Except to say that I walked from Glenelg to Johnshaven (after walking first from Glen Shiel to Glenelg) and this was my route, with all the relevant route statistics and brief notes if anