TGO Challenge: DAYS 13 & 14; Tarfside to Nether Warburton

Leaving Tarfside is always a wrench ~ the volunteer ladies at St Drostan's look aftr us all so wonderfully and the impromptu pub at the Masons was as good as it ever has been, with Croydon, Gerry & JJ leading the singing and some good turns by others (notably Jim)

First stop, The Retreat, for the all important second breakfast, and then a delightful amble down the North Esk with Phil & Shirl following the "Blue Door" walk. I cannot even begin to tell you what a delightful stroll this is, but even though it was raining, quite heavily at time, we remained dry beneath the beautiful trees, on a path cut by French prisoners of war from Napoleonic times.

Edzell coped with the Challenge Caravan with it's usual efficiency and the Tuck Inn did a roaring trade.

It was quite late as we plodded down the Airfield Road to North Water Bridge to camp, yet Phil still managed to gather up the smelly smalls and get it all washed and dried. A bit of a star!

Today it was just the last few miles to the coast and we had picked Nether Warburton as it was in the bay of St Cyrus ~ a National Nature Reserve. So, just the two of us walked down the beach to the sea, shook hands and headed off to the fleshpots of Montrose, where we will party tonight.

This has been Phil's eighth "official" Challenge, and I am delighted to report that (even after his Immodium moments on the first day) he coped magnificently and is indeed in rude health once more.

So ~ Thank you Phil: For organising this year, and for still being around for us all and being such a great friend.

I shall now go down to the bar and abuse him roundly all night for dragging me over miles & miles of mountains & bogs. It's what mates do.

TGO Challenge: Day 12: Water of Unich to Tarfside

Well then (that's an unprepossessing start that is and it's all down hill from here)

This is being written in the Mason's at Tarfside and I'm starting it at 10:15 at night after arriving here at before 2:00pm. All is well with our worlds, as you can imagine. Hic.

I shall have to canter though the last two days, which is probably just as well as a lot of it is best erased (as is most of this "live" blog as it is mostly written late at night)

The party at Stan & Bill's at Calatter Lodge was, even by Challenge standards, quite a night. Challengers who had pitched their tents awoke to find themselves on the parlour sofa in front of the dying embers, with a big day to come.

We walked a "Bloody Massive" walk (and the capitals are very important here) over zillions of Munros and even BIGGER hills and miles and miles of sapping bogs. And at the end of it we dragged some ten poor unfortunates to a bleak little spot in the middle of Absolutely Nowhere to put the tents up next to the Water of Unich at about 750m above anything like a sensible sea level.

Everyone had brought wine. Everyone had brought cheese. Some, wisely, had brought biscuits and sloe gin and cafitierres (not sure how that is spelled).

It was two degrees and a bit drizzly, but that has never stopped a good cheese & wine soiree.

I will draw a veil over the proceedings. What happens on the Chally stays on the Chally. I do remember almost falling into the river and having a near death drowning incident.

On the way to the location, Phil commented on the haunting nature of the stravaig. He kept hearing awful moaning and wailing from somewhere far behind him as he strode manfully at the fore, leaving his fellow travellers in his wake. And it almost was his wake, such was the degree of difficulty of this particular walk. It were a "Right Bastard" of a stroll.

So the relief at finishing it was so great that ten exhausted Challengers leapt into their cups of wine and barrels of cheese and all had a happy time. We retired with the temperature plummeting to well below freezing, but blissfully happy. (But still blaming Bastard Phil for an awful day's walk)

By comparison, today was a doddle, strolling down the Water of Unich, splashing across and heading uphill to gain the summit of some hill or other to crash down to almost bloody sea level with knee grinding drops.

So, bloody hell! Here we are in the Masons with JJ singing, the dogs barking and Challengers all sunburned and smiley.

Life is bloody good!

TGO Challenge: DAY 10; Braemar

We 'did' the Fife Arms yesterday afternoon and the Hungry Highlander. Then Braemar Mountain Sports (what an excellent shop) for new black Superfeet insoles for the plimsolls. Then (finally) the the B&B for a much needed shower and shave, because, then, as we hadn't done enough exercise so far on this walk, limbered up for the dancing at the Saturday evening bash at the Moorfield Hotel with the star attraction of "Bingo Wings" ~ the "best rock band in Braemar ~ the only rock band in Braemar"

They were quite splendid and pints of Stag were dealt with and dancing done. Too much dancing in fact, as this morning, for the first time on the walk, my legs are now aching.

