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Showing posts with label CAUTIONARY TALES. Show all posts
Showing posts with label CAUTIONARY TALES. Show all posts

11 June 2014

TGO Challenge 2014: Part 2: When a day goes agley...

Radio Four ‘Thought for the Day’ aficionados will doubtless be aware of Rabbi Lionel Blue and his wry & gentle sense of humour. However, I expect not many will know that Lionel (with his mother) was one of our first TGO Challengers, completing his crossing back in the late eighties. It was of this Challenge, when his Mum was helicoptered out of Knoydart, that he wrote these immortal lines:
The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

I can tell you with heartfelt certainty that I know exactly how Lionel felt on that difficult day. Our difficult day went like this:
***
The route was simple. Here’s a snippet from our route-sheet for the day [Click to enlarge it]

TGOC14 Route Sloman   Walker   Lambert Sheet V41[6] Snippet

And here’s the map for that particular day: [Again, if you wish, you can click on it to make it bigger.]

TGOC2014 DAY 2 PLANNED

The plan was to walk from the green marker pin, at the bottom left of the map, to the red marker flag at the top right of the map. However, as we had stopped slightly short on the previous day we would now be starting from the red marker flag at the very bottom of the map. This should be no big deal as it was but a mile of extra walking along the valley at the beginning of the day.

So what’s the other red maker flag, then, the one marked ‘Waypoint 80’ in the middle of the map? Well that’s where we finished our day, at 9:15 in the evening, totally knackered. Here’s the map again, at a scale of 1:50k that you can refer to for a better overview, with just the area that was covered that day
::
TGOC2014 DAY 2 ACTUAL
[CLICK TO ENLARGE – IT WILL OPEN IN A NEW WINDOW]

We set off jauntily enough and after a short while crossed back over the Carnach after just avoiding stepping in the suppurating remains of a sheep carcase. The view forwards looked like this:

ANDY'S PICTURE: LOOKING NORTH UP THE CARNACH
ANDY'S PICTURE: LOOKING NORTH UP THE CARNACH – CLICK TO ENLARGE

Andy and I had a little rest here, as Phil had a sudden Imodium Moment. Looking back, you can see Phil catching us up again, looking mightily relieved.

LOOKING BACK TO PHIL, CATCHING UP.
LOOKING BACK TO PHIL, CATCHING UP – CLICK TO ENLARGE

Even though we were looking out for it, we missed the path shown on the map that climbed the hillside at about this point, as we sauntered up this delightful glen.

DELIGHTFUL [THE GLEN, THAT IS]
DELIGHTFUL [THE GLEN, THAT IS] – CLICK TO ENLARGE

Here’s another of us having a lovely time:

ANDY'S SLIGHTLY BLURRED PICTURE
ANDY'S SLIGHTLY BLURRED PICTURE

We started our first gorge clamber about here, where our path led us down to the wonderful tumbling River Carnach.

ANDY'S PIC OF RIVER CARNACH AT START OF 1st GORGE
ANDY'S PIC OF RIVER CARNACH AT START OF 1st GORGE – CLICK TO ENLARGE

This wasn’t perilous, by any stretch of the imagination, but there one or two tricky moments where a slip could have meant a nasty tumble down to the rocks below. It only lasted for ten minutes or so. Of course, as soon as we extricated ourselves we looked back and saw a beautiful path coming down the hillside and though a gateway to meet us. So we stopped to have a rest and a bite of second breakfast.

PHIL CHECKING TO SEE HOW ON EARTH WE HAD MISSED THE PATH
PHIL CHECKING TO SEE HOW ON EARTH WE HAD MISSED THE PATH – CLICK TO ENLARGE

We trotted off once more and found the ruin marked on the map, in a truly delightful upper section of the Carnach, as you can see from the next picture, which had us heading on a north easterly direction for a mile or so.

 THE RUIN [AND PHIL]
THE RUIN [AND PHIL] – CLICK TO ENLARGE

Now the glen took on a more wild aspect; it really did feel like the “rough bounds of Knoydart” here  It’s a mixture of bare rock and bog underfoot and the river has wonderful waterfalls.

