Distance: 29km
I didn’t sleep very well. That weird thing where I’m not quite sure I should be where I am, expecting a knock on the tent door all night and a polite request to leave. It doesn’t happen and I see no one, but I still don’t sleep well.
A mixed day of fortunes on the walk today. I emerged from my campsite and straight onto the Spey Reservoir, looking oh so scenic on this sunny morning. I spot movement up ahead, and am thrilled to see three red deer grazing down on the foreshore. They let me enjoy looking at them for a while, seemingly content if I keep my distance. All three boast a pair of very impressive antlers, though not yet full grown.
Onwards and it’s a long, long roadwalk. Straight lines for miles with a limited palette on either side. Walk, walk, walk. It’s not particularly pleasureable, but at least I’m gettting somewhere quickly.
Eventually, I get to the gravel track which will lead me over the Corrieyairack pass. It’s a strange sort of place. It feels remote, but front and centre are a line of very modern looking electricity towers guiding the way. It’s a long, but relatively easy climb. I notice that a bunch of wild moorland flowers are starting to emerge. Tiny red and pink carnivorous plants compete with giant stardrops, their yellow arms ringed with fringing black hairs. There are blankets of yellow and white daisies, their heads bending gracefully in the strong wind blowing at the top of the pass.
On top all is quiet, no bird call. All I can hear is my breath, and the faint buzzing of electricity as it travels along the wires. Eventually, I hear a bike bell or two as well.
I arrive at he Blackburn bothy by 4.30pm. This bothy is not as salubrious as some of the previous ones I have seen, which is a shame, as for now, I’m the only one here. Unlike the other bothys, this one has no bed racks but it does have a clean floor, desk and chair and thick walls which keep out the blustery wind. I’m still trying to decide whether to sleep on the floor or not…the wind is making it hard to choose. If somebody comes, I’ll definitely set up my tent. If not, well, it’ll give me somethig to think about this afternoon won’t it?
Of course I set my tent up. It’s my place of comfort. Why would I sleep on the hard floor? With that completed, there is only one other thing to do. Dance.
For the first time on the trip I get my headphones out. It’s time. Under their non-judgemental gaze, and with their arms wrapped around me, the mountains hug me to them whilst I dance and scream and sing out emotions of all sorts. I let it all out like no one is watching, because those beautiful mountains are the only ones who are.
This article was originally published on The Trek which can be found here