Distance: 34km
I’ve had to do a little bit of soul searching in the last day. My rest day in Inchandamph was spent huddling in my room, maps and internet at the ready, whilst the rain pelted down outside. It really didn’t stop all day. And it got me thinking. And it got me worried. And it got me focussing on my goals. And what I determined was this….
I’m here to walk the length of Scotland. So faced with these rather atrocious conditions, I’m going to do what I need to do to achieve that. I look at the maps and decide that I am going to do two sections of road walking, totalling a distance of about 25km, which will move me past some of the more problematic areas of creeks and gorges that I would still have to contend with on the Cape Wrath Trail.
The problem, is “spate”. When it rains heavily enough that it drains from the steep sided mountains very quickly, it leads to an enormous, rapid and dangerous rise in water levels. With all this rain, I’m really worried about spate. Worried I’ll get stuck somewhere I don’t want to be. This awful weather is set to continue, and I’m ready to complete my mission.
So, it will still be a continuous crossing of Scotland, with just a couple of small tweaks to help me get there safely.
With that decided, I quickly worked out I could be at Cape Wrath within 3 days! Problem….access to Cape Wrath is going to be closed for military target practice bombing! I can’t believe it! I’m going to have to drag out to an extra day. I’m ok with that. I’m going to have to be!
It is absolutely pouring rain all morning as I think about leaving. There are indications that it might clear up a little later in the afternoon, so I stay in my room right up to check out time at 10.30am. Straight into it. Saturated.
I’m on one of my road walk deviations this morning. 15km into Kylestrome. Despite the rain, the road walk is amazing! Incredible views of mountains and lakes. The road isn’t hugely busy, though I do suffer from inconvenient and rather humiliating splashing each time a car goes past.
It doesn’t snow, but it sure does sleet. The most dangerous factor today though is the wind, which is gusting in the region between 50 – 70 km / hr. It’s enough to stop me dead in my tracks, which it does do, frequently. I’ve already started worrying about a potential campsite for the night.
For the afternoon I’m back on the trail and heading extensively uphill and over a moor. I manage a few good viewing stints in between rain showers. It really is beautiful.
By the time I reach the turn off to climb Ben Dreavie, the weather has socked in again and it is just a squalling white haze. I do as the trail notes suggest, and continue on the track I am on, down to the road, giving the mountain a miss.
On the road, I’m still thinking about camp. I’m aiming for an old house ruin, and I’m just hoping that I will be able to use it to protect my tent behind a wind wall. As I struggle against the blustery conditions, going backwards instead of forwards at times, I can still appreciate what I am seeing in this landscape. It is THAT amazing. What’s more, the wind is whipping up giant water spouts that dance across the lake like restless souls.
Just as I reach the ruined hut, a fellow pulls up and offers me some space in some stables if I need it…though he doesn’t know the condition of the stables and I would need to retrace my steps about 5km or so. I thank him. The truth is, that if I cannot pitch this tent in exactly the right spot to get some protection, I might need to take him up on his offer.
I have a look. It’s not going to be comfortable, but there is just enough room to squeeze in next to the critical wall. I set up and dive into the tent, with no intentions of leaving for the foreseeable future. The wind is vicious. If I didn’t have complete faith in the rock solid nature of my beloved Hubba Hubba tent, this would be a very scary night indeed. It still might be I suppose, but within these walls I feel pretty safe and secure. If not particularly snug.
This article was originally published on The Trek which can be found here
Your Victorian weather experience sure held you in good stead here! You KNEW your tent would hold up! But you must’ve been so cold and wet, walking in the sleet…. views are stunning though! “There is none bolder”, a line from “The Scottish Soldier”, is very appropriate to you!
Thank goodness for that hardy little tent!!
It is very unfortunate that the fabled Scottish weather has shown itself in full force! And don’t forget – this is summer over there. Hang onto the fact that you are almost finished the memorable trek.