HEADING N.E. UP THE CARNACH
HEADING N.E. UP THE CARNACH – CLICK TO ENLARGE

At the end of the ‘north east’ section we decided to stop and have a bite to eat as it was almost lunchtime. At this point a Dutch chap caught us up and joked “Have you seen the old guy with the enormous rucksack? I left him in the gorge. He didn’t look too steady on his feet!” We pointed him in the direction he should go (anywhere but with us, PLEASE!) as he was on a variant of the Cape Wrath Trail, which meant we sent him straight up the hillside and over Mam Unndalain.

I’ll now show you a blown up version of the last map, to make things a little clearer:

TGOC2014 DAY 2 ACTUAL ZOOMED
TGOC2014 DAY 2 ACTUAL, ZOOMED – CLICK TO ENLARGE

Our planned route had us now heading slightly south of east through the valley floor alongside the river. Quite delightful; but this is what we were looking at: Big cliffs dropping into the north side of the river and a jumble of rocks on the south side. (No mention of that on the map, mind!)

DIRECTION OF TRAVEL
DIRECTION OF TRAVEL: ANDY EXPLORING THE JUMBLE OF BOULDERS ON THE SOUTH BANK – CLICK TO ENLARGE

Over lunch we had pondered climbing up the hillside to the immediate north of us to gain the track that then headed eastwards. But that meant a clamber of about five hundred feet up a steep, greasy and boggy hillside. Instead, we decided to investigate the right bank of the river. In practice, that meant sending Andy into our second gorge of the day. He’s a good man.

Okay. Cards on the table: With hindsight, this was a daft idea. Now take a look at that last map closely. You’ll see that at this point, the OS’s cartographers couldn’t draw all four 10m contours between the thicker 50m contours, as there wasn’t enough room to cram them all in. Ho hum…

After Andy assured me and Phil that “it would go,” it went like this:

ANDY: “Now there’s a finger hold for your left hand just up there. There’s a really good one for your right hand over there – no, higher – you’ll have to stretch for it. Now swing your right leg round this rock for a toehold. No. There’s nothing for your left foot; You’ll just have to swing your left leg round the rock and let it dangle. Now – Just shimmy up that crack and wriggle your way up…”

ME: “Are you Effing Mad??? I can’t pull my arse up that! Haven’t you noticed; I’m carrying a sodding great rucksack! I’m not shimmying up anything, Mate!”

ANDY: (Evenly) “It’s that or go back the way we came, Buddy.”

ME:  (After a pause and an undignified lunge for various finger and foot-holds) “FUCK! That hurt.”

I had swung my left left leg around the rock and wacked my knee incredibly painfully against the rock I was swinging it round. I did manage to shimmy and wriggle my way up the crack though. Phil seemed to manage the manoeuvre with a great deal more aplomb than I could muster…

Andy doled out a few more impromptu climbing lessons in the next half hour to his very reluctant pupil, who by now was very sore, hot & bothered, and more than a little irked with himself for choosing this utterly barmy route variant, when there was probably a perfectly good path a mere 500 feet up the hillside on the other side of the river, which was now a bit of a torrent in the gorge below us.

Purely for your edification and utter delight, I’ll now post a Forestry Map of the area, at 1:10k scale, which I found after the Challenge, which shows the path on the north side of the river, following a beautiful balcony route all the way to Lochan nam Breac. *SIGH*.

TGOC2014 DAY 2. 1/10,000 FORESTRY MAPPING
TGOC2014 DAY 2. 1/10,000 FORESTRY MAPPING – CLICK TO ENLARGE

So, encumbered as we were with our wonderful choice of route, we slithered and grunted our way over and under rocky outcrops, slowly gaining height in sloppy bog to get away from the madness of the gorge.

JUST BOG & TUSSOCKS NOW. PHEW!
JUST BOG & TUSSOCKS NOW. PHEW! – CLICK TO ENLARGE


LOCHAN NAM BREAC IN THE DISTANCE
ALLELUJAH! LOCHAN NAM BREAC IN THE DISTANCE – CLICK TO ENLARGE


ANDY'S PICTURE. DESCENDING TO OUTFLOW OF LOCHAN NAM BREAC
ANDY'S PICTURE. DESCENDING TO OUTFLOW OF LOCHAN NAM BREAC – CLICK TO ENLARGE

We crossed the river at about Easting 904 on a huge rock-fall of boulders that had bridged the river. We then worked our way up to the old path on the north side of the river. We had to wait for a good while as Phil, to his distress, suffered another Imodium Moment.

