Day 3

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Having slept with some more clothes on I had a good night's sleep. When I woke and peered out of the tent I could see nothing at all. A thick hill fog had descended and visibility was limited to about 50 feet. I rummaged in my rucksack and pulled out my compass. For the first time on this trip it was going to be an essential tool. I got the stove lit and made some tea. Drinking it, I put the porridge on. I don't eat the stuff at home but in the hills it makes a very welcome start to the day. While it was cooking I turned on the K1 and listened around. I had a quick QSO with G0MKJ/P and then a longer chat with Einar SM5CBC/4. He was at his holiday house and observed that he was even higher that I was! By the time I was ready to venture outside it was raining. This is always the worst case scenario because it inevitably means that the tent will be soaking wet and that tends to make other things wet in the rucksack too. I packed all the essential items into plastic bags, taking extra care with my sleeping bag. Providing that is kept dry you can always have some comfort. Outside I took the tent down, packed the rucksack and got ready to leave.  I felt very lonely in this wild place.

I took a bearing and set off into the mist. In my experience, the first few minutes in an area like this are critical. It is essential to pick up the right path as soon as possible. I picked up a path that was on the correct bearing and started walking. I was going to traverse along the north side of Sgurr Eilde Mor and then swing gradually south descending to Loch Eilde Beag. At fist the path was clear and to my surprise out of the mist emerged a Scot - complete with deerstalker hat. He told me that he was slightly lost and was back tracking. I couldn't imagine where he had started from to be there so early in the day. He only had a light pack so he hadn't camped. We said our goodbyes and he disappearing off into the mist. My path soon strayed onto steep ground with the hillside rising steeply on my right. There were occasional glimpses of the valley on my left but mostly there was little to be seen. The path was very frustrating. It was often indistinct and occasionally disappeared altogether. At these points I ended up going up and down the steep heather looking for signs of the path. I always found it again (eventually) but it took a long time and was pretty tiring. There seemed to be numerous parallel sheep tracks across the hillside. The path began to ascend and again as the mist rose for an instant I saw that I was approaching the col between Sgurr Elide Mor and Meall Doire na h-Achilas. Once I reach the col I had other problems. Here the ground was, in places, unbroken rock and the path became even more difficult to spot. I carried on walking and trying to see where the path curved south in preparation for dropping off the hillside. I came to a point where the ground started to drop steeply in front of me but somehow it felt wrong - and there was no path. Below me I glimpsed four deer bounding over the heather and not much else. the mist closed in again and the drizzle continued. I was lost. Now lost is a rather relative experience. I knew that I was still in Scotland and I knew roughly   where I was to within a kilometre I just didn't know exactly where I was. I stood for a while and weighed up the options. Deep heather is very slow going without a path and so I decided that I would estimate where I was and take a bearing in the hope that I would cross the path. This was a slightly risky tactic in that the path might not be obvious where I crossed it but I felt that of the options available it was the best one. I took my bearing and set off. I picked nearby objects to aim at in the mist and tried hard to steer a straight course. The terrain however didn't lend itself to walking in a straight line so I ended up in a complicated series of manoeuvres in an effort to traverse the land and keep on course. all this took time and I was getting wetter and wetter. after a while I felt that I must have missed the path, it seemed that I must have gone too far - and yet I knew that my progress had been very slow. I decided to walk on the bearing for just five more minutes. And after four minutes I came across what seemed to be the path! I wasn't absolutely certain of course but it was on the right bearing and it would certainly be easier that heading across country. The path however remained obscure. It would go on clearly for 200 metres and then disappear completely necessitating much backtracking and puzzlement. It meandered across the moors without any sense of urgency. In my mind I imagined an old shepherd, well stocked up with the local whisky winding a drunken course across the moors. There seemed no other logical explanation. It was all hard going and somehow, with little visibility the very mist itself seemed to sap my energy. My mind started to wander. "What if I fell over and broke my leg?"; "Would it be best to try to set up the tent or should I try to call for help on the radio?"; "Would I bleed to death before anyone could reach me?". With these maudling thoughts ringing in my mind I realised that I was getting exhausted and was probably a little dehydrated too. Stopping was not an option however. I needed to get off the hill to somewhere a little less exposed. I was soaked through, tired and a little cold. As the path meandered it descended and soon I was occasionally below the mist and could see the dark shape of the lochs below me. The path - such as it was - steepend and yet again it disappeared. However, now I could locate myself accurately with ease so I decided to head directly for the track that ran alongside the lochs. Stumbling along and falling over occasionally, I went directly down the steep hillside. Avoiding the streams I was soon close to the road. One last steep bank and I was safe. There were now just six miles of easy walking between me and the town of Kinlochmore.

