date: somewhere around 1115 miles

The end is within sight. If all goes to plan and no legs drop off, then we should reach JOG seven days from now.

I'm not wanting to wish my life away and it's no reflection on our enjoyment of this trip, but our minds have started turning to the After and all of the things to which we're looking forward.

They're all normal things that one usually takes for granted.

Sleeping in a bed for more than three consecutive nights.

Sleeping in the same bed for more than two consecutive nights.

Being able to get drinking water without looking at a map or having to detour further than the kitchen tap.

Having a cup of tea that doesn't taste of peat.

Being able to wash on a daily basis.

Having clean underwear every day.

Having a choice of different clothes to wear.

Not having to put on wet shoes.

Living in a room in which one can stand up - and in which we can both manoeuvre at the same time.

Having a shave (Mick's very beardy indeed after 11 weeks and my legs are positively yeti-esque!).

Of course all of that comes at a price. We will have to return to reality.

Day 76 - After Loch An Nid to After Inverlael

29 June
Distance: 15 miles (plus a bit of wandering around a forest)
Number of people seen out walking today: 5 (one group of four and a singleton, all within a ten minute period and all off for a jaunt up An Teallach)

Yesterday the streams appeared to be quite full. Then it rained through the late afternoon and evening and torrentially most of the night. By comparison with their state this morning, yesterday's streams were mere trickles.

Getting up late and with reluctance, given the frantic drumming of rain on taut nylon, we packed away expecting a grim and damp day ahead.

Luck was on our side. After a couple of heavy downpours early on, as we made our way up a good track, the weather started to clear. By the time we were approaching Corrie Hallie the sun was showing signs of bursting through and the mountain tops were clear (and what mountain tops they are!).

The second uphill pull of the day was out of Dundonnell, and the sun beating down was a very pleasant change - we even started overheating!

Two pulls out of valleys were not enough for us on this day. After lunch we attacked the third, and steepest of the day - if Anquet is to be believed this is one of the biggest ascent days of the whole trip.

The third uphill didn't go entirely smoothly. I always get annoyed when either I don't know where I am, or when I can't find the way to go and that annoyance only increases when such circumstances occur near the end of a day - particularly a day with lots of upping and downing.

So, there we were with only 3km to go, standing in the midst of a large construction site in the forest above Inverlael, trying to find the track we needed to take which, according to the End to End Trail book, zig zags up the felled hillside.

The description in the book said to ignore the first track, a while before, and that track was shown on the sketch map. What it didn't mention, in words or sketch, was the second track which happened to be about five yards before the one we wanted. To make things even more tricky the one we wanted has clearly not been used in a lot of years and is completely overgrown with young firs, bracken and heather. To make things even more tricky, neither the track we could see nor the one we wanted was marked on the OS map, so we only had the guide book words and sketch to go on.

Not being happy that we were going the right way we first tried the visible track, but when it didn't zag back on itself we had to conclude that it wasn't going in our direction. Back we went and scratched our heads again.

"Perhaps we can just get out of the forestry via the main track and follow the outside edge up the hillside", we thought. We tried it, but were thwarted by the construction works. Back we went, scratching our heads and dreaming of a nice warm tent and a cup of tea.

Off went Mick to bash through the bracken and new trees in the hope of finding this elusive zig-zagging track. Personally, after the Hideous Nightmare 2km From Hell last week, I was reluctant to give up on finding the right route and taking a direct line.

Standing back on the main path, looking up the hillside, I then noticed the vaguest of lines in the bracken. Up through it I waded and within a few yards it was obvious that I was on the long abandonned track. Success. The cup of tea was getting closer.

We had already decided that we would stop short tonight, purely because tomorrow is a short day so we thought we would even up the mileages a bit.

It was a good decision. As we were choosing a pitch the rain started. We threw the tent up without our usual care of ensuring that it was as level and lump free as possible and had just got in side when it started coming down like stair rods again.

A wind is accompanying that rain. We're being fairly whipped by it just now. I think we're safe from the midges tonight.

Post Script: the Steripen lives! Sitting in the tent this evening, I just thought that I'd give it another go, just in case it had dried out, and to my surprise it worked. There's still lots of moisture in the light tube, so I'm not convinced that it would be effective, but it shows hope that it may recover in time.

Day 75 - Kinlochewe to After Loch An Nid

28 June
Distance: 14.75 miles
Number of people seen out walking in last 7 days: 0*

In many of the places that we're walking at the moment we get a real sense of remoteness. We can walk for a day without seeing a road or house and we've gone a week without seeing another person other than in cars or in villages. Standing on a high pass, with towering mountains around us (when we have the visibility to see that they are towering) it feels like we're a very long way from anyone else and from anything man-made (except of course all of the things we're wearing and carrying!).

Coming from a crowded area of the country and being familiar with the much smaller spaces of the Southern Snowdonian hills and the Lake District it's good to feel the big open spaces up here.

Alas today we didn't get the vistas to go with the feeling.

I know that we were jolly lucky with the weather for the first couple of months of this walk, and that all the rain now is just averaging things out, but really, I've had enough of rain!

Again our walk had the same pattern as previous days. With showers falling on us, we walked up a valley, alongside a loch and then climbed up a pathless hillside to a pass then down the other side to another loch. The ingredients may be repetitive, but the terrain and scenery are always different and the views are usually something more than stunning.