He caught us up, and so we had a second lunch, (with Phil opting for a modest, if slightly bland repast of yet more Imodium) as the worst now seemed to be over… Oh dear…

PHIL, AFTER SWALLOWING YET MORE IMMODIUM
PHIL, AFTER SWALLOWING YET MORE IMMODIUM – CLICK TO ENLARGE

Onwards! So our heroes are now at about Easting 910 (look at the map – it’s what it’s there for – Come to think of it, I wish I had looked a little closer when I was planning the route…) and now on a fairly decent path that comes and goes but it’s difficult to lose it. Looking back, the path on the north side of the River Carnach does look pretty good, if a trifle boggy. Ho hum. We’ll put it down to experience then.

LOOKING BACK TO THE CARNACH'S UPPER GORGE
LOOKING BACK TO THE CARNACH'S UPPER GORGE – CLICK TO ENLARGE

The path climbs and weaves its way wonderfully until it almost drops down to the western end of Lochan nam Breac, where we took the following snaps:

WESTERN END OF LOCHAN NAM BREAC
WESTERN END OF LOCHAN NAM BREAC – CLICK TO ENLARGE


LOCHAN NAM BREAC - WILD STUFF
LOCHAN NAM BREAC: WILD STUFF – CLICK TO ENLARGE


PHIL'S PICTURE: SOUTH SIDE OF LOCHAN NAM BREAC
PHIL'S PICTURE: SOUTH SIDE OF LOCHAN NAM BREAC – CLICK TO ENLARGE


OBLIGATORY PICTURE OF WELL-LIT TREE @ LOCHAN NAM BREAC
OBLIGATORY PICTURE OF WELL-LIT TREE @ LOCHAN NAM BREAC – CLICK TO ENLARGE

The path then climbs again to thread its way wonderfully through the crags and tiny meadows…

PHIL, KNOYDART

to drop you neatly at the eastern end of the lochan.

What a place! I can honestly say that this particular spot is one of the most achingly beautiful places I’ve ever been to in Scotland. There’s a silver sand beach, cropped green grass and a view that beats them all. It’s like standing just inside the western doorway of a wonderful cathedral and staring down to a magnificent altar window. Quite awe inspiring.

LOCHAN NAM BREAC, LOOKING WEST
LOCHAN NAM BREAC, LOOKING WEST – CLICK TO ENLARGE

The path crosses the inflow of the loch at this point and it looks shallow to a little sandy island in the middle, so we all paddle across in our shoes. The hop over to the south shore looks a little deeper so Andy held his shoes in his hands and waded across. I wish I had videoed this, as he plunged headlong into the water, plunging his shoes in first, as the sand beneath him suddenly dropped away. Mates, eh?

PHIL'S PICTURE. I'M STILL GRINNING AT ANDY'S ANTICS
PHIL'S PICTURE. I'M STILL GRINNING AT ANDY'S ANTICS – CLICK TO ENLARGE


ANDY'S PICTURE OF SEMI-NAKED MEN
ANDY'S PICTURE OF SEMI-NAKED MEN – CLICK TO ENLARGE


ANDY'S PICTURE [DESPERATELY HOPING WE WERE GOING TO FALL IN]
ANDY'S PICTURE [DESPERATELY HOPING WE WERE GOING TO FALL IN] – CLICK TO ENLARGE

It was as we were sitting down in the sunshine drinking in the view and trying to get all the sand from between our toes that we realised it was now a quarter to five in the afternoon and we had come a grand distance of…

…. just four and three quarters of a mile.

Oooops.

Nothing for it but to press on.

There were still some little climbs to do on our way to Loch Quoich, but the views back west were simply breath-taking. Here’s my favourite picture of our Challenge. It’s Phil heading away from Lochan nam Breac.

PHIL & LOCHAN NAM BREAC, KNOYDART
PHIL & LOCHAN NAM BREAC, KNOYDART – CLICK TO ENLARGE


ANDY'S PICTURE
ANDY'S PICTURE – CLICK TO ENLARGE


ANDY'S PICTURE OF ME
ANDY'S PICTURE OF ME – CLICK TO ENLARGE

Finally, we made the dams at the western end of Loch Quoich, which is an unusual loch as it is dammed at both ends, being as it’s on the watershed. Now there are a few pictures to come of Loch Quoich, as it was so good to finally get there!