We are now to be found sat, sitting, in the nice little tea shop called "Taste" drinking ginger beer and red berry tea (surprisingly good) with the Sunday papers, relaxing.

Our washing is humming away in a tumble drier. A nice Jura in the rucksack for the party at Stan & Bills, a good white and a reasonable red and some strong cheddar on board for Monday's Cheese & Wine Soiree at the Water of Unich.

We are both in good order and in fine form. All is well in our worlds.

TGO Challenge: Day 9; Middle of Nowhere to Braemar

Yes! made it to the Fife Arms. In good order too! Then the Hungry Highlander for chis and fips and then our B&B for a well needed wash.

And now it's off to the Moorfield Hotel for the Chally Saturday Bash. More tomorrow.

Toodle pip!

TGO Challenge: Day 8; Kingussie to Middle of Nowhere

Today's subjects of conversation ranged from Rablelais to Rectums. That's not far in the dictionary or, in fact, in subject matters ~ both topics are close to Lord Elpus's heart.

And so we find ourselves pitched up in the middle of sod-all with JJ, after the big bend in the Feshie and a bit along the Geldie Burn, with huge cloud masses above and half a moon.

The Eidart gorge was massively powerful ~ it's awe inspiring stuff. We met the bothy keeper in the Feshie bothy; an interesting study for the psychologists in the congregation, or perhaps the forensic scientists if they ever discover the bodies.

The weather forecast was for increasing humidity and thunderstorms in the afternoon. Being a bit of a wuss, I opted to avoid the Moine Mhor and head up the Feshie instead. It was massively humid and we toiled along with the additional burden of fine cheeses and wines. Happily we bumped into JJ at the Eidart bridge and so we rolled along a few clicks before flipping up the Wendy houses-at 6:30.

Looking northwards, towards Loch nan Stuirteag (where our first cheese and wine soiree was due to be held), I believe we made the right choice: It's as black as hell up there, but so far, no thunderstorms.

And so tomorrow is another day, with an easyish trip down to Braemar (Did I tell you that we are three and a half Suffolks high here?)

Tonight has seen off a reasonable Beaujolais Villages, and Aussie Sauvignon Blanc (surprisingly good) and JJ's "Rusty Nail" along with two smoked cheeses and a Rebluchon, with wholemeal biscuits.

It's life, Jim, but not as we know it...

TGO Challenge, Day 7: Laggan to Kingussie

An easy day! Praise be!

The Monadhliath Hotel at Laggan is a little gem (did I tell you that yesterday? ~ you may have guessed that yesterday's post was written quite late on in the evening...) and we left almost refreshed.

The Wade road between Phones and Ruthven must rank as one of the most beautiful strolls and we took our time over it; the grassy track is an absolute delight winding above the floor of the Spey valley; the A9 hidden seemingly miles away. We rested for lunch at the Wade Bridge with just the hiss of the wind in a tree and the soft 'plash' of little fish in the stream.... Until two F16's screamed above our heads.

Kingussie is packed with Challengers; most will have been doing the same as Phil and me ~ washing socks, pants, shirts and muddy walking trousers.

This is the first time on the walk that I have watched the telly (knackered after the first week's walk and all my washing) and its fascinating to see on the news that nothing much has changed. It's good to see Kirsty on the box though ~ she was good enough not to pester this celebrity on the sleeper on the way up to Scotland. That girl has got class.

I shall have to tell her not to chase me in my dreams though as she is beginning to be a nuisance.

TGO Challenge: Day 6 - Luib Chonnal to Laggan

Okay ~ 17 miles ~ an easyish day, if you are used to this sort of thing- but we aren't, See?

We have bumped into all sorts of Challengers today, but only when we got to the hotel as everybody was already here. There are people "not doing the Challenge" as well as those doing the Chally. There are those from the good ol' US of A and those from Essex (Praise the Lord for repentant sinners)

We walked miles and miles of wonderful scenery today ~ full of grandeur and clouds and sunshine. But you don't want to know about that, do you?

