Raising money for UNICEF

Sleepily and slowly I started along my Cape Wrath Trail. There isn’t currently a set trail, so my route is the 230 miles that borrows from others and best fits my timescale. I started my route from the monument at Glenfinnan, quickly making my way towards the viaduct.

Road turned into track, which in turn became path, which then alternated between path, sheep trail and bog. The going felt slow but I was confident that I could get there OK. I could already tell why it can take some people three weeks to complete this.

As I approached the forest by Glen Pean there were diversion signs blocking my route. I decided not to ignore the warning on account of my not wanting a tree to fall on me. Then it started to rain. Then I had to walk through a bog full of bitey insects. I’m tired of having midges in my eyes, ears and up my nose. I’m tired of being bitten and being in pain. It seemed like my luck had run out.

As I rounded into Glen Dessarry the wind started to blow. It’s strange how different the weather can be from one glen to another. The wind wasn’t too strong and made it slow going, but if anything it suited me better than the scorching heat.

I passed a sign which more or less said here be dragons and that if you screwed up out here then you’d better be sure you could get yourself out of it. No going back now, I was me alone. That was followed by a sign that said Sourlies Bothy was four hours away. I hoped that sign was wrong. I had hoped to make it to Barisdale tonight.

I thought about all the extra weight I was carrying. Stuff that I don’t really need, like those new trail runners, foam mat and extra water. I should have more faith in my ability to fix things. I suppose I don’t have the weight of a spare phone or emergency personal locator beacon. I’m at least comfortable in my ability to get myself out of trouble. That extra weight that gets carried is just from fear of something going wrong.

My other extra weight issue is that of food. I have something of a rocketfuel problem. I need food to keep going but the extra weight in my pack means I’m moving slower. I’m undecided whether to eat more now or save for later.

As I walked and thought, it started getting late, or at least slightly gloomy. I couldn’t tell the time through the clouds. Perhaps 27 miles was a bit ambitious for a first day back on the trail. Besides, it looks like Sourlies Bothy is about 20 miles along, so more or less on target.

My bog-sodden feet trudged me there, where I was welcomed by four other walkers. They were stopping there for a night before walking on out to a distant pub.

I had hoped to be alone, but it was quite nice having people around. I’d not seem anyone all day. It turned out that one of the people in the bothy is an engineering student at Cambridge; it’s a small world.

I’m drying out, eating and plotting my moves for tomorrow. It looks like if I want to go a reasonable distance and have somewhere bog-free to camp then I’ll have to make up those seven miles tomorrow. It’s going to take an early start, so I’ll make this an early night.

It’s probably a good thing that I’m not walking today. I’ve had five hard walks in a row and more to come. I’ll have extra food and water, plus the addition of a foam sleeping mat and extra pair of trail runners on my back. My pack weight is likely to be around 20 kg. It seems ludicrous to need that much weight for stuff and to take up the full 60 litres of my pack. It looks like fast and light has gone out of the window until I’ve eaten a few days worth of food and my other boots finally die.

My day off involves a ride on The Jacobite steam train. It goes along the route and viaduct made famous by the Harry Potter films. They are quick to capitalise on that.

The train was full. I felt a little uncomfortable being surrounded by tourists. I’ve probably got a little too used to solitude. As we approached the viaduct the tourists flocked to the windows, digital cameras and smartphones in hand, all determined to get the same photo. They seemed happy looking through their lenses, but I was content just looking out the window and enjoying what I could see. If I need a reminder of it I can do a google image search when I get home or sit and re-watch Harry Potter. It was worth seeing despite the hordes.

The train stopped at Glenfinnan. This spot would mark the start of my journey up the Cape Wrath Trail tomorrow. A piper replaced my earworm as everyone piled out of the train to spend 15 minutes photographing Glenfinnan. The train continued on and there were some l great views. Maybe I’m being a bit of a curmudgeon, or perhaps I’d enjoy it more with less tourists or when more awake. I think the main reason I was left less than inspired was the fact I’d spend the last week walking through the hills. The sense of scale was lost on a train and as much as I enjoyed the journey, I’d have rather been on foot (or maybe on a motorbike, the bikers out there look to be having fun).

