Day 81 - Kinbrace to before Dalnawillan Lodge

4 July
Distance: 16 miles
Number of people seen out walking since last Saturday: 0

It was another hard day, this time because of the terrain, but on paper it seems that it should be the last hard terrain day. We have a bit of cross country tomorrow, then the rest is on roads and tracks.

Having left our camping spot this morning it was back across the rickety suspension foot bridge bearing a warning that it was unsafe structure and that use was at our own risk, then along the river bank. The river bank gave varied walking; sometimes the going was good, sometimes it was exceedingly wet. We both hit the road, after a mile and a half or so, with comprehensively wet feet.

When I plotted the last week or ten days of the route I kept commenting on the fact that we would have wet feet. I wasn't wrong! However, I did have a secret weapon in my bag and at second breakfast I changed into my Sealskinz. Bliss!

The climb up Knockfin Heights was broken when we stopped at a good stream to fill up our drinking water (an "aquafaff"), then it was up through heather and tussocky grass onto the huge flat plateau.

The plateau is the home to many peat hags and bogs and after successfully getting ourselves to the trig point we took a bearing and headed off to try to find the correct valley into which to descend.

It was during the bearing following that I decided to take a quick swim in a peat bog.

A bit too far into wet peat I wandered and within a split second my left leg disappeared to the knee. Feeling the other foot fast disappearing there seemed only one thing I could do to save myself from sinking further: I sat down - straight into the bog.

So, not only were both of my feet stuck, one to the knee, the other to the ankle, but I also had a very wet bottom.

It's a good job Mick was there, or I could have been in quite a fix trying to get out. Hoisting me (a giggling me) from under the arms he dragged me out.

For the next hour or so I had the unpleasant experience of walking in wet trousers and wet pants. Thank goodness for Paramo Parameta A fabric - it does dry quickly. However, I am now left with filty trousers complete with very dodgy water marks that make it seem like I've had a bit of an accident...

Having found the correct stream by which to descend, we followed it, although the descent was so gradual it felt like we were still on the plateau.

It seemed that it wasn't my day when about half way down I found a concealed hole with my left leg. It suddenly disappeared down to the knee and I pitched forward, falling flat on my face - and getting the front of my trousers wet. Hey ho.

Miraculously, I made it to the track, which gave us easy walking for the final few miles of the day, without injury.

We've pitched for the night alongside the River Thurso, not far from the estate track. We went through the usual process in pitching, which we adopted some time ago. I lay down on the ground to check for flatness and levelness and Mick marked the area with two walking poles. We then pitched the tent. Usually it works well to ensure that we don't stray in the pitching onto less flat ground. Alas, just to round off my day nicely, I climbed into the tent tonight, after everything else was inside, to find that there's a lump on my side. We can't quite be moved to change the position of the tent, so it looks like I'm in for a less-than-comfy night.

Day 80 - Loch Choire to Kinbrace

3 July
Distance: 18.5 miles
No. of people seen out walking since Saturday: 0

As I woke up this morning I turned to look out of the window of the bothy, which was right next to my head. It was a fine sight: the calm loch reflecting the surrounding hills and an absolutely clear blue sky.

Having the room to manoeuvre and not having to pack the tent away we were away earlier than our usual 7.30, following the grassy track along the side of the loch.

Three miles later we passed by Loch Choire Lodge and for the next four hours we followed its unsurfaced access road. At 11 miles long it's far enough that apparently the Royal Mail is excused from making daily deliveries to the house.

The track could have been tedious from the outset, going on for so long, but for the first half we had the clear views to admire. We also had the interludes of a couple in a car, driving from the lodge to a nearby loch to fish, who stopped for a chat (branding us as mad, but that's a common occurence), then a while later we had an air show put on by some Tornados and a Typhoon.

Such things could not sustain us for the entire distance. The sky had clouded over by the second half of the track and it was depressing to think that we still had a couple of hours of the same surface and similar views to go. Harry Potter helped both of us through the final hour.

