On the shores of some Loch on day 1 of the Great Glen Way. Yesterday I said goodbye to Tony and Craig after walking the 2 miles into Fort William then headed into the ER. The nurse called the national health line who found me an emergency appointment with a dentist to fix that poking wire in my mouth. Later I dropped my bag at a homey old hostel before an improbable shopping session-- I bought exciting things like a new pair of hiking socks and more white gas. Sauteed mushrooms for dinner (and wrote home about it too) because that's what I do these days.
I started my walk this morning at noon after a slow start with a visit to the grocery store and the library. The rain was coming down in freezing sideways sheets. After an hour through little villages along the water, the rain abated to a drizzle and I came to the Caledonian canal. I went past the flight of 8 locks called Neptune's Staircase... no boats were out because of the weather. I heaved down my pack and had a nice chat with the British Waterways man whose job it was to hand-crank a bridge to open and close it for passing boats and traffic. I had walked the 10 miles to Garliochy by 4 which surprised me because I didn't think I had gone that fast... I guess there just weren't many sights to stop and gawk at along the way. There was actually nothing at Garliochy beyond a bridge and a signpost, so I kept walking. The trail led off the towpath by the water to the paved road high above it-the normal marked trail was actually through a forest but a detour sign said falling tree limbs made it dangerous. I listened to the signs. I passed a few streets of houses lined up against the southern shores of the loch but no services at all for hikers... not even B&Bs. After entering the "wild" section of trail (a sign warned me that the next 7 miles would be far from human habitation) I found a bench and fire pit: just the place to set up camp. I heated water for dinner on my struggling sputtering stove (I am too afraid of fire to make a campfire when I am by myself). Now I am all snug in my sleeping bag and the rain has stopped. Maybe the tent will have a chance to dry. I am off to my book again.
Up and off by 9 yesterday. I always want to wake up earlier when I am wild camping because I don't like people passing my tent while I am still sleeping. I walked in the "wild" "isolated" forest until 12. I was only passed by a couple of cars. So much for wilderness. The northern end of the loch had locks on it, and a big docked boat had a bar on it, so I went in for hot tomato soup and friendly conversation with my fellow walkers (it took a minute to order the soup because they didn't readily understand to-may-to as opposed to to-mah-to). Next I went off along the canal and the straight path created by stripping an old railway line. 5 miles of singing later, I came to a swinging bridge and a tea house built just for walkers. An afternoon pot of tea with homemade scones was really an obligatory stop. The trail led between the canal and a river, with boats going up and down the locks in the afternoon sun. I sang loud and obnoxious renditions of Mamma Mia and Wicked and Ragtime to keep me going as I got tired. I got in to Fort Augustus around 6, rounding out mile 32 for two days. 4 English guys pulling their canoe out of the water asked me about camping spots in town. I ended up hanging with them, eating a snack of chips before setting up a cool camp in the grass along the public walk just beyond the locks and before the open water of Loch Ness. It was a calm night, weather wise, and the tarp draped over the canoes and supported by oars was shelter enough. The English guys had a British Waterways key, which meant access to the warm showers in the bathrooms. We stayed up late chatting and eating snacks like crisps and green olives and anything else the guys could find in their bottomless bags. How easy it is to pack big when you get to carry your gear in a canoe rather than on your bag. Later, I found myself a spot under the tarp with my new friends and had a surprisingly warm and comfortable night.
Woke up to their 6.40 alarm. I bought bread and cheese and yogurt for breakfast and lunch snaclks after watching them put out. There was a 7 mile climb in intermittent sunshine to Invermoriston. As always my walk was punctuated most by weather and food... I had a hot chocolate and banana break before another climb and then walks along the forest plantation track high above Loch Ness. Around 3, when the 2 guys I had walked with went down to Altsigh to catch their bus, I calculated that I had about 10 miles left until Drumnadrochit. I didn't really plan... just kept walking. The clear views of the long loch and the villages across the water were the best that afternoon. I took long breaks in the sunshine to scan the water's surface for Nessie but the only tracks were the V streaks left by passing tourist boats. The breaks were a little too long I guess, because I trudged past farms then villages always looking at my watch and my map, wondering how much further. I couldn't camp because I drank up all my water because of the unexpectedly hot afternoon. I had purifying tablets, of course, but there was even any dirty brackish water in sight (yum). So I had to make it to Drum. I walked feeling quite run-down, slamming my walking poles into the ground to take a bit of weight off my aching feet. My energy was so low I couldn't even sing stupid songs to keep me going. I made it to town with fading light just after 8. I found a small independent hostel in Lewiston just before Drumnadrochit after my second 20miles+ day. Tomorrow I will rest here I think-so tired- feet aching.
May 1. I lazed away yesterday with big bowls of cold milk and crunchy cereal and internet and newspaper reading at the library (this was the beginning of the Swine flu scare in Scotland). While in town, I was watching a boys' field hockey match in the park. The boys were about 13. A woman passing by asked if any of them were mine. Emm no.
Walked out of town in the morning past lambing fields then mostly harvested tree plantations. It was a windy day with only pocketfuls of sunshine. I went slowly, deciding not to go all the way to Inverness. Read my book during lunch until my fingers got too cold, then went a little further to a campsite in the heather. Rory welcomed me to his little campsite-- basically cleared out spaces on the bouncy heather moor with 9 year old rowan trees fighting to grow all around me. I could have camped "wild" but figured it was worth the small price to have a toilet, a bonfire, and someone else making me breakfast in the morning. Especially since my stove puttered out completely while I was trying to heat water, which meant I had two packets of plain tuna for dinner. Yum. And then my spork snapped in half while I was trying to eat. Great. But my morale wasn't really down--all this little stuff--all fixable. So I joined Rory at the huge fire to watch heather burn bright orange like coral and to share a few wee drams of whisky. I turned around and around warming myself for hours until the sky was totally dark at 10. Rory pointed out birds' nests and flying bats and told me of his plans to work as a stonemason on the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona--cool.
Inverness hostel. I walked impatiently past farms then in the forest. I passed another girl my age walking by herself in the opposite direction. It turns out she was from Finland (!!!) so I had her write down her email address so I could ask her for trail advice in her home country. I came out of the forest and saw the city from above, but there were still 3 miles to the city center. I liked the last bit of trail, walking on urban-islands on the river just above the city center, because this was a part of Inverness that I didn't know existed when I last was there 2 weeks earlier with Becca. That made me a bit sad too, because I wished Becca had seen those spots. I did rejoice in the fact that when we were there together, the daffodils were in full bloom; now, two weeks later, they are drooping and brown. Mostly the last bit of the walk was challenging because my shoulder hurt and after two weeks of pushing myself my ankle finally pushed back. So I was quite a sight, a vertible boulder of a backpack on my back and limping into a clean modern city. I found a hostel bed and searched around all the outdoor shops in town for a way to repair my stove. Tired and clean, I spent the evening in the hostel reading a book. After only a few hours relaxing indoors, I felt a bit sluggish, like my body knew I should really still be out walking.
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