If I was only in Scotland for a few days, or if I had a family and wanted to see the hills then I think this train journey would have been amazing. After a week I fear I may have become a little desensitised to it all. Instead the highlight of my journey was a proper fish and chips in Mallaig. It was the sort of place that serves all the foods a traditional chippy should; you could have both fish and chips. The additional options included mushy peas, gravy and curry sauce. You’d not find a kebab here. The fish was excellent and the chips were pretty good too.

On the way back I got chatting to someone friendly people from Letchworth, they donated £10. It amazes me how kind some of the strangers I’ve met have been.

Tomorrow I’ll be making my next steps towards earning that donation. The Cape Wrath Trail guides recommend taking two to three weeks to complete it. My challenge is to get to the end in less than two. I’ve been told that you can go days without seeing another soul out there. I’ve got everything I need on my back and it sounds like I really will be out there alone. It feels like here’s where the adventure really starts.

I was exhausted when my alarm went off at eight. My second breakfast in a row was cornflakes, a sausage and bacon sandwich and another four rounds of toast. I could get used to this.

Next up was shoe shopping. As much as I love my trail runners Ben Nevis had taken its toll on them. I found an identical pair that had been updated for this year. I tried them on and it was bliss, they just felt so right. It was as if I was cheating on my old pair. It’s like some sort of long-term relationship, my old shoes are worn and familiar – we’ve shared good times and bad, I wouldn’t be where I am now without them. But my potential new shoes are exciting and seem like a good fit. Do I trade something I know for something a bit different? Like a two-timing love rat I chose both. I’d pay for it later with the extra weight on my shoulders and the guy in the store seemed bemused at my decision to keep wearing these old things, I guess some people will never understand. For now I’ll keep wearing my old ones, patching things up when I can until things can no longer be repaired; I’ll try my best to keep this relationship alive though I fear it is doomed to failure. During that time I will secretly covet the new shoes in my rucksack and eventually the time will come where I have to make the switch.

The walk down to Steall seemed to go on and on. My legs were tired and I felt drained. It was also the first time I’ve passed a large red sign warning ‘Danger of Death’ reminding the unwary that fatal accidents are possible out here. The scenery here was far more interesting than that of Ben Nevis, and after a packet of crisps at the ruins I crossed a wire bridge and began my climb up An Gearanach. It was steep in places and my calf muscles burnt as I quickly made my way up. I was fighting against the clock if I were to get around early enough to continue ticking off jobs that needed doing before I headed out onto the Cape Wrath Trail. I didn’t want to compromise the main part of the walk by rushing it, so pushing on up to the first summit seemed the sensible way of saving time. As I made my way up the mountain rescue helicopter landed on Ben Nevis behind me, another reminder not to do anything too stupid.

I had the song ‘Ring of Fire’ in my head as I made my way up. It was the first time in days that something had replaced the sound of bagpipes in my ears. There had been a piper somewhere in Glencoe and the sound of pipes travelled up into the hills. I’d not been able to spot him from either climb, but I suspect he was playing for tourists in one of the car parks. The sound of bagpipes is one that is much more pleasant from a distance, somewhat less harsh. Since then I have had an earworm burying itself in my consciousness and had walked to Fort William with an omnipresent hint of Scotland the Brave.

Once at the top I just so happened to find a nice ridge to walk along. Are you noticing a pattern here? I couldn’t run along this one though. Today my ankles hurt too much and I wouldn’t trust them to keep me stable for long. Not that it stopped me from making an attempt, I just quickly abandoned it after only a few metres.

Like my route, my mood rose and dropped through the day. It’s lonely here, I miss the camaraderie of the trail. The people in the town don’t stop to chat and even with the many tourists there is rarely a sense of shared experience as there was on The Way. Indeed, the only people I met today were walking in the opposite direction and they only stopped to point out I’d be late finishing.

I think the other thing getting me down, besides my creaking joints, was the complete lack of sponsorship I had received. I questioned why I was doing this, whether I’m actually helping UNICEF at all or whether my efforts could be classed as complete and abject failure. That sort of thing.

I could have been in Bruge. At various points over the last few months California and Japan had been potential holiday destinations. Somehow I ended up here, alone, in pain, up a hill.

For all these moments of doubt though, there is something very special and almost overwhelmingly uplifting about reaching the top at the end of a long day. The world opens up and you can see for miles where moments previously all that lay ahead was gruelling climb. I felt like king of the world. Everything I need, I can carry; everything I can see, I can walk to. If there were ever a cure for a dark mood then these hills on a good day could provide it.

