I can't recall what I had for dinner last night, but it did involve using the stove. It will have been a dehydrated meal and possibly a pudding to boot. I do remember my breakfast though - Belvita Breakfast Soft Bakes, either red fruits or choc chips. I didn't tire of these the whole crossing. Oh, and a couple of apple turnovers from Fort Augustus. And two cups of coffee. And a hot fizzy orange. It's funny how you remember all the good bits and the mundane stuff gets jettisoned. And then lying on top of my sleeping bag in the tent with both doors open (one either side) in the warmth of the morning sunshine, slipping in and out of snoozing with a soft breeze just strong enough to keep the midges at bay.
Bliss.
However, time is pressing. Well, actually it isn't, but too much of a good thing must surely be sinful.
RIVER SPEY TO GLEN BANCHOR - CLICK TO ENLARGE |
I did leave, eventually and strolled down the metaled road to Garva Bridge. If anyone had camped there, they had long gone. By now the sun had a bit of strength to it. There was hardly a cloud in the sky. I stopped for a boot break and second breakfast 5km from my camp spot, realising that it was likely to be the last bit of shade for a while. I took on water, leaving just over a litre to get me to the Coffee Bothy at Laggan, some 11km further on.
The next break was the little hill immediately before Sherrabeg, that has Scots Pine for shelter at the top. This might be described as elevenses, or early lunch. It did involve a snooze under a pine tree. By now it was officially very warm indeed. There was now just 6km to go to a table, a proper chair and cold drinks at the Coffee Bothy, which was now building in my imagination to this scene:
Out of interest, look at the (very badly poured) heads on the other beers on the table as he drinks his lager, and then as he slams his empty glass back on the table. Whoops. Apparently this scene was shot half a dozen times just after breakfast one morning. Some people get all the breaks. But I digress.
My water ran out at my last rest stop just a couple of miles further on. There was nothing for it but to be a brave soldier and carry on through the Saharan Wastes to Alexandria Laggan. There was no quicksand to contend with but there was an awful lot of cow-shit to avoid on the road. And around the corner I came upon the culprits. They had broken out of their field and were mooching about the place. I could see the forced wire fence but try as I might I could not get them to hop back into the field. So I resorted to a cattle drive.
My charges were finally rounded up by the farmer at Blargie leaving me to stroll on like a mad dog out in the midday sun.
FORGET THE DO-UP OPPORTUNITY, JUST LOOK AT THAT SKY! |
I'M ACTUALLY TIRED OF THESE SIGNS THESE DAYS - THEY'VE BEEN DONE TO DEATH |
I fell into the Coffee Bothy and sank into a chair.
Would you like a seat outside?
Thank you but no. I've had enough of outside.
I worked my way through three bottle of Fentimans Ginger Beer, a couple of large flat white coffees and two enormous pieces of home-made cake. I was determined I would spend the rest of my Challenge sat right here. This was wonderful. It was cool. There were lovely pictures on the wall. There were people, bikers, and families on holiday dressed in smart clothes, who smelled clean and perfumed. There was the wonderful porcelain with hand basins and scented soaps.
Outside was hell.
Two wonderful hours later I strolled away from a little piece of paradise to continue my walk. I had arrived a bit shattered and dehydrated. I left with a spring in my step and looking forward to The Remains of the Day. Earlier, I had planned to camp at Dalnashallag, which was only five miles or so from Laggan as it gave me a shortish day to my planned hotel in Kingussie, for the reasons explained before in this blog. But now I was feeling bloody wonderful. Once off the main road (it hardly warrants that description as there's precious little traffic) the walking becomes glorious.
You climb gently, leaving the environs of Cluny Castle in opening woodland with good earth beneath your boots and birdsong. The air is clean, with a light breeze and the sunshine now has less sting to it. This is pure joy. Then open country beckons.
THE ROUTE AHEAD |
LOOKING BACK: CLICK TO ENLARGE |
CLICK TO ENLARGE: |
THE TRACK TO GLEN BANCHOR: CLICK TO ENLARGE |
DALNASHALLAG |
LOOKING EAST DOWN GLEN BANCHOR FROM DALNASHALLAG |
INTERIOR |
INTERIOR |
After a brief rest at Dalnashallag I decide it's too early to stop; it's only five and the weather is perfect and I'm feeling great. I pick my way across the Calder and stroll along the bank for a couple of miles until I find a nice spot on a slight bluff above the river. Hopefully it'll catch any breeze to keep the bastard midges at bay.
CAMP, AROUND 6:00PM |
After bringing up two offspring and a feisty Springer Spaniel I have had my fill for a lifetime of being made to sit outside at venues where such are not allowed inside. I'm much enjoying this trip. I get the impression you are carrying enormous amounts of food, but that can't really be avoided.
ReplyDeleteIt's true that my food bag is usually a hefty weight, Conrad, but biting into pastry and then either savoury or sweetness is a delight, instead of constant chocolate bars or (and I hate the term) energy bars.
DeleteI also get the wobbles quite quickly when I'm hungry - always have and don't know why. Food sorts it, but it's best not to get to that state, so I eat at every available opportunity when on a long walk.
Glen Banchor looks like a gem. The joy of coming on real food after backpacking fare never diminishes!
ReplyDeleteEgg-zackerly, Sir.
Delete"Would you like a seat outside?
ReplyDeleteThank you but no. I've had enough of outside."
Haha! Sounds like me after hiking in Florida.
You always seem to find such wonderful spots to do some walking. I think your blog has contributed quite a few places I need to walk to my list.
Doesn't Florida have over a million alligators?
DeleteI don't think I would want to hike anywhere where animals could eat me.
Oh. Hang on... Midges.
It's not so bad, generally speaking the alligators don't want anything to do with people. Until they do, I guess.
Delete