TGO Challenge – Disaster Looms

Today, after a good breakfast at the Dalwhinnie Hotel, I was followed for quite a way by both a lurking suspicion and a nagging doubt.

I walked along by the aqueduct thingy, which gets  a bit dull after a while, and then up the zig-zags over to Gaick. (Which one is the zig and which one is the zag?)

I began shadowing Mike and Marion Parsons. We occasionally met and sometimes passed each other.

I descended quite steeply to Gaick Lodge, paddled the beck and had a brew.

Later, I altered the route a bit to go somewhat North of my intended to climb up a heathery, rocky path which is where, as far as the camera is concerned, it all went badly wrong.

I never take the camera from around my neck. It even has a fail-safe-impossible-to-drop-the-camera system of lines and knots. But I took it off. I was about to take a picture of a particularly fine waterfall when I noticed my camera rolling past down the hill at increasing speed to a rather unimpressive plop into a deep, refreshingly green , clear, effervescent pool of superb Highland water. It was cold and delicious but it had wounded the camera critically. The screen was blank. There was no pulse. Bugger.

I continued, past an outrageously steep and dangerous landslip, which I outflanked by climbing up the hill, and, after a bit of peat bog and snow and I found a beautiful campsite on the site of some ancient shielings. I camped in the foundations of one. I had a word with the spirits of whoever was hanging around and there was no overnight trouble.

The pic below is courtesy of Mike and Marion Parsons

But make no mistake, they were there - were women (girls, really) and children, cosy in their little booths, crooning the tanned and dirty little weans to sleep. A bit hungry but happy.

We all slept well.

This is the end of the illustrated stuff. If there’s any more, it will depend on the generosity of other Challengers.

Or I could just write a story

This is the last picture.

An Appeal

Above is a picture of Meanie, one of our cats. Meanie likes to sleep in different places at different times of day or night. She doesn’t go out much as she is frightened of clouds, wind, sparrows, aircraft, ice cream vans, sudden noises, not sudden noises and shadows of trees.

The point about all this is, that this picture was taken by my camera just today. Its not quite right yet, and may never be, but it takes pictures. Which is good, because tomorrow, normal walking service will be resumed and I need a camera.

Which brings me to the appeal.

I’m about to write the last illustrated blogpost of my tenth TGO Challenge crossing (Have I mentioned that it was my tenth previously??) And , after the next one, I have no pictures.

So, the appeal is for spare pictures of the TGO Challenge

They need to be JPEGs about 1000x750 wotsits and be vaguely connected with the following route:

Minigaig

Leathad an Taobhain

Beinn Bhreac

Very Upper River Feshie

Geldie

Mar Lodge

Braemar (unfocused shots welcome)

Bill and Stans

Carn an Tuirc

Cairn of Claise

Tom Buidhe

Mayar

Glen Prosen

Kirriemuir

Forfar

Lethem

Friokheim

Scurdie Ness

Park (hic) Hotel

Montrose campsite.

If they are from the 2010 challenge, all the better. If not, its probably not absolutely necessary.

There will be no compensation, apart from my eternal gratitude and a bit of positive karma. I will, of course, thank you publicly and embarrasingly profusely in an ‘umble , slightly creepy kind of way….

My email address can be got from my profile on this very blog.

 

TGO Challenge nearing the end (of the pictures)

Day N. (fill in the number as appropriate. Please use black ink) It was driech and drab and not a time for wandering about in the mizzle, so I opted for the shoreline path to Dalwhinnie. My vetter said that this was a little exposed for a few steps.
Hah!
The path starts off well enough and then gradually becomes more tilted till there are heather patches with nothing much underneath. Luckily I noticed these. As the slabs encroached, i formed the view that if I was going to fall off anything, I could make it a lot less painful by traversing along at the actual shore level, thus reducing any impacts and bounces considerably, as well as the size of the splash.

This worked well for about fifty metres till I was faced with what can only be described as a crag. It was a crag. i could go back and brave the tilted slabs and bottomless heathery bits, and probably fall to a horrible death, or I could take the diretisssima and risk a backwards fall onto my gas supply which should explode in a ball of flames and attract the attention of any passing walkers. At least that might make the papers.
So I climbed up. the holds were reassuringly big and, generally speaking, roughly in the right places. There was the odd moment of doubt and reflection on a life wasted wandering the hills and not drinking beer all the time. But in the end, I made it and carried on, shaking a bit in the leg department.

After a while I was caught up by John Enoch, who later admitted to watching me climb the climb and decided on a very high level alternative where a plummet to a horrible dismemberment and subsequent helpless drowning whilst freezing to death and completely sober to boot, was less likely.
We occasionally coincided along the path, which, after the excitements was quite pleasant.

Soon, I came to Neverland. – Ben Alder Lodge – an unlikely collection of fairy towers and pretty buildings. Clearly the architect was no older than age 6. One house had its own garden stag.
After that the road is dull and just goes on and on till the industrial village of Dalwhinnie is reached. very nice pylons they have and a rather interesting dam wall.

The bunkhouse/cafe by the station was an oasis full of grazing Challengers – Russ, John, Maggie. I had tea and beer and beef stew. It was all rather good.
Later, I camped at the hotel and had a bit of a boozy night.
It was all right.

Last episode as told by the photos will appear quite shortly, after a short interval during which I will be paying a short visit to Crook’s renowned boozerama….
I’m trying to forget Kylie after that naughty video…..

TGO - Its Just Another Day

Continuing with our theme of using old pop song titles to illustrate the first half of my TGO journey (Did I mention it was my tenth crossing by the way?)…

I rose bright and early, had a wee and went back to bed for a couple of hours.

Later, I set off towards Loch Ossian, encountering various non-TGO schoolkid- type campers and Dutch TGO-ers Peter and George on the way.

Several “Young People” were seen to be jogging around Loch Ossian. Some were in a bit of a state. Some were ambling. Several appeared to be on the point of collapse. A few said “hello”; most didn’t appear to notice me at all.

Loch Ossian came and went and I wandered along by the Uisge Labhair, pausing only for a hurried half hour snooze and a paddle in the screachingly cold water, resolving never to do that sort of thing ever again.

The steep little transfer from the beck…er…burn to the path to Ben Alder Cottage was just like back home in the North Pennines and the well engineered and maintained path down to the cottage was a pedestrian’s delight.

Ben Alder cottage was occupied by TGO-ers Alan, Tom and Chris and I camped on a nice flat bit just over the burn..er..beck. A lovely spot and no chance of ghosties.

A bit later, four canoes full of mowhawks came around the headland and I had to form my akto into a circle and use the spitoon.

Actually, they turned out to be a load of kids from North Cumbria University (Penrith) – aka Penrith technical college on an “expedition”

Eventually they sorted themselves out camping spots and arranged themselves around a campfire. I was very pleased to hear one of the young ladies say “Lets have a game of strip poker”. I settled down in the shelter of the akto to watch.

Nothing happened so I went to sleep where I was walking down this street, see and came across Kylie lounging on a pile of people in their undies. What’s the chance of that, eh?

Oh Kylie, how could you?

So this is what's she's been up to. Always the last to find out...
 Bugger - its been deleted. Such are the pleasures of life - here today, gone tomorrow......