Head down I set off along the loch side. I had to work hard to motivate myself to keep going. I was wet, tired and uncomfortable. My rucksack seemed to weigh twice as much as before. I pounded along the track, eyes on the ground. Tiredness made me stumble occasionally. After what seemed an age, I reached the track to the boathouse that I had lunch in the day before. I went down and was please to get out of the rain and have a sit down for a while. I ate some raisins and dried bananas and was soon feeling better. I donned my pack again and started for Kinlochmore. I needed to spot a path off to the left that would descend into the town. I had decided that I would stay in a b&b that night. The map showed that there was a hotel on the lower section of the track but as I didn't know if it would be opened (or even still there), I took the path towards the town. It started well enough but soon descended through woods. The trees closed in around me and the path deteriorated to loose stones and slippery roots. The last thing that I needed. I glimpsed the town through the trees but for ages it didn't seem to come any closer. After what seemed an eternity I emerged by a church and walked onto a road in a housing estate. what a contrast!

The rain continued to pour down. I saw someone coming towards me and asked if there was any bed and breakfast accommodation. It was my misfortune to ask a Scot with a speech impediment. However, I did eventually understand that there was an information board a short distance away with accommodation listed. And so there was. It was for walkers on the West Highland way and I soon came to realise that Kinlochmore owes much of its existence these days to the Way. The signboard was across the road from The Tail Race Inn. That advertised b&b so I went to ask if they had any rooms. I took my soggy boots off in the porch and emptied the water out of them. I dribbled my way into the bar only to find that they were full. I got some funny looks from the warm, dry people drinking at the bar. The landlady gave me some telephone numbers of other places but as I had no change they were of little use. I pulled on my squelching boots again and set off once more into the rain. The signboard had a map and I saw that there as a b&b at the other end of town that advertised evening meals and a drying room. I thought that I would try it. I wandered about and, more by luck that judgement, I came across it. A large house up the hillside a little. The old procedure stared again, boots off, empty out and in I went. By this stage I was running on empty. The landlady came and said that she had just one room. Someone had already asked about it but hadn't turned up. It was a family room and would cost more than a single. "Did I want it?". Of course I did. I would have paid almost anything not to have had to pull on my boots and put on my pack again that day. I struggled up to the room and the landlady gave me some paper for my boots. Once into the room I started to take stock. I had no dry clothes and those clothes that I had were, to say the least, disgustingly sweaty. Now this is where my hi-tech (and expensive) clothes really come into their own. I simply undressed, rinsed everything out left it all to drip for a while while watching the TV and hung it over the radiator (nice and hot) while I soaked in the bath. By 7:30 p.m., the whole lot was dry - well not the boots of course but you cant have everything. I donned my clothes feeling much more comfortable and made my way downstairs. It was then that I found that the b&b had rather "oversold" itself. The drying room was not in operation and there was no evening meal. I did manage to find somewhere to spread the tent out however and simply set off back to the Tail Race Inn for some dinner.

The inn was busy and it soon became apparent that virtually every customer was walking the West Highland Way. In fact everyone in the town seemed to be associated with it. I found that there was hardly any accommodation left -  I had indeed been lucky! Two beers, a steak and a dessert disappeared without trace. Even my boots began to feel better. It was curious to listen to the walkers discussing their day. Most seemed to have met on other parts of the walk and were swapping notes. I didn't join in but sat feeling slightly superior (without any justification whatever) comparing my adventures to their easy walk... Day 4.

 

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