I made my way along, my pace varying with my mood. The climb up to Am Bodach was steep but I enjoyed it, even if my knee didn’t. To the south I could make out Aonach Eagach and Bidean. To the north was Ben Nevis and beyond that, to the northwest, lay my ultimate destination: Cape Wrath.

The journey continued well to Stob Chorie a Mhail before it started to deteriorate as I began to flag. Tired and demoralised, Sgurr a Mhaim fell quicker than it might, but it was still a long way back to the valley below. Now I just wanted to be done for the day.

Eventually I made it back into Fort William, and despite the convenience for food (teddy had a deep fried mars bar – he needs the calories). I’ll be glad to be done with the place. Tomorrow is my only planned rest day, and then I’m out into the wilderness, the forecast is rain.

The morning was spent doing some of the odds ands sods that needed my attention. Everything took longer than expected and I still had a long list left when I decided to actually get on with my walking for the day.

The only really memorable bits of the morning were breakfast and a phone call. I had a bowl of rice crispies, four rounds of toast and a ploughmans breakfast consisting of ham, oatcakes and various cheeses. That filled me up. The chat on the phone was with someone from the UNICEF team. They were very encouraging and said it was amazing what I was doing. They asked if there was anything they could to to help my efforts and wished me luck on my journey. The call only lasted about ten minutes but it was really nice to hear from them, and to know they were taking an interest in what I was doing. There are so many other people out there doing far more extraordinary things to raise money, and raising far more than I have. All I’m doing is going for a walk. If I have the energy when I return, I’ll try and organise some sort of welcome home gathering.

With time passing on I walked up from Ben Nevis starting at the visitors’ centre. It seemed somewhat fitting that I was making the end of week one with this walk.

Rather than take the main route up I swung around the mountain, turning left at the loch and making my way to the CIC Memorial Hut. There I met a slow walking guy from Wyoming, we chatted briefly before our paths separated. He was sure there was a path straight ahead. I was keen walk along the ridge, so I turned left and made my way up the steep sides of the hill. I don’t know if there is a proper definition of steep, so decided that from now on it would mean any incline where at times my hands touched the ground. There was one slip where I jarred my left shoulder, but other than that I made it up unscathed.

It’s a beautiful walk along the ridge, which is quite narrow in a couple of places with a good drop either side. I ran along part of it, it had to be done, there’s just something exhilarating about running along the tops of mountains with drops either side. It was only a short run, I’m too clumsy too be careless (and too tired). The ridge was over in no time and I began to make my way up to the summit.

On the way up I met a couple, a guy who was an experienced walker and climber and his girlfriend who was walking up Ben Nevis for the first time. We chatted and he said it was adventurous for me to take that route on my first time up here. I told him of where I had been and what lay ahead, and he apologised for not being in Fort William that evening otherwise they’d have taken me for a drink. I appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

The top of the mountain was covered in cloud, but it was still a great place to be, besides I had seen a lot of the view on the way up. The cloud also meant that I could no longer spot Wyoming. I hoped he was ok and made it to the top safely, but I couldn’t wait and quickly made my way down.

I ran part of the way down, passing a couple of people who I’d met at the top, they were doing the 3 peaks challenge and had to be down by seven. While following the main route back I found snow. I stopped and made a snowball which I attempted to throw into the distance. To be fair it was a pretty pathetic throw, not that I cared. I’d just thrown a snowball on a hot summer day; I was thoroughly enjoying myself. The 3 peaks people passed me as I plodded down, then I bumped into ginger-bearded guy from Glencoe who, having travelled here by car, was amazed to find me here.

Making my way down I re-encountered one of the ladies from the 3 peaks challenge. Her ankle was sore and she was concerned that she wouldn’t make it back in time. It was a group effort and if she didn’t make it back soon then threat of being left behind looked overhead. I encouraged her to walk fast and that if we pushed on we’d get there. Her sore ankle would have six hours to recover before the next peak. I jogged with her the rest of the way down. As we got close her teammates cheered us on as she barely made it back in time. They thanked me for the support and would have bought me a drink had they not needed to bundle it their cars and head off out of Scotland. I didn’t mind and I merrily bounced back to Fort William, my aches temporarily forgotten.