We felt sure that the views today would have been absolutely first class, but we'll not know that for sure unless we return in better weather. In particular, from what we could see of the single huge sloping slab of mountainside on the opposite side of Loch An Nid, I would very much have liked to have seen it better.

But the wetness. Oh my, it was wet underfoot to an amusing degree today. It was pretty wet from above too, with the drizzle and rain being far more sustained than the dry spells. The bonus of the wetness was that the many waterfalls that we passed were being shown off in all their glory.

In spite of the wetness underfoot the pathless bits of the pass seemed much easier than similar passages in recent days.

We needn't actually have been pathless as much as we were. We could have followed a trodden line from the top of the pass down to Loch An Nid, except that to do so would have required a river crossing at the bottom that we thought may be ill-advised in the conditions. So we yomped down the other side of the stream, thinking as we went that our feet were so wet that wading across the river at the bottom couldn't have got them wetter, and of course, when we got to the bottom we found the river to be far more fordable than the streams we had encountered earlier.

We completed our walk quickly (or perhaps it was more that it was a shorter walk and we didn't stop for lunch) and by just gone 2.30 we were pitching the tent. After last night's campsite interlude we're back in our proper position tonight: on the edge of a babbling stream with towering hills around us.

(*The number of people seen still stands at zero but we did walk past a tent today. And we saw fresh footprints somewhere else. It's amazing how excited one can get about seeing fresh footprints!)

Day 74 - River Coulin to Kinlochewe

27 June
Distance: 7 long miles
Number of people seen out walking in last 6 days: 0

Last night's wind and rain had gone by this morning, which meant that we awoke to a midge-fest.

It was an exercise in packing away not just within the confines of the tent, but within the confines of the inner tent.

Once out trying to out-pace the midges the walk started easily enough along tracks, where the rain started gently to fall again.

As we left the track to make our way through a forest we expected the going to be hard. For the next seven days we're following the route described in the Cicerone End to End Trail book, and the description for the passage through this forest did not give us an optimistic feeling.

That bit of the route turned out to be fine (wet underfoot, but that's expected).

It was the final couple of miles into Kinlochewe, which the route description made sound so easy ('pathless but easy walking' then 'follow the path ... into Kinlochewe') that turned out to be today's trial. At one point we became so convinced that we weren't where we thought we were that we broke out the GPS. It told us that we were exactly where we thought we were. It didn't make the going any easier, mind.

We did finally pick up the path into Kinlochewe and after what felt like a much longer walk that it was, we arrived in the village at just after noon.

After establishing that the Post Office closes at 10.30am (so that's me carrying the dead Steripen for at least another four days), we headed for the campsite.

'Sorry no tents' said the sign outside. Now that was unexpected. Not only do I have a note on the schedule that says 'It does take tents', but we phoned earlier in the week to check too.

So we popped in to find that we had been given erroneous information earlier in the week. The main reason that they don't take tents is that they have no grass - except for one tiny corner where there's a small lawn laid on hardstanding.

We weren't to be homeless for the night. The warden is very friendly and helpful and said that if we could use the little patch of grass then we could stay there. She warned us that we'd likely need rock pegs.

Funnily enough, I didn't pack rock pegs and a hammer, but I also wasn't in fear, in this sheltered corner, of a wild gale (famous last words?), so we made do with shallowly laid pegs. Even better, the warden then donated the £9.30 fee to Macmillan.

For the fact that we got a pitch at all, I'll overlook the fact that there's a midge gathering happening at our tent as I type this.

Looking at the schedule we find that we've now spent 50 days in a tent and that we're well under-budget on B&Bs. So, as a special treat, we've booked ourselves into the hotel at Oykel Bridge for Monday night.

Alas, we then went on to find that the two hotels in Watten, where we're due to stay next Saturday, are fully booked. That leaves us with a smidge of a problem for the moment. Vic (our emergency crisis resolver as well as web-master) is on the case.

Today's rant (by way of a general rant and not in any way looking a gift horse in the mouth): What's wrong with conventional mixer showers that work with a knob and a valve? They work and they're pretty reliable with little to go wrong. Electronic showers on the other hand, that turn on when they sense someone in front of them (showering that person with cold water) and then randomly turn off and even more randomly think (when your back is turned) that you're touching the 'cold' sensor repeatedly, and then fail to acknowledge repeated touches of the 'hot' sensor - well they're just a bad idea. That was not a pleasing shower experience after three days of smelling.)

Day 73 - Loch Monar to River Coulin

26 June
Distance: about 17.25 miles

It's feeling like our customary setting as I type this. The tent is sitting perched on the very edge of the bank of a stone-bedded (and therefore noisy) river. Once again the rain is drumming down, and today it's being battered by the wind too.

It hasn't been bad weather all day, though. At 6.15 this morning, as I stuck my head out of the tent, I found that my wish had been granted. There were blue skies with fluffy clouds setting off nicely our surroundings of big hills and water.

Off we set at the usual time, under an increasingly cloudy (but still dry) sky, along the wiggly, undulating path along the loch shore until an hour or so later, after a tricky stream crossing (there were the remains of a bridge, but not sufficient remains to consider using them as a means to cross the torrent below) we started heading uphill to our first pass of the day.