No. What went wrong? Far more interesting! My plimsolls insoles are developing a life of their own. They are fed up with being a bit-part in this tale. They want the lime-light. They are planning their escape from the back of my plimsolls and almost made it today- but for the shrieks of the lapwings I would never have noticed.

There are incidents on this walk that we can only allude to at a later date, for the sake of the innocent. Suffice it to say that not many people have been there and have returned, Sir- Oh no Sir. Not down those stairs at this time of night. And not in those shoes. Don't go through that door in the dark, Sir if you want breakfast with the rest of the party.

We went looking for tent "stakes" this evening with no joy for Ken Knight, but no doubt we will hear more of this tomorrow.

Tomorrow is another day, and besides, the wench is dead, (work that out if you can!) so now it's outside into the great darkness of the Upper Spey valley with nought but Guinness and Good Manners to protect us from HUMP3's glasses fairies in order to post this latest missive from the current front line of the trenches.

TGO Challenge, DAY 5: South Laggan to Luib Chonnal

Well then! What a splendid spot we find ourselves in: Upstairs in a cracking little bothy with the stove radiating masses of heat, fed and watered and finishing off the sloe gin.

Today's route had us heaving our heavy packs up the side of the Great Glen (we had loaded them up with the contents of our massive food parcels) with the aid of a map created by the owners of the Great Glen Hostel: What wonderful people they are!

We were suckered into the little ravine right at the top of the climb, exactly as I had been years ago with Mick Coady. Our merry band comprised Phil and me (of course) and JJ, Andy, and Alistair. The three of them had far harder days planned and so had to press on leaving us with sole occupancy of this magnificent establishment.

We had our usual dreadfully late start this morning; not leaving until well after ten, so a whole set of mad dogs and Englishmen were caught out in the midday sun sweltering our way over the peat hags and down into Glen Turret. We really must get out earlier! And we must do so tomorrow morning if we are to get to Laggan (on the Spey) in reasonable order tomorrow.

Today was glorious weather, yet we did not clamber up Creag Meggaidh as planned as the forecast for the next day was pretty crap and this would have meant a high level ridge walk in 'orrid weather. didn't fancy that after the hard start we had given ourselves this year.

The only thing that's missing from this little heaven is a crate of ice cold Peronis...

Have to finish now as I have to break out the sleeping kit, as the fabled early start could finally be on the cards for tomorrow morning...

TGO Challenge, Day 4: Tomdoun to South Laggan

What started out as an easy wander down Glen Garry turned into happiness and joy, all wrapped up in a little pink tutu, calling me 'Daddy'.

It's not that Lord Elpus is sharing my room and we have beds to spare and a shaverlight that actually works (did I ever tell you about our theory of British hotels? Perhaps later)

No. After seemingly miles and miles (and miles) of endless bogs and rain showers, we eventually staggered off the hill below Ben Tee (that's a big hairy Corbett with no charm at all that just looks like a slag heap at close quarters) into the arms of the Eagle Barge at Laggan Locks.

How on earth have we missed this little oasis on past Challenges? It is run by a couple who love the place and the people who pass through's lives are enriched. We are currently sat sitting in the bar having wolfed down supper with pints of Red McGregor with Welsh Ron (from Pean Bothy) and Andy Walker and Hump3, discussing the Ascent of Rum Doodle.

We are billeted at the South Laggan Hostel, improved immeasurably after being freed from the chains of the SYHA. It is certainly better than our stay last night.

So ~ to our hotel theory: After years of staying in medium priced accommodation on the Challenge, the Acid Test (and the capitals are important here) of any hotel is as follows:

Walk into your room. Ignore the sumptuous bedding. Ignore the tasty selection of comestibles. No. Walk straight into the bathroom and turn on the Linolight (that's the shaverlight above the basin). If it works there is happiness and joy. All your hopes and dreams of a good hotel will be catered for. Dancing girls will attend to your every need and your children will all be beautiful and love you.