LOCH QUOICH
LOCH QUOICH (1) CLICK TO ENLARGE


LOCH QUOICH (2)
LOCH QUOICH (2) – CLICK TO ENLARGE


LOCH QUOICH (3)
LOCH QUOICH (3) – CLICK TO ENLARGE

We now beetled along the eastern end of the Loch, pausing on each of the two dams to take the next two pictures of our last look back into the heart of Knoydart.

LAST LOOK AT KNOYDART (1)
LAST LOOK AT KNOYDART (1) – CLICK TO ENLARGE


LAST LOOK AT KNOYDART (2) BEN ADEN
LAST LOOK AT KNOYDART (2) BEN ADEN – CLICK TO ENLARGE

So now, time really was getting on, and it was obvious that we were not going to do our planned day, so after a quick conflab we decided that it would be a smart move to get over the one really iffy river crossing today, as the weather looked like it was going to turn for the worse. Our wonderful Vetter, Colin Crawford, had warned us that the Abhainn Chosaidh could be a right bastard in spate as it’s chock full of large boulders which means the river is deep and fast around them. So it was best to get that over & done with today while the chances of a low crossing were still good.

That was still another three miles away along the very rough shore-line of Loch Quoich, so we knuckled down and plodded first along the old road and when that disappeared along the best line amongst the boggy tussocks that we could make. I took a purler along this section, banging my already hurty knee. We arrived at the Abhainn Chosaidh at about 8:30 – it was in a nasty little gorge and after finding a half decent crossing point, it started to piss down with nasty cold rain. Oh great.

Safely across we set off, by now very keen to get the shelters up as quickly as possible. but there was nothing. For ages. And Ages.

Here’s look back at the magnificent country at this point:

LOOKING BACK, LOCH QUOICH LOOKING BACK, LOCH QUOICH – CLICK TO ENLARGE

We prodded various bits of ground disconsolately with our walking poles, and eventually plumped for a very unprepossessing looking spot at 9:15pm. Knackered. And just a little bit fed up with the day, which was grossly mean of us as it had been through some of the most wonderful scenery in the world!

However, we made it our home for the night and before too long we had the stoves on and the flasks passed around. We felt heaps better. Here’s a picture taken the next morning. Nice, eh?

PICTURE OF LOCH QUOICH CAMP
PICTURE OF LOCH QUOICH CAMP – CLICK TO ENLARGE

Okay, Lionel Blue’s Mum had been helicoptered out, but we were only half a day behind schedule. I think we can cope with that.

28 April 2012

TGO Challenge: Cautionary Tales, Part 2: Hotel bathrooms

From Part 1 of this occasional series:

“There’s all manner of pitfalls to fall into: Getting lost. Getting soaking wet. Getting hungry, tired, emotional and possibly getting hurt. All these situations niggle away at the back of your mind before you set off. I just thought I would bash a few notes out on the old Remington on another of the pitfalls for the unwary.”

This particular incident took place on my TGO Challenge eleven years ago.

BEWARE OF HOTEL BATHROOMS!

It was the year of the Foot & Mouth outbreak and the “mini-Challenge,” which started on the A9 and finished on the east coast. However, our party had managed to assemble a complete crossing, helped by friendly landowners who had suggested viable routes through their estates. I was suffering my own version of “Foot and Mouth” with a very painful gouty toe; my “index toe” (the one next to my big toe) was very swollen, so it was almost the size of my big toe. All very painful and unpleasant.

Team, Crow Craigies May 2001
ME, MICK, BOB, & PHIL, ON CROW CRAIGIES MAY 2001

It had been a wonderful walk over from Braemar to Clova via Jock’s Road and by the time we arrived at the newly refurbished Clova Hotel we were bushed! The hotel foyer had newly laid cream carpets. The white paint gleamed, indeed some was still wet. But they were open for business to this ragged bunch of smelly hikers. We all agreed to meet up in the bar as soon as we were scrubbed and polished. 

My bedroom was magnificent: Large, airy, and freshly decorated, with the same sumptuous carpet as in the foyer. The bathroom glistened with polished chrome and all in a dazzling bright white with brand new fluffy white towels. In short, I felt guilty festooning the place with the smelly contents of my rucksack.

I ran a steaming hot bath to within a few inches of the sides and gingerly lowered my aching carcase towards the water. It was at this crucial moment, with my backside a foot above the bathwater, that my grip on narrow tiled shoulder of the bath slipped.

