#20 Big Day Out.

I must have looked a cripple. Physically, I was absolutely shot. My hips felt they were grinding into their sockets with every movement. My thighs brought to mind overcooked sausages needing to be pricked, so close did they feel to bursting. Each step made my knees squeak – in my head, if not in reality – asking to be oiled. And my calves? To be honest I couldn’t feel them by this stage, or my feet for that matter. But for the fact I was still moving towards my destination, I would have assumed them lost to the Scottish Highlands...


If the superfluous array of adjectives doesn’t spell it out.


I was in fucken pain...


The day had started well enough. I had earlier decided I wanted go for a bit of a walk. Being in Inverness, and close to Loch Ness, that was where I would head. A track called the ‘Great Glen Way’ stretches down the Loch from Inverness to Fort William, a distance of 73 miles. I wanted to get to Drumnadrochit, which was about 18 miles down the track. I knew I didn’t have a single piece of suitable clothing for it; grey track pants, a tee shirt, and the ubiquitous converse hi-tops being the clothing for the day; but I figured the walk wouldn’t be that long for it to be an issue.


The fucking Chuck Taylor’s were to be the biggest hindrance; the pain they caused my feet the first four hours will attest to that. Their lack of cushioning is something you don’t pay attention to in day to day wearing, but by Christ I noticed it then! The bad habit they have of squishing your toes into a point also provided problems, but both these faded as I lost the feeling below my knees...


I hadn’t gone in totally blind. I had read a couple of paragraphs out of a small book - while standing in the bookshop - which mentioned it was a day trip. I took that as 5 or 6 hours.


I was wrong.


When talking about it to a guy working at the Hostel (Who has to be the closest thing I’ve ever seen to someone being part down), he mentioned he thought it only took 3 hours.


He was wrong too.


Full of confidence and dodgy information, and despite the hit my map reading ego had taken in recent weeks, I purchased a map of the area, along with a couple bottles of water and some rolls, and hit the road...


I was happy to find out early on that the walk was fairly well signposted. It also dawned on me the 3 hour timeframe was well out the window when it took me 40 minutes to get to the hills of Inverness. ‘6 hours it is’ I thought.

The next hour is what I would describe as the honeymoon period of the walk; everything had a rosy glow, the smile was still on my face, the trees themselves seemed to be alive with light; such a shame it all turned to shit...


The heavily wooded area of the beginning was replaced by an hour or so of walking through scrub. The wind was at its worst in this bare valley, its sole purpose seemingly to cause me grief.
This in turn gave way to a quiet country road. I will mention that to this point I had seen perhaps 8 walkers in the preceding 2 1/2 hours. There were no more.


The country road sloped around a small hill; thankfully it kept to the lower reaches. The burn had begun along the scrub, and was only going to get worse...


A short sit down in the grass next to the road provided a good look at the journey so far. Less than three hours down and well over half way according to the map. Looking good.


About another half hour along and the track departed the road, again for a track through the bush. About fifteen minutes down along I could hear a sound in the distance; the mind wandered.


It was the sound of a chainsaw. Is this it? Could a Scottish Leatherface be waiting to hack me up, eat the remains? The end brought about by Scottish inbreds?


As I got closer, the sound muted; changed. It was a Whipper Snipper. Still... weird enough, I thought. Closer still, I came across a sign.


‘FRESHLY BREWED COFFEE.'


What.The.Fuck.

Next to it.


‘CAMPSITE/VACANCY.’


In the middle of freaking nowhere? I don’t think so.


That’s like the oldest serial killing trick in the book. I’d imagine the coffee is a variation of Mick’s ‘special water from the top end’ for unsuspecting tourist types – just like me.


I decided to pass the lovely place by, and continued along the track until it intersected with a road. This was at about hour 4. A sign lead me to confusion, and a slight pain in the stomach.


INVERNESS 9.8miles / DRUMNADROCHIT 9 miles.


What? The map CLEARLY showed I was about three quarters of the way there. How the fuck could it be only half way?


I dismissed the sign as bullshit, and had a rest. A few texts picked up the spirits, me still thinking I was within 2 hours of my destination.


Setting off, the track joined onto a forestry road, which wound into the mountains around the Loch.


And wound. And wound...


This was my undoing. The majority of the track to this point had been fairly straight, that was all about to change.


So four previous hours walking straight to this point, and now I had four MORE hours walking through the winding hills at the end!


These next four hours are where I believe you find your inner fortitude. Fuck me if I didn’t come up smelling like roses.


I had a sleeping bag, and could have easily lay down and slept.


No, I started this journey with the intention of finishing it that day, and that was exactly what I was going to do.


The first time I laid eyes on the Loch was moving; beyond words. Being at hour 6 and being less than the full quid notwithstanding, it will go down as one of the most beautiful natural sights I have ever seen. As it came into view through a view of Scottish Oak trees, I wish I had said something profound, unfortunately all I could muster was ‘Fuck me, it’s the Loch’


I have found I am really shit at keeping things charged. I have some retarded functioning in my head where I cannot charge things until they are flat. Despite everything going flat just when I want to use it, I cannot get myself to charge them beforehand. My camera went flat before I got to the Loch. Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s a great camera, but because it’s got a specific battery I can’t just stick AA’s into it. Luckily I’ve found I can get a last gasp of pictures out of it by rubbing the battery. Staring at the Loch through the trees, that’s exactly what I did. The trees parted and I got a really good look at her. Again, she’s pretty fantastic to look at. The water is a really dark blue, seeming darker than it should. There were no reflections from the surrounding trees, as if they themselves had been swallowed by the Loch.


The pain briefly subsided while taking in the wonder, but the trek had to continue; the pain to return. A rash had formed around my ankles, perhaps from the stupid early decision to wear thermals in case it was cold. They lasted the first hour until the sweat forced me to rip them off.


Hour seven provided me with a touchstone moment. A small path branched off the main track for about 20 meters, going onto a rock face that had commanding views over the water.


I sat; thought; hell I even talked to myself for a bit. Then it came over me, I felt this feeling well up from inside. Standing up, I briefly glanced about (I was in the middle of nowhere, but come on, I’m not in the habit of making a total dick of myself...am I?) and did it.


I screamed as loud as I could into the Loch.


God it was good!


Not as good as weak at the knees sex mind you, but it will keep me going for a while.


Re-energized, I continued on. It didn’t last, about a half hour later I was almost a cripple. The pains had hit their peak. I was hobbling noticeably, and had been reduced to sit down’s every ten minutes. To look at me you would have assumed I needed to do a shit...really, really bad.


When I finally reached the main road the elation was amazing. This meant I was close to Drumnadrochit, close to a bed. I knew it wasn’t over yet. One part of the plan I hadn’t sorted out was a place to sleep. The sleeping bag had been an early option, but by halfway the thought of a comfy bed was a big part of the drive forward. A few hundred meters along the footpath brought another rest. I had run out of water about an hour before, and was pretty thirsty by this stage. The last half mile or so saw more rest. I’m pretty sure I only made it 10 meters between them at one stage.


Then I saw it.


Drumnadrochit Hotel! That place looked fucking fantastic through my eyes. I hobbled inside, threw myself on a bar stool and ordered a glass of water. That was quickly followed by a beer. Smiling, knowing the magnitude of my achievement - to myself if no one else - I asked the bar wench a question.

‘How much for a room?’

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So, 8 1/2 hours and some pretty fucking amazing scenery equalled one awesome nights sleep, and some sore legs for the rest of the week.


In all honesty it was an awesome thing to have done, and I wouldn’t take the experience back for anything.

Even if the bus ride back only took half an hour...