However, if the Linolight fails to ignite, then your stay will be one of abject misery. Your children will see you for what you really are. The only girls will be the ones in the room next door, making mad passionate love noisily until three in the morning, as you lie there, alone. The taps will not work. There will be no milk in your jug and you will not be able to open the window which is sealed shut with years of poor decoration.

I am pleased to say, unlike last night, tonight the Linolight worked perfectly.

All is well in my world. Happiness.

TGO Challenge: Day 2; Oban Bothy to Pean Bothy

That's not far, is it I hear you think. It was bloody miles, I tell you. at least it was the way we went about it.

Last night it absolutely chucked it down but the morning was set fair and we ambled off up the glen and girded our loins to head up Sgurr nan Choireachan. In fact everything was going swimmingly. The path up is an absolute beauty, probably built hundreds of years ago by teams of estate workers. The O.S. Have it petering out at about 650m but we managed to follow it for about another 100m to the top of the ridge.

Then the clouds came down with some rain, but not a problem really. But with 100m to go to the top, all hell let loose with really fierce winds from the south with stinging chunks of hail that hurt like hell through the trousers and overtrousers. It's quite exposed up there and the walk to Sgurr Thuilm would have been nightmarish, especially coming off it down to Strathan.

We both knew we were going back down the way we had come and so set off a bit fed up. Somewhere in the going down bit we missed the path and ended up teetering over a big black greasy cliff.

Not good. Not good indeed!

We clambered back up a hundred metres or so and had another go ~ with exactly the same result with an even nastier drop. Not learning from our mistakes we did it a third time, getting increasingly despondent about the whole venture and our dreadful navigation...

So we went back up again, breaking out the GPS and eventually picked up the path. (Thank the Lord! I hear you think....) So we ended up back where we had started the climb seven and a half hours later... Deary, deary me.

We then clattered along Glen Pean (it's beauties now slightly dulled to our senses) and made the bothy at Pean at 7:50pm ~ just five miles further east than our start point this morning with about 1060m of ascent (some of it totally needles) under our belts.

We are totally knackered and now tomorrow is another two miles longer. Ho hum: It's a Challenge!

TGO Challenge, Day 3: Pean Bothy to Tomdoun

I'm typing this the morning after we got here. Yesterday was another big day ~ another eleven hour walk, a walk of about twenty miles.

We left Ron the Welshman in the bothy at Pean and headed off into the forest on the newly created track (thank goodness for that as the old line had been a swamp). We made good progress and passed where we should have camped at about 9:30.

Then its a bit of a clamber up the boggy hillside (partially spoilt by vehicle tracks turning the soil into quagmires) with wonderful views back to yesterday's ridge ~ we certainly made the right decision to turn back, as looking at the drop off from the top of Sgurr Thuilm there are some pretty nasty crags and in that wind and icy hail coupled with the rucksacks, it would have been a bit hairy.

We knew we had to get a wiggle on and so set ourselves a tight programme of walking 5km, ten minute rest and then a 10km stretch, etc etc. It's not our normal style of walking ~ all far too disciplined for these gentlemen of the road ~ but needs must etc, as we had to get to our booked hotel in time to get cleaned up and down to dinner. We made it bang on schedule. Not like us at all! we certainly know we have had two eleven hour days though.

The hotel is packed to the rafters with Challengers and two prospective Challengers as well! Louise and David (Google "Louise's Big Adventure" for her blog) were in the area nipping up scary Munros and so joined us in the dining room.

So its Monday morning and still no phone signal. Hopefully when we get to the Great Glen tonight there will be one to post the days to the blog.

My legs feel hammered, but surprisingly, the new plimsolls are fine and dandy (so far). Phil looks to be in good shape too so I suppose all is well in our worlds.

TGO Challenge: Day 1: Lochailort to Oban Bothy

It's difficult, trying to capture the first day of the Challenge: You have met a whole herd of people on the journey up and in the pub the night before the 'off' and everything has been abstract. Today though, these people have become your fellow travellers and you start to look out for them.

Phil and I had a leisurely start and were quite surprised at the rate and manner of our progress ~ we were very quickly at the first 'top' looking down the length of Loch Beoraid and scampering down towards Meoble on Loch Morar. We were going well ~ especially Phil ~ as he needed a double dose of Immodium. He had acquired the gait of Hercule Poirot so even I had noticed something was amiss.