I plummeted the remaining foot or so into the water, my body whizzing down to the far end of the bath. There was a huge tidal wave of water that topped the bath and cascaded onto the bathroom floor. I banged my head on the back of the bath but there was a also stabbing pain down at the other end of my leg.

Being as blind as a bat without my spectacles, I could not work out where the pain was coming from but I could make out a nasty red blur at the other end of the bath. My gouty toe was jammed up the incredibly sharp crinkly inner of the hot tap and I was bleeding like a stuck pig! Levering myself back up to a sitting position I yanked the offending digit from the tap, only for even more blood to pour from the throbbing beast!

I felt about blindly for my wire-framed specs, which I had placed carefully on the loo seat next to the bath, but they were not there. They had been washed away by the tidal wave. Not to be caught out again by the slippery bath sides I slid my legs over the side of the bath, my body flopping out after my legs.

There was an awful lot of blood splashing about the pristine white floor tiles and so I reached for the loo roll only to grab a handful of soggy tissue. It too had been overwhelmed by the tidal wave. The fluffy white towels were forced into service and so with them acting as a monstrous white bandage, I clumped my way into my room to find the first aid kit.

***

The hotel were incredibly nice about it. The room looked as if a mad axeman had been at work, with blood spatters over the walls, floor tiles and carpets. The towels looked to be completely ruined. I patched myself up and the hotel very kindly put cleaners to work.

With my toe bandaged, I stomped off down to the bar, where the others were well into their puddings by now. They all thought it highly amusing and later on, a Swiss Army penknife was produced and a suitably anaesthetised surgeon offered to remove the offending toe whilst the rest of the team were to hold me down.

I beat a hasty retreat.

26 April 2012

TGO Challenge: Cautionary Tales, Part 1: The Tick Bite

THE TICK BITE:

In the TGO Challenge Final details it states:
“Ticks tend to secrete themselves away in warm areas of the body and their bite is not normally noticed. All Challengers should be very vigilant, examining themselves and their partners every night, carefully removing any found on the skin.”

I reached Braemar as a solo walker, Bob having dropped out at Corrour Station with feet resembling chopped liver. I have to say, we were not in the habit of checking each other over for ticks but by the time I arrived at the Fife Arms I knew that something was not right “down below.” I checked in at reception and rather than nipping straight upstairs to my room to check out the discomfort, I was waylaid by Terry & Keith in the hotel’s main bar, who had seen me arrive.

Quite a few hours and many rounds later, I eventually extricated myself from the party. Once in the privacy of my room I began the search for the cause of the irritation. This involved staring into the small mirror of my sighting compass at the reflection of my undercarriage. With my balance slightly altered by the application of severalteen pints of Guinness, this inevitably led to frequent tumbles onto the bedroom carpet.

This obviously was not working. I solved the falling over problem by taking myself off into a full-to-the-brim bathtub with my sighting compass to have another look. With my feet up on the far end of the bath and the compass under the water I could spy the trouble: A big fat tick, delicately positioned between balls and bottom!


I think there's a location missing here...



I don’t know if you have ever tried to perform this operation under water with one hand holding a compass and the other the tweezers. It is jolly near impossible. For a start, everything is the wrong way round in the mirror and after the Guinness, the problems seemed to be insurmountable.

Having jabbed and tweaked various dangly bits with differing degrees of pain, I gave this up as a bad job and decided to seek medical help after smearing myself liberally with half a tube of Savlon.

By now it was getting towards time for dinner and so I dressed and slid down the Fife’s wonderful bannisters to pop into the bar for some uncomfortable food. It was whilst finishing off my pudding that I made the fatal mistake. I asked Terry if there was a Doctor in Braemar.

Before I knew it, the whole bar knew of my delicate predicament. Tomorrow was a Sunday and everyone assured me that the Doctor didn’t have a surgery that day. But apparently, I was in luck; Keith worked at a hospital and had just the equipment for the job: a pair of long-nosed tweezers.

At this point, I should make you aware that Keith & Terry had been in the Fife Arms all day, having arrived the evening before.

A head-torch and the long-nosed tweezers were produced and it was as I was bent over the back of a settee, with my trousers around my ankles in the lounge bar of the Fife, with Terry and his head torch & tweezers extracting the burrowing beastie, that the late running Wallace Arnold coach party burst through the front doors of the hotel to check in.