Next job on the list was food, I purchased over 20,000 calories worth and that will have to keep me going to Ullapool. I then stopped for another ice cream before heading back to my B&B. After writing, drying clothes, cleaning and repairing things the clock struck 1am and it was time for me to hit the hay.

For the second day in a row I checked the clock. Five AM and already light. Drowning in mist and with no sleeping mat, I rolled over and attempted another sleep.

A couple of naps later I climbed out so that the midges could have breakfast and I could attempt the Devil’s Staircase before the sun got too high and make it to Fort William before the sun got too low.

The Devil’s Staircase isn’t as hard as it sounds, I seem to recall that it got that name from the people building it rather than the people walking it. The humidity made it tougher, but nothing compared to the past two days.

At the top I met a man who was sitting waiting for a gap in the grey below, waiting for the view to appear. I joined him for a while and in turn we were joined by a couple who had also chosen to tackle the climb early. We must have spent over half an hour chatting away and waiting for that view. It was worth it for the good company as much as the view which slowly appeared. Initially you could only see the hilltops peaking out of the grey, something that was much more impressive than a clear view would have been.

We chatted about the tornados (or so I’m informed) flying around. I had seen a pair fly below me as I was climbing down from Aonach Eagach a couple of days ago. There’s something odd about looking down on a plane in flight.

Conversation drifted towards the walk, and from there to the Germans. There was one who was carrying a rucksack so heavy that legend has it he had to put it on lying down and have his friends help him up. He also had huge sideburns. I’ve seen him walking along and all three seem to have overpacked. The couple thought they may have quit by now, when they last saw that trio the girl was nearly in tears because of the insects and sideburns also looked particularly miserable. It seems that a lot of people have quit this week, either at Inveroran or Kings House, and more due to the weather than the path. I hope none of my new friends have quit. I’m sure the little girl didn’t.

The other three had all chosen to start walking around five this morning, hoping to finish in Kinlochleven before the afternoon sun. The couple had even contemplated walking at night to avoid it. I didn’t have that luxury. I had to get to Fort William before it got too late, so I said my farewells and off I trudged.

You see Kinlochleven a long time before you get there. That was frustrating but the lure of fried food, caffeinated beverages and a much needed top up of water spurred me on. Unfortunately I had arrived too early and the chip shop was still closed. Not to worry, I made my way along to a pub which I knew had internet access. I could go there, have something to eat and drink, catch up with my trip reports and then carry on down The Way. It was also shut. So much for that plan.

Rather than wait for things to open I decided to make the climb up out of Kinlochleven and push on to Fort William. I’d forgotten how steep and closed in this path through the trees was, but along it I came across a stream suitable for resupply, which turned out to be a great idea, before then marching on down the Old Military Road for what seemed like forever.

One forever later and I was informed by a sign that I was only halfway. This bit was no longer fun. I had a long list of jobs to do once I reached my B&B and I just wanted to be in Fort William and away from my own personal spiralling staircase of pain. First my left Achilles’ tendon would hurt, that would cause me to overcompensate with my right leg which in turn would make the front of my right ankle hurt. Then my left knee would have a go, shortly followed by my right hip. Each time around the loop was a little worse and each time around I was walking a little slower. Without the scenery of Glencoe to keep me occupied this was becoming hard work. I was turning it into hard work. I used the thought of fried food in Fort William as the proverbial carrot to keep me going.

I made it to Fort William by 18.30. My spreadsheet informs me that I’ve done about 140 miles in six days. That’s not bad going I suppose.

I walked on to the end, passing all the shops which had shut because it was after five. An ice cream shop was still open so I sat in the sun and ate ice cream. When I was done I noticed there was an ice cream shop open, so I say back down in the sun and ate ice cream.

I made my way to the B&B, which seemed nice enough, before going to buy supplies at the supermarket which included a bottle of sunscreen for £3. My next stop was at a chip shop where I ordered salad and the teddy ordered a battered haggis and chips. They forgot my salad so I had to help the teddy finish his dinner instead.

From there I spent an hour on the phone to my mum and my sister, had a shower and shave, started sorting my kit out and finding that all in all that had already taken me to 1am. I still have a long list of things to do, but for now it is time to sleep.