Light rain showers were passing across my tent as I woke, the flysheet flapping slightly. Last night I had listened to, what I assume were deer, cropping the grass near my tent, one of them barking intermittently. A promise to myself of a coffee and cake at Kinlochewe this afternoon made me stir from the warmth of my sleeping bag. Damp yesterday when I wriggled into it, by morning the warmth of my body had dried it out and it was now a cosy cocoon. Outside I found myself in a cloud. After packing I continued to struggle on pathless terrain, over rocks fallen from the hillside, now half covered with grass and moss hiding gaps in which I could further damage my already painful knee. Crossing an uneven area of lochans, moss, rocks and mounds I reached the other side of the pass. Locating a promised path in the mist thanks to my GPS I started down. Paths are depressions in the ground that collect water, and this one had collected a lot so that I was constantly moving to one or other side of it. Reaching a river, now below the clouds, I reached the first highlight of my day, a wire bridge. Actually a thin wire on which to put your feet and a rope to hang onto with your hands. Provided I lent slightly forward with my arms outstretched, it was surprisingly easy. As the water was not far below it was not especially frightening.
The next section was on a good track for which I was thankful. However I was struggling with the pain in my left knee, which felt curiously unhinged. Steeper downhill sections were a particular challenge as my knee had a restricted range of movement and limited strength. For these reasons, plus my general state of tiredness, a bootlace unravelling and a few blisters starting to reappear since my boots and socks were constantly wet, I decided it was silly to continue beyond Kinlochewe, my destination for the day. I was walking for enjoyment not as a masochistic, endurance exercise in remote areas with no cellphone coverage should I terminally damage something due to exhaustion.
I walked on by trees, a pleasant change. A trickle of people were on the track, some walking their dogs, a sign I was approaching civilisation, or a tiny piece of it; a few houses, a railway line and a main road at a place called Craig. Then it was up to the next pass on the "Old Pony Track". Steep, narrow and overgrown in places, not used by ponies these days. Fortunately near the top my route joined a forestry track, levelled out and started a long descent into a broad valley. The way ahead was spread out before me. A white track winding down from the moors into a basin with stands of pine trees, some with a shape reminiscent of cedars, then up again over the next ridge in the far distance. On the way I encountered: a lively river, splashing over boulders, building up foam; a small hydroelectric plant (becoming common in the area); the inevitable loch, and a few estate houses.
After crossing that final ridge, wanting a flatter surface to spare my knee I walked down to a single track road. Busy with traffic, vehicles were slowed by the need to use passing spaces on meeting oncoming cars. There was a restaurant as I approached Kinlochewe where I enjoyed a late lunch. More upmarket than I would expect for such a small village, I enjoyed haddock served on leeks, with a poached egg and vegetables which had a fennel twist. Over coffee I researched my way home. "Trainline" claimed possible trains home from Inverness were either sold out or a high price, so I booked a cheaper option, a flight from Inverness to Bristol. I just needed to get to Inverness tomorrow morning.
No comments:
Post a Comment