By the walk in to Kinbrace we were wondering if 'last half mile' syndrome has become 'last half week' syndrome as both of us were struggling. We did of course make it, and pretty early in the day too (just 3pm), which gives us a good rest ready for another pathless yomp tomorrow.

I'm not entirely happy with where we're camped tonight. The lie of the land means that we couldn't reasonably get out of view of some of the houses in Kinbrace even though we're a good distance away. Hopefully no-one minds a tent sitting up across the other side of the river plateau and we will of course be off first thing in the morning to tackle the rather wet looking Knockfin Heights.

Day 79 - Lairg to Loch Choire

2 July
Distance: 17.75 miles
Number of people seen out walking since Saturday: 0

Sodding flies! What is it about our heads and backpacks that makes them swarm around us whenever we go anywhere in the vicinity of a forest?

There was a lot of forest today. About six miles that felt more like six weeks. And for all of those six long miles we were accompanied by sodding flies. Rarely did one land on either of us, they just flew around and around and around our heads.

This was another forest that gave us a navigational difficulty. "Cross the stream...and head uphill due north through a narrow gap in the trees, now on a visible path" says the Cicerone guide. Except that trees grow wider as well as taller and even though this is a very recent guide there's been time for the trees to grow wide so as to block the entrance to the 'narrow gap'. It took us far longer than was reasonable to locate it (funnily enough exactly where it should have been) having tried a couple of dead ends first. Again, I was rather reluctant to bash through the trees in the absence of finding the right way.

It was a joy to finally leave the pine trees behind, even though that was when the going started getting rather harder.

For much of the next five or so miles there were sometimes vehicle tracks, but they were ruts in very wet ground so not good walking. The walk that didn't look too bad on paper transpired to be a hard-going boggy, tussocky yomp.

My legs were giving out and my mind screaming at me to stop before we reached the summit of our day (after a five mile slow and steady climb). Two things kept me going: the thought of how lovely it would be to camp at the head of Loch Choire and a Mars bar. I'm not a huge fan of Mars bars, but it was sugar and it certainly gave me the perk I needed to finish the job of getting up the hill.

On the final push to the loch (positively striding out, all weariness gone once the end was in sight) a noise made me look around. It took me a few moments to locate the source. A large group of deer on the other side of the valley were having a good chat amongst themselves, with barking and higher pitched mewing sorts of noises predominating.

At the loch, which is indeed a stunning setting, we eyed up our likely pitch but thought we'd just have a look at the wooden hut a few paces further on before we pitched. The hut turned out to be an ex-stable that has quite recently been upgraded as a bothy. It's not big but it's very light and airy.

It wasn't a difficult decision to make. The tent was forgotten. We'll spend tonight indoors, kipping on a generous sleeping platform after an evening spent in plastic garden chairs - luxury!

I'd been kicking myself for the last few weeks for not joining the Mountain Bothies(y?) Association before we left and finding out whether there were any bothies on our route. Having stumbled across a few of them and making use of this one I will give my thanks upon my return home by joining.

Our arrival at this hut was perfectly timed. No sooner had we decided to stay than we heard rain upon the roof. Showers are passing through at intervals and the wind is fair howling. However, we completed our walk in fine weather (wall-to-wall sunshine this morning, and about time too) so it can rain as much as it likes for the next few hours!

Day 78 - Oykel Bridge to Lairg

1 July
Distance: 16.25 miles
Number of killer dugs (thwarted by fencing): 2
Number of deer we witnessed trip over a fence: 1 (and I always thought they were such elegant movers!)

When you've requested your breakfast for a certain hour of the morning, been told that the requested time is no problem, and given your order the night before, you rather expect to receive your breakfast at the appointed hour, don't you?

Not at the Oykel Bridge Hotel, I'm afraid. We sat for twenty five minutes beyond the agreed time waiting for our cooked breakfasts, which saw us leaving rather later than we would have liked.

It was fast walking today, though, and shorter than the schedule said for having taken a more sensible route.