The next section was up into Sleite Coire where lunch was taken in some style in a natural sofa, out of the wind, bathed in sunshine. The rock architecture hereabouts is fantastic, with huge slabs of glacier polished rocks overhung with hundreds of steps of more rock pushing through the mountainsides.

It was a relaxed stroll through this wonderland, carefully threading our way between the boulders and bog. We made Oban bothy before five, having been caught up by Andy Walker. Tents up and into the bothy to cook supper and make inroads into the flasks. We were joined by three Welsh lads, John & Norma and JJ.

Some have struggled today getting here near eight o'clock, but they are all resting and making ready for tomorrow's stunning walk.

Oban is a beautiful place and the bothy has had a lot of work done to it ~ the MBA should be proud of this place.

TGO Challenge Day 0: The Inn at Lochailort

That wasn't a bad trip up, all said and done. The meet of Challengers at Queen Street Station in Glasgow went well, with Uncle Roger (the Great Co-ordinator) to see us safely off from Glasgow.

The train trundled through bigger and bigger country and eventually deposited us at our destination. Now freshly bathed (I am sure you would like to know that we are looking after ourselves) we are off down to the bar for some refreshment.

Outside all looked very large from our little train and there is a long way to go in the big outside in the next two weeks.

No phone signal here at the hotel so this will be posted at the first opportunity.

TGO Challenge DAY 0:

Queen Street Station

Start as you mean to go on...

"It's a great way to start the weekend" he says as we lower ourselves into the best seats in the bar on the Caledonian Sleeper and order two Traquair House Ales from the Borders.

"It's Wednesday, Phil".

A good start to the fortnight then.

Coming! Ready or not!

Dishwashers have a habit of dong this. On the one day when they really ought to behave because you are really really busy, their little red light blinks at you. Well. Not at me exactly; more at Lynnie. And she told me to deal with it.

And so, to deal with it I do.

After half an hour of hunting for the owner's manual and not finding it, I set to, bruising my knuckles and fraying my temper. After unloading the dirty dishes and kneeling on the cold hard quarry tiled floor on my best walking knees, eventually I bale out the machine using cups and egg cups and prise off the required plastic part that requires prising. I spin the whirly thing that needs to be able to whirl and re assemble the complete job.

I stand there proudly; all my engineering education has finally paid off. I stand before the machine in my wet and now sore sore knees and turn the device on once more.

The little red light continues to blink at me. It can wait until I get back from Scotland then. Lynnie rings and lets me know that the manual is in the letter rack. Why didn't I think of that?

I have sorted out and posted my food parcels. I have repacked the rucksack. I have unpacked the rucksack. I have been to town to see Laura for the Challenge haircut. I have eaten half the Immodium from my rucksack. This is not good news. I need more Immodium. I have booked the taxi.

I have prised apart my glasses and glasses arm and re-glued them back together more or less in a straight line this time. My fingers are now covered in Superglue.

I have packed the rucksack again; this time including my maps, route sheet and money. I shall now go and get dressed in my Challenge clothing, ready for the off.

There is a ghastly sinking feeling that I have missed something. I am sure Phil will let me know when we are on the sleeper tonight, heading for Scotland. Phil says I will be easily recognisable on the TGO Challenge: I will be the chap covered in rice and porridge from the dishwasher, stuck to me by the Superglue, peering over the top of the wonky glasses.

London Calling

A clash of cultures at the weekend; two country types in the big smoke. A very tasty Birthday lunch in the West End with the Menu Decouverte and then a nip around the shops for the birthday present, mostly from Agnes B. And the shoe shop. Oh and the outdoor shop too...

She wasn't getting it all her own way though - oh no! Well, okay mostly she did. But I did come away with a replacement water carrier (the old one needed a bite of a rabid dog to close the gaping jaws) and some new fluffy walking socks to go with the new plimsolls.

Oh, and did I mention the new rucksack? It sort of leapt out at me when I wasn't looking and it did come in a rather fetching colour-way. And it is a bit smaller than the old one as I don't need all the room these days. It's a miniscule 44 litre job and very smart it looks too...

I am sure you would have done just the same. I got carried away, you see. Those nice men in the white coats kept coming and I Just had to get away from them so I thought I would hide in the rucksack section of the shop. So it was all their fault, see?

The thing is, it doesn't have any of those whippy straps that flail about in the wind and cut your face. And it is a whole lot easier on the eye as well. Well, in fact, on Lord Elpus's eye, as he's the one who will be looking at it as it will be behind me, won't it? Perhaps I will ask him for a contribution towards the cost of the thing. Think of it as an environment tax, Phil.

So: That's it. No more gear. Finito until the next year. I Promise. Scouts Honour!

The 'trial pack' has been successful. The all up weight with the fleece and coats stowed away, three days of food and 300ml of Sloe Gin is 12kg. That's just 100ml of sloe gin per day. Now that's what I call going 'lightweight'.

Getting away from it all...

 

More gear. Oh dear...

I have been reading too many blogs.

I have decided that I have far too little gear to cope. Quite how I arrived at this appalling decision Lord Only Knows. I have currently on order:

• Two pairs of Innov-8 Debris Gaiters.
• Two tubes of foot cream

It's the new plimsolls, you see. I don't want to be picking all the heather and small stones out of my shoes and socks every half hour. It's the way I walk; I sort of drag the stuff into my shoes and stuff it down the side of my ankles until the pain is unbearable. The Innov-8 debris gaiters should sort this out. But why two pairs? I have gurly ankles and I am pretty sure the large size will 'bag' around my ankles. If they do, then perhaps the medium size will fit better. Hence the two pairs. It's cheaper than driving to the shop to try them on...

The foot cream: It's the waterproof plimsolls you see. I bought waterproof ones to keep the water at bay for as long as possible but I know I will get footfulls of water so the Goretex will keep it nicely inside the shoe. So I need some nice foot creams to stop the rot, and make the feet feel smiley at the end of the day.

I think I might regret these plimsolls...

I wonder if there is anything else I need to buy in a last burst of panic buying?

An English Spring Evening

The runner beans are safely watered in, nestling beneath their Heath Robinson rigged canes. The cane frame is a bit better than previous years efforts, but not by much. It's the string, you see. Or that the ground is a bit lumpy. Perhaps the canes? They are a bit old and split and of varying lengths. But eleven little runner bean plants have been nurtured from seed and now reside in the newly dug vegetable patch.

Okay - my bit was just building the rickety wonky cane frame. The digging was dug heroically by Lynnie. But afterwards I needed a cup of tea and a quiet time in Mission Control.

Spring has definitely sprung. The view from Mission Control is all fresh and velvety once more. 

What, these? I've had them ages...

There have been a few problems in the foot department. My seemingly very comfy Salomon Slippers were, last weekend, not to put too fine a point on it, incredibly uncomfortable! At the coinciding point of the fold of the bellows tongue and one of the metal eyelet hooks I suffered from a fierce bit of pressure that just got worse and worse, no matter how I tied the boot or adjusted the tongue / sock combination. This made my right ankle very sore after only two moderate days of walking.

Not good. In fact no good at all with fourteen days of the TGO Challenge coming up.

I resorted to slipping on my comfy old pair of Scarpa Nepals, rescued from their hiding place in the downstairs loo (why on earth do I keep my boots in the loo? I don't know) to nip around the village delivering election leaflets. Just to get them back to the idea of a walk - it's been a while for the dears. But, No!

Disaster!

They seem to be a good full size too small! They squeeze and bunch up my tootsies! Have my plates suddenly taken on a new growth spurt? Now then; there could be one really good side effect to this sudden spurt of growth hormones, as everything is supposed to be in proportion to the size of your feet. I think that I was right at the back of the queue on that score when they were handed out... But no. A good look in the bathroom mirror suggests there has been no corresponding surge in growth on that front...

What to do?

 

So, it's lunch at Don Pasqualez in Cambridge, to strengthen and fortify my shopping genes and then I am straight off out to the outdoor emporia.

I find myself embarrassed: I have come home with some gurly plimsolls.

Lord Elpus is coming round with Miss Whiplash for a spot of lunch tomorrow. Hopefully by the end of the afternoon the ribbing may have subsided.