It was a similar story to yesterday (although much prettier surroundings, in my opinion). Once the path up to the pass ran out it was a cross country yomp that slowed down our usual pace considerably. It was a tad drier underfoot than yesterday, mind, and at least it wasn't raining, although we were being thrown around occasionally by the blustery wind.

Dropping down into the Glen Carron, amid spectacular scenery, we opted to take a slightly higher path than I'd plotted, which gave the knees a good test on the downward side (the jury's out as to whether it was a test they passed)!

The wind was getting us good and proper as we made our way along the glen to Craig and, perhaps as a result of yesterday's hard day, the limbs were starting to feel tired even though we had a way to go.

In Craig we would have succumbed to the hostel except that it wasn't open at 3pm and we didn't fancy hanging around, so on we plodded steeply up to the Coulin Pass.

The schedule had our day ending at the top of the pass, but even from the map it looked unlikely that there would be suitable ground there, and so it turned out to be.

So, with complaining feet and weary bones we continued on for 2 more miles - giving the heavy rain just enough time to reach us.

The good point about having walked 2 miles into tomorrow (as we kept reminding ourselves as the rain got heavier) is that we now only have a 7-mile day tomorrow. That equates to both a lie-in and an early finish.

Day 72 - Cannich to Half Way Along Loch Monar

25 June
Distance: About 20 miles
Number of people seen out walking since Saturday afternoon: 0

It's been a long hard day; ten hours long with breaks only amounting to about one hour. I'm even inclined to believe that Anquet mapping wasn't too far off in saying that it involved 4000 feet of ascent. It certainly felt like a lot. By the time we made camp I was desperate for a bit of a rest.

The day started easily enough with the walk along the minor road in Glen Cannich. I'm not sure whether it's a dreary glen or whether it was just the rain and low cloud that made it seem that way.

Things got more interesting but a lot more hard-going when we struck out to head over to Glen Strathfarrar. It was a 3.75 mile walk that took us 3 hours. Fortunately the rain stopped for most of those three hours, but it was still a wet experience.

After all the rain of the last few days, overnight and this morning the burns were full and water was positively running off the hillsides. Added to that we had substantial quantities of bogs and hags to deal with and on a drier note the odd land-slip - one of which forced us into a couple of balancing-precariously-on-rocks river crossings.

Once down in Glen Strathfarrar and once we'd hunted down the well concealed bridge, we found that the track along the glen is actually a tarmacked road. It made for less squelchiness in the boots, but as if on cue, as we left the wet ground behind the rain started again.

Having taken so long in the crossing between glens, it looked unlikely that we would make it to our intended destination today. However, despite good camping spots two miles short, we pressed on - being pleased at the end of the day that we had done so in spite of the tiredness.

We've found ourselves a good pitch here, next to a very noisy stream, with superb views that we got a glimpse of earlier when the cloud lifted a while (it's lashing it down again now). Fingers crossed that we have a fine early morning tomorrow to appreciate them more over breakfast.

Day 71 - East of Clach Bheinn to Cannich

24 June
Distance: 9 miles

At 1.20am I woke up. Two things immediately struck me: I needed to visit the en-suite and I was cold.

The latter prevented the former until half an hour or so later I conceded that I wasn't going to get back to sleep until I'd resolved both issues.

Re-entering the tent a few minutes later I noted the frost on the fly-sheet.

Zipping up the solid door on the inner tent (we usually just have the mesh shut) I put on my long-sleeved merino wool top over my short-sleeved one that I was already wearing and donned hat and socks. Snuggled back down I was soon warm.

Off went the alarm at the usual time in the morning and my nose, poking out of the sleeping bag, told me that it hadn't got any warmer. There was no way that I was moving until the sun had hit the tent.

When it had finally struggled over the hill top and started warming us up, we opened the door to find a thick frost on the grass in front of us.

Okay, so it's far from unheard of to have such temperatures at night in Scotland, especially when you're in a dip that runs north-south and you're at 1500 feet, but it was still a bit of a surprise.

As such low temperatures would suggest, the morning brought a startlingly blue, clear sky.

Down to Tomich we walked (saved from a failure to navigate by a handy Scottish Rights of Way Society signpost), where we surprised the hotel by popping in for tea and third breakfast at 10am (the sign outside did say 'Morning coffees' and 'food served all day', but perhaps people don't usually take them up on that).

It was then a three mile road walk into Cannich, being chased by a swarm of flies the whole way.

We arrived to be told that our emergency supply parcel hadn't arrived. Fortunately, I could see it behind the desk so didn't require the panic that could have ensued. Amongst a couple of other items, this parcel contained new batteries for the Steripen. Those batteries confirmed that the Steripen is dead. So, as well as being miffed about the price per litre that we've achieved from the device I'm now carrying 100g that I don't need (having missed the POs short opening hours here today).

Week 10 - Random Thoughts

Week 10 has seen us make our way up the middle of Scotland, stitching together paths described in Scottish Hill Tracks. Occasionally my stitching together has involved routes that just wouldn't work, but nowhere have we had any significant detours. More pleasingly, there have been a few places where we've been able to take more direct routes than I'd plotted, always a bonus when it also omits some road walking.

The weather has been somewhat less kind to us than for the previous weeks (admittedly we were remarkably lucky early on), but it's obvious that this area is in desperate need of rain (surely they could have waited two more weeks, mind!).

Pity that the rain isn't deterring the midges. I'm sporting plenty of bites.

As for gear, I think that it's time that I mentioned socks. There was a bit of discussion about socks on here a while back, with reports of longevity of between 215 and 2300 miles per pair. This is how mine have done thus far:

Pair 1 - only used for the first week and a half. Because of footwear issues I was having at the time I wanted to try a thinner pair. I approximate that these only had 50 miles use.

Pair 2 (Bridgedale Endurance Trekker) - approx. 500 miles to date and showing no significant signs of wear. After a wash and tumble dry they're still nice and fluffy.

Pair 3 (Bridgedale Comfort - the thinner pair that I started using in week 2) They've had something in the region of 450 miles use and are getting well and truly onto their last legs now. Soon to be retired to a bin.

Pair 3 (Bridgedale Endurance Trekker) - picked up in Halifax as I expected one of the other pairs imminently to start showing signs of wear. Miles to date 0, even though I've carried them for the last five weeks (so much for lightweight!).

Pair 4 (Sealskinz) - Used a few times in the first 3 weeks, until I switched to boots. Then sent home and retrieved in the latest resupply parcel, now that my boots have started to leak. There's no considerable mileage on these, often only used in camp, so they're doing fine so far.

As for my trousers, the holes in the ankles are now quite sizeable, but I'm hoping that they'll last the distance. They'll most definitely be binned at the end of the trip.

Boots: Like my trousers, it's fingers crossed that they make it to JOG. Giving them one of their now-regular washes last night I noticed that part of the rand on the back of the right boot is coming adrift. They've got something like 800 miles on them to-date.

Day 70 - Fort Augustus to east of Clach Bheinn

23 June
Distance: about 14 miles
Number of people seen out walking: 0

It was another lazy start to the day, approaching 10am by the time we left the supermarket in Fort Augustus with very heavy packs (I was particularly looking forward to elevenses and lunch, as I was carrying both).

The walk out of Fort Aggie over into Glen Moriston was a little less than inspiring, being through forestry. Out of Glen Moriston up to the col between Beinn Bhan and Meall Ruigh Uisdein was barren in an unpretty way and was saved only by the views off to the north-west, where hilltop after hilltop was visible.

Of course I knew that there are an awful lot of hills in these parts, but you really do get to appreciate the magnitude of them when passing by at 2.5mph.

Things improved as we popped over the col as we now had views ahead of us too, although the track we were walking was ugly and the surrounding area didn't have much to recommend it either.

Finding a camping spot didn't look too difficult on paper and it looked as though we should be able to find a good one, with nearby water and views. It wasn't to be.

All we ask for in a pitch is a reasonable amount of flatness, dryness and breeze. Today we were struggling to even get two out of three.

Those ideal looking pitches we'd earmarked from on high turned out to be sodden and even extensive walking around, up hillsides and up and down stream only revealed dry ground on steep slopes.

In the end we settled. It's far from the worst pitch we've ever achieved. It's not as dry as we'd like, but nor is it squelching, and it's flat, plus it's right on the edge of a babbling stream, so there is a certain element of prettiness. Pity it's a bit sheltered; no splendid view and scant breeze. I feel another midge-fest coming on.

Day 69 - Before Melgarve to Fort Augustus

22 June
Distance: 14.5 miles (maybe 15)
Distance to date: just over 1000 miles
Number of people seen before Ft Aggie: 0

Mick tells me that it rained last night like someone had a power hose aimed at the tent and that the wind was lashing. I slept through it all; these mileages seem to be making me sleep well!

It was to the sound of rain drumming to which I awoke this morning and even having indulged in a lie-in it was showing no signs of letting up. The food situation (plus the fact that it's not realistic to hide each time it rains) meant that we couldn't stay where we were, so up we got ready to don waterproofs and head out.

Alas, the rain didn't stop the midges from making a meal out of the exposed parts of my body when I nipped out to use the en-suite, but at least today the Avon Skin-So-Soft was back to being a liquid (shutting that stable door again). Yesterday morning it had solidified in the cold temperature.

As for the walk over the Corrie Yairack Pass to Fort Aggie, well we put our hoods up, our heads down and we marched along. I'm sure that there are views to be had from up there, and fine ones too, but today with the rain and the low cloud all we got to see was the path ahead.

As others have reported the erosion of General Wade's Military Road (the route over this pass) is dreadful. At its worst about eight feet of the surface have been eroded away. The damage that was started by vehicles is now being continued by nature as water gushes along the channels caused by tyres.

The walk wasn't too bad though; the worst parts of the track could be avoided.

Having only paused briefly for second breakfast and having marched on without taking elevenses or lunch we made it to Fort Aggie much earlier than expected for the mileage. During the whole walk the rain had eased for maybe 10 minutes. We arrived dripping and with very wet feet (and legs and hands in Mick's case).

We were greeted by a good campsite (it even has a camp kitchen complete with tables and chairs and a kettle) and, more importantly, our three parcels. We now have food for the next week, a new MP3 player with a new book on for Mick and the new poo-shovel (thanks again Backpackinglight for getting that to us at such short notice).