For the initial part of the day we took a riverside and track route that kept us off the main road, then from about five or so miles in we were mainly on the A road. It's not a busy A road - it's single track with less traffic than the lanes at home, so aside from the fact that it was tarmac underfoot, it wasn't a bad walk.

We had company too. A whole swarm of flies that accompanied us pretty much the whole way from the excellent general store at Rosehall to Lairg. They must be very well exercised flies now and they certainly didn't respond to repeated requests that they 'procreate and travel'.

We're not entirely looking forward to tomorrow. The walk looks fine on paper, but our bags are going to be mighty heavy. We've not resolved our accommodation problem in Watten so it looks like our only option is to have a fourth consecutive wild camp a few miles before (my, we'll stink by Dunnet!). That means that we next get to a shop on Sunday. Plus we've just picked up our final resupply parcel so we're heavy on dehydrated food and gas too. My left shoulder is going to be crippled.

Day 77 - After Inverlael to Oykel Bridge

30 June
Distance: about 15 miles
Number of people seen out walking: 0

An hour and a half after leaving our night stop we arrived at the River Douchary, which was our originally intended night stop. It would have been a very fine place to camp, but we made the sensible choice to cut yesterday short, particularly given the weather.

We made today easier for ourselves. Rather than taking the scenic and largely pathless route, we took a direct line from the river up to a track on the other side of the valley. It was a track that took us the whole way to Oykel Bridge and whilst it may not have been the most attractive walking surface it made for fast progress and the surroundings were stunning.

Even better, we had fine weather today, with very good visibility. We could see for miles and that always makes for a good day.

A car park on the Corrie Muzie estate had a sign saying "Hillwalkers must use this car park", which made me wonder for what we should use it, given the lack of a car ("Dogs must be carried" came to mind).

Walking along the estate track, where a surprising number of vehicles passed us, we discussed the fact that in the whole of our trip to date no-one had offered us a lift. Obviously, we would have refused, but I had expected that every now and then some kind-wishing soul would make the offer.

In the strange way of these things, not half an hour later, just as we were finishing up lunch, a car passed us, stopped, reversed and offered us a ride.

The occupants of the car were a couple called Helen and Jim. Having declined the lift, we chatted a while. They had popped over from Ireland for the weekend to spend a couple of days in the hills, bothying. They were also so kind as to offer us food, and we came away with another £10 for Macmillan.

The walk down to Oykel, through mainly felled forestry, was entirely uninspiring, but not as uninspiring as the Oykel Bridge hotel, where we are staying tonight. It goes down as the worst value for money night of our trip.

This is a hotel that charges £110 per night for a room. Of course, that is way above our budget, but they agreed to a reduced rate of £80, which although still above budget was more acceptable to us. I expected luxury for the advertised price.

Even at the reduced rate it's poor value for money. Even if they have put us in their shoddiest room in consideration of the reduced rate it's still poor.

Our twin room (despite having booked a double) is very dated and poorly decorated. It doesn't have any electrical equipment bar a kettle - no television, no radio, no hair drier (not that I need one, but I expect one). Then there's the bathroom (ground floor, clear glass window, curtains - that don't close - hanging off their rails). Can you believe that this is a hotel that doesn't have a shower in the bathroom (unless you count the plastic hose job that you slip onto the taps via rubber connectors)? I mean, really, how much does it cost to put mixer taps and a shower curtain in?

Okay, I shall stop ranting now. On the positive side, we have comfortable accommodation and the lack of a shower does mean that we have a bath. It's a big, deep bath. I spent about a week in there.

Sitting in the bar it's obvious that this is very much a fisherman's hotel. There's lots of talk of the intricacies of fishing going on. I'd never realised that river levels are to fly-fishermen what snow levels are to skiers.

Other news of today is that we heard from Doug (LEJOGer No. 4). He reached JOG at 3pm yesterday. All being well Conrad (LEJOGer No. 2 - he took a very similar off-road route to us up here in the north) will have finished today. Last we spoke to him, three days ago, we heard that he'd had the misfortune of the sole falling off one of his boots and had effected some rather ingenious field repairs on it. I look forward to catching up with him once we're all finished.

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.