What goes up must hopefully go down (please?)
Monday 8 October
I’ve done some tough days of walking, but that takes the cake. We finished 25 km in mist and light rain, with a feeling of achievement but a suspicion that Everest Base Camp might have been easier. Perhaps I should have done Kilimanjaro after all.
We certainly couldn’t complain about the views. By the time we had slogged up the path, which zig-zagged up a 45 degree slope, we were rewarded with glimpses across the loch. However, the 40 minutes of climbing with packs induced hypoxia so bad that even Paula couldn’t swear! Where were the sherpas when you need them?
Along the edge of the moor, we had proper woods on one side and the open ground on the other. The one thing we have missed so far has been wild-life, the score being limited to red squirrels, lots of small birds around feeders, one red kite and the grouse (not famous) that seemed to wander in and out of Invermoriston at will. A sight of red deer would have soothed the weary feet, but we had to make do with several piles of deer shit.
There were some lighter moments between the slog (to put that in perspective, most of me was completely dry but my base-layer was soaked with sweat). We found a troll bridge and Paula bravely stood in the middle and tempted the monster.
How she manages to look so good in dry pants I’ll never know – a Berghaus pinup girl.
For a couple of hours we were walking in the mist, which made the wooden picture frame at the top of the walk a bit of a joke. However, we made the effort and got a selfie in that was a bit more respectable.
We were absolutely done when we arrived at Drumnadrochit, and – as usual – the B and B was on the other side of the village. Thank the good Lord, not only did it have a bath in our room (unheard of luxury) but there was a shuttle across the valley to the pub where we were having dinner. As always, the distance is never really the issue: it’s the climb and the terrain that leaves you feeling like you’ve done the London Marathon in hiking boots. The colours of the Highlands in autumn, however, make it more than worthwhile.