Tomorrow is scheduled to be a 24.25 mile day. It was clear early on (like in Devon) that there was no way we would want to tackle such a mileage, so we're splitting it in two. So tomorrow we will walk for 5 or 6 hours and see to where we get. Wherever that is, hopefully the weather will oblige us by being a touch drier.

Post Script: yet more interesting food experiences. Tonight's veggie lasagne (or at least that's what the menu sold it as) contained broccoli, cauliflower, swede, carrot chunks and leeks. The only vegetable present that I would expect to find in a veggie lasagne was onion. Still better than the pudding in which I found the unexpected ingredient of one of the chef's hairs...

Day 68 - By Culra Bothy to before Melgarve

21 June
Distance: 17.5 miles

We woke up to a truly spectacular scene. I cannot possibly do it justice with words or with my snapshots.

Our tent was perched on the bank of the stoney river in the valley bottom.

As I stuck my head out at 6am it was to see a herd of deer crossing the river just behind us. The sky was absolutely clear, a startling shade of blue, and all around us were towering mountains, many sporting patches of snow.

It's no wonder that it's such a popular place. We saw more people before 8am than we've seen out and about in any one day since leaving the Pennine Way. There were five other tents nearby and at least five people staying in the bothy (the other side of the river), plus as we walked out (seemingly in the wrong direction - being Saturday everyone else was heading towards the hills as we headed away from them) we saw plenty of people cycling in.

Along the river we headed and along the edges of forestry until before we knew it we were at Kinloch Lagan where the loch was incredibly low on water - as have been most that we've passed.

Heading back into forestry the other side of the loch a marshall warned us that a race was coming through and that very soon we would meet mountain bikes coming towards us at speed.

It was a warning repeated by two more marshalls along the track. At any moment we expected to have to leap out of the way.

When we stopped for lunch an hour later we still hadn't seen a single bike. Perhaps they'd all taken a wrong turn, we pondered?

What we did notice whilst looking at the map and the landscape over lunch was that we were walking two sides of a triangle and that there was no obvious reason why we couldn't just cut across the third.

Over a deer fence we clambered and across land that could so easily have been bog and tussock territory (as was yesterday's similar direct route), but turned out to be mainly dry and relatively easy, with just a couple of stream crossings thrown in for interest.

Having cut just over a mile off our route (avoiding a bit of road walking into the bargain - always good) we finally started seeing the mountain bikes.

Garva Bridge was our intended end point of the day, but that was from where the bike event was starting and it was teeming with people, plus it was only just gone 2pm, which felt a bit early to stop.

So we carried on a little while further, but not dreadfully far.

Rumour (i.e. a Munro bagger we met near Garva Bridge) tells us that it's going to be miserable weather tomorrow, but at least we've got a reasonably short day now. I'm not sure what I'm looking forward to most in Fort Augustus: a proper meal or a hot shower. I think that I need the latter more than the former.

Day 67 - Allt Camghouran to by Culra Lodge

20 June
Distance: 19.5 miles

A quick post today. We were late finding somewhere to camp (and walked further than intended in the process) and other requirements are pressing - like sleeping!

The low point of the day: finding, after walking quite some distance without water and having detoured to a less than satisfactory stream to find some, that the Steripen no longer works. It appears to have water in its mechanism. Seems to me that it's a bit of a weakness in a device designed to be used in water (admittedly the water ingress was caused by rain rather than in use).

Our water shortage was solved later in the day when we left the flat lands behind and found plenty of good streams.

The high point of the day: popping out of the north end of a forest and having the view of Loch Erich open up before us. A heavy shower had just passed through, another was not far behind it, by as we came upon the view it was with a blue sky. We agreed that it was the best of the walk so far.

Things were pretty good beyond Ben Alder Bothy too. The scenery and views are truly magnificent.

And rumour (from a chap we met on his way down from Ben Alder who reported that it had snowed on him on the summit) has it that after four days of rain and showers, tomorrow is going to be fine.

Even better, tomorrow is now down to 16.25 miles, having accidentally walked 6.25 miles further than scheduled today.

Day 66 - East of Killin to Allt Camghouran

19 June
Distance: 17.8 miles

It was a hideous nightmare.

Not the whole day.

The first ten miles were fine. Although on tarmac and although in the rain, they were through Ben Lawers Nature Reserve, which provided stunning scenery with barely any cars.

Innerwick was a disappointment as yet again we had our hopes up of a cup of tea and a slice of cake and again found that although the tea room advertised itself as being open it was shut.

The route out of Innerwick was complicated by a minor failure to navigate, but the back-track wasn't great, and although still accompanied by rain the Pass of the Swines (or Lairig a' Mhuic as you'll find it on the map) was uneventful.

The pathless yomp up to the col and down the other side was hard going (and accompanied by rain), but we can hardly expect an easy ride in this terrain, can we?

Then we got a kilometre or so into Rannoch Forest and the nightmare began.

There was a fallen tree across the track. Nothing overly unusual there, and around it we bashed.

Then we came to another fallen tree and another and another. The next two kilometres were a mess of fallen trees. There was not a single stretch of twenty metres that didn't contain a fallen tree.

We climbed over, under and round. Branches tore at us and in the style of an assault course at times we had to do a belly crawl and at times had to heave ourselves over (backpacks off, backpacks on, repeat).

We would have gone back and found a different route, except that we kept optimistically thinking that after the next obstacle it would improve and then we'd gone so far that to fight our way back would have been worse than going forward.

It was worse than our bash through a forest last week (by a long way), only this time we were on a track (part of Scottish Hill Track 139 according to my notes). It would be no exaggeration to say that this track was impassable - irrespective of the fact that we fought our way through (and I bet there's some information out there somewhere that, if I'd found it, would have told me that three hundred trees block this part of the route).

Our slow passage was of course accompanied by rain.

All that was bad enough (or if your cup is half full then it was quite an adventure), but about three trees from the end of the nightmare (as it turned out) I noticed that the distinctive yellow tip of the poo-shovel handle was missing from the back of Mick's pack.

Eeek. And we're four days out in the wilds!

Leaving Mick and my pack I tackled the assault course in the other direction (much easier without the pack), but didn't find it within half a km, so gave it up as lost.

Ten minutes later a new shovel was on its way to meet us in Fort Augustus as once again Backpackinglight.co.uk came to the rescue. They're turning out to be a jolly handy supplier of emergency replacement items on this trip - and you know that you can rely on their prompt service. Thanks Bob & Rose!

The day didn't have a bad ending (and there were actually dry spells between the periods of rain, so the weather wasn't quite as bad as I've painted it). We've pitched in a lovely location right next to the picturesque Allt Camghouran which puts us 2.5 miles into tomorrow's route (a pre-planned bit of re-shuffling to reduce Saturday's scheduled 22.5 mile day).

Day 65 - Killin (South) to East of Killin

18 June
Distance: 3.5 miles

It was a lazy start to the day. At the time we are usually out walking I was still lounging in bed. At the time that we're usually stopping for second breakfast we were just sitting down for a cooked first breakfast.

Leaving the B&B as late as we thought reasonable it was a slow journey through the village. There were visits to the Post Office, the Co-op and the outdoor shop to way-lay us.

We were quite a while at the Co-op figuring out what to buy to see us through to Fort Augustus in 4.5 days time. Then we were even longer outside trying to cram the big bags of food into our packs. Heaving it onto my back I just reminded myself that it will get progressively lighter as the days go on!

Then there was the outdoor shop - that was a very long visit.

Mick came away with some super shock absorbing Sorbothane footbeds. £20 and the first thing he's had to do with them is cut them in half so that he can wear his orthotics with them, but if they help his feet then it will be worth it. He also invested in a pair of Sealskinz socks in the hope of sometimes having dry feet in this wet weather and on the upcoming terrain.

The exciting find in the outdoor shop was the Avon Skin-so-soft. It's reputed that midges hate it, so it's got to be worth a try.

Finally after chatting for quite a while in the outdoor shop we left town and set out on the road alongside Loch Tay.

There's nothing really to be said about the walk: it was short and entirely uneventful.

Arriving at the campsite the fundraising took its second boost of the day when the owner kindly donated our £10 fee to Macmillan, which added itself to the £15 donated by last night's B&B. I do believe that that takes our fundraising over the £4000 mark :-)

For us personally she also donated some washing detergent. After another hour or so clad in my waterproofs so that we could treat oruselves to more laundry we'll be setting out for four days in the wilds in a reasonable state of cleanliness. All I have to do is remember that if I use the Bushbuddy in those days not to rub soot all over my trousers - which is precisely what I did the day after I last washed my trews!

Weeks 8 & 9 Random Thoughts

18 June
Distance so far: about 930 miles

Here we are in week 10 and I've not given my random thoughts from weeks 8 or 9 yet. Between sleeping, eating, walking, daily blogging and keeping a journal there are just not enough hours in the day.

Here are a few brief thoughts whilst I wait for my tea to rehydrate:

Pennine Way: my verdict was that I liked it a lot. Quite a few people who we met on the way didn't seem to be enjoying it, but it was definitely my cup of tea. I also liked the fact that there were waymarks but not so many as to make the map and a bit of thought redundant.

Boots: It wasn't looking promising for my boots a couple of weeks ago when I noticed that the suede at the toe crease had cracked. This I blame entirely on my abuse of them, having been none too diligent in cleaning them. In the manner of shutting the stable door, I've now got some Nikwax and have been treating them. My fingers are crossed that they make it the distance - I can't be doing with getting hold of or breaking in a new pair at this stage! The fact that the right boot has also sprung a leak is an added annoyance.

Mick's boots: That Mick's right boot is leaking is even more annoying as they are a few hundred miles newer than mine. That part of the sole is not well adhered to the upper is also not pleasing. I think Mick would quietly weep if he had to start over with a new pair of boots.

Weight: We were in a B&B last week which had a set of bathroom scales. They told us that Mick has now lost over a stone - not a big surprise as his trews are hanging off him. I have lost a few pounds but nothing drastic. I have however lost inches. My hip belt is perilously near the end of the stops and my trousers are falling down!

Pocketmail (that's the little device from which these blog posts are sent): A truly fantastic device and perfect for this trip. I was unsure about battery life when we set out but it turned out that the first set of Duracell AAs lasted seven weeks. Not bad considering the amount of daily use it gets.

Day 64 - Gleann Nam Meann to Killin

17 June
Distance: about 17.5 miles
Number of close encounters with bulls: 1

The rain that started just as I was finishing up cooking tea yesterday continued through the night and into this morning. The only time it let up was just as we were about to take the tent down, when it gave a ten minute respite.

Fortuitous timing you may think, except that as the rain stopped out came the midges. Call me picky, but I'd rather have the rain.

The rain duly started again and my goodness did it come down?

By the time we got to Balquhidder, only about 6 or 8 miles into our day, I was thinking that if it was going to continue as it was then an early B&B would be an attractive option.

Pushing such defeatist thoughts aside we carried on through the village and after a brief sojourn for elevenses in the church porch we set out up Glen Kirkton.

By near the top of the pass I was tired and wet and sinking into misery, added to which I'd discovered a leak in my right boot. Oh, and the blister I developed under my little toe yesterday had reformed nicely in the wet boot.

Then we got over the top of the pass and quite unexpectedly the rain stopped and out came the sun. The world was suddenly a rosier place.

A noise made us look up as we made our way down the glen, and there silhouetted on the ridge above us was a huge herd of deer.

Alas, perfection was short-lived. Down came the rain again, accompanying us our final five miles into Killin.

Having decided that we'll have a rest day here we stopped at the first B&B we passed (which explains why we only walked 17.5 miles not the expected 20). Tomorrow we'll walk to the furthest campsite, on the other side of the town, which will put us in a good position to set out again on Thursday.

Day 63 - Kippen to Gleann Nam Meann

15 June
Distance: about 20.5 miles

It was a day that linked tracks together and in doing so used too much tarmac.

There's not a handy path running out of Kippen to the north (or at least not as far as I could find), so our first 8 miles were on roads, where far too many motorists (whose time is clearly too precious to spend ten seconds avoiding pedestrians) glared at us and some shook their heads. We got the feeling that the general concensus amongst those on one particular road was that pedestrians had no right to walk along it - not even those taking up only six inches of the road edge.

We finally got off the road only to find ourselves on a tarmacked track. Groan.

Tarmac finally gave way to unsurfaced track and that led us into a forest where tracks wiggled around and about, doubling the straight line distance that would have seen us to the other side.

I had thought that once we got out the other side of Brig O'Turk (where the 'Tea Room Open' sign was a complete lie) the track would be kinder to our feet. Alas it wasn't to be. We had another couple of miles of tarmac to contend with.

Things did start to get a bit more interesting up this track, mind. There were the two women who were very pleased to have completed the 13.5 mile Mell Circuit. There were the three shepherds who were making an absolute meal of rounding up a small flock of sheep with seven dogs.

And there were the five D of E chaps who were 3km away from completing their Silver expedition. They had a story to tell as one of their number had been airlifted to hospital yesterday after two of the lads had run 2.5 miles to the nearest farm to raise the alarm. It sounded like it had been a trip that they'll remember for more than the weight of their packs (in typical D of E style there were some big packs going on with lots of things lashed to the outside).

In an effort to reduce tomorrow's mileage, we didn't stop at the intended place today but decided to push on until 17.15 and see how far we got. The answer was that we got about 2 miles into tomorrow's walk, reducing it to a more palatable 20 miles.

We found ourselves a rather nice pitch too, with good views and good water close to hand. Unfortunately we didn't get a dreadfully long time to enjoy the location before the rain started.

It's rain that's forecasted to last for three days.

Day 60 Photo - Thanks to Rodger and Richard

On the Union Canal between Edinburgh and Linlithgow

Day 62 - Kilsyth to Kippen

15 June
Distance: 14.5 miles

After our mammoth day yesterday we arrived at Allenfauld Farm B&B, which turned out to be a B&B well worthy of mention and recommendation.

In this lovely farm house, complete with stunning furniture and in-keeping decor we had a very large and comfortable room. All of that makes for a nice B&B, but this one was made even better by our attentive host Libby, who went beyond the call by driving us to and from the pub for tea last night.

It's apparently a night-stop popular with LEJOGers too, as we're the fourth through in recent weeks - and the other three who are currently on their way are not amongst the five who we have met - so there really are a lot of people walking this walk right now.

Heading out of the door rather later than usual this morning, we had a change from the last couple of days. We're away from the canals now and so as we left the farmhhouse we headed behind it, directly onto the hills.

The path marked on the map was not evident on the ground so we were immediately in our element yomping through long grass, reeds and bogs (I let Mick go ahead of me so that each time he fell into a hole I knew not to follow in his very footsteps!).

An hour or so in we hit a forest and found ourselves to be a wee touch off course. However, as the woodland ahead of us had been felled, we decided to just yomp on through down to the first track running through it, a move which we completed successfully.

Then came the really interesting bit of the day. A veritable adventure in fact.

I can only assume that when I plotted this and failed to make any advisory comment on the itinerary or on the map it was late at night and I had imbibed a quantity of wine, as the route I had plotted ran directly through the forest - not on any sort of marked path. I'm well aware that plantations of this nature are usually a tangle of impassable branches, yet I had assumed that in order to get from one track running east-west to the one running parallel, half a kilometre lower down, we would be able to take a straight line.

Having not noticed this random bit of route planning until too late, we were faced with two options: stick to the plan, as mad as it was; or walk a 6km detour so as to keep on the forest tracks.

Obviously, we stuck to the plan, which was fine at first because there was a bit of a clearing where a burn ran. Then the clearing ended and we variously found ourselves walking down the burn, scrambling up and down its edges, scrambling around fallen trees and bashing through the dense dead lower branches of the firs.

It did strike me half way through this escapade that if one of us was to come a cropper and require rescue then it would be a very tricky operation and would deserve a huge amount of censure from the rescuers.

As it went we came out on the intended track (in the intended place too) and after taking our tops off to shake out the three pounds of bits of dead tree we continued on proper tracks.

Having rounded the loch (the name of which I can't recall and I don't have the map on me) we sat down for five minutes. It wasn't the prettiest location to sit - at the side of a road and next to a car park, but I was glad that we did.

Had we not stopped we would have followed the route I'd marked, however given the time to look around us and at the map Mick noticed that we could take a more direct route up a track opposite us. I took a bit of convincing that it would work out okay (this track was not marked on the map), but once convinced was more than happy to omit the few kilometres of road walking and the descent-to-reascend that would have been involved in the intended route.

The direct route worked just fine (well, ignoring the small issue of a ravine to cross) taking us to the track that would lead us through Ballochleam Spout and down to Kippen.

The view from the Spout was fantastic. Lump upon lump upon lump of hills spreadout ahead of us (and with heavy rain showers passing both right and left of us).

Down to Kippen we dropped, miraculously missing all but a few spots of the passing rain.

Donations update: I am taken aback. There we were walking up the road to the B&B last night when a voice behind us checked "You're walking for Macmillan?" We confirmed that was the case and he handed to us £20 before heading down his driveway without further conversation. That £20 was further boosted this morning with another £20 donation from our B&B. Two donations that caused us to both end a day and start a day with a spring in our step.

Post Script: Another food post script tonight. We thought that our meal at The George in Melrose was good, but that's now in the shadows of the Cross Keys in Kippen. I had an asparagus and broad bean risotto starter, an asparagus and broad bean main course (tiny quantity mix up on the first attempt which was swiftly resolved without fuss) and a lemon tart pudding. Mick had pork loin mains with rhubarb creme brulee pudding. If I lived anywhere near here we'd made a regular visit to this place. If you find yourself in Kippen (and it's a fine place to come if you're walking LEJOG) then I'd strongly recommend a meal at the Cross Keys.

Day 61 - Linlithgow to Kilsyth

14 June
Distance: about a million miles
Actual distance: 22 miles

Well, I'm glad those two days are over. I've had enough of flat ground, big miles and hard surfaces!

Today was not without merit. In fact it had a couple or three notable points.

My starting point for planning a route along the length of the country was that I wanted to go via the Falkirk Wheel. As it turned out, when planning the route in detail, via the Falkirk Wheel was the obvious route in any case, and today was the day for this highlight.

In fact, it was the highlight that kept me going along the almost lifeless (there were big shoals of fish basking in the clear water in places) canal all morning - that and the views of the hills over to our right.

Before the wheel was another feature that I'd not expected: a 620 metre long tunnel, complete with significant water seepage through the roof at times, just to give those walking through the darkness an occasional shower.

A while was spent at the wheel, sitting in the sunshine and watching it working. I like things mechanical and the Falkirk wheel is an impressive structure. I would quote some facts and figures about it, except that the Visitor Centre seemed strangely devoid of any information. Either it was well hidden or you have to take the audio tour - and given the length of our day I didn't want to spend the time on an audio tour. Nevertheless, I went away happy to have seen three rotations of the wheel.

Dragging ourselves away after about an hour, we were onto the Forth and Clyde canal, which at least has the feature of a few locks (the Union Canal wiggles around a bit to keep to the same contour rather than having locks).

Here hoards of people were out enjoying the sunshine, walking or cycling along the towpath (at least until the rain hit, then everyone mysteriously disappeared), but again there was scant life on the water. A few ducks, a canoe and a (smelly) motor-craft.

By a mile from our destination we were suffering from last half mile syndrome, added to which Mick found that he had incurred his first blister of the trip. 880 miles and he goes and gets a blister!

Our B&B for tonight is up the hill on the north side of Kilsyth. That was a shock to the legs after the flatness of the canals. In the world of Anquet mapping (and probably other mapping software too) today's ascent was 1500 feet. Phil over at Doodlecat wrote a post a few months ago about the over-estimation of ascent by mapping software (worth reading, but I can't post a link just now) and if memory serves he reckoned the software to be out by around 20%. Well, some days I reckon that Anquet is about right, others it's clearly way off the mark. Today it was way off.

By my calculation today (a bit difficult to be accurate; I think the ink was all but out when I printed today's map) we crossed no more than 20 contour lines, at least five of them downhill. An alleged 1500 feet of ascent versus a reality of about 500. That's quite an overstatement isn't it?

Post Script: interesting food experience tonight. I'm not sure that including swede and baby new potatoes in the filling of fajitas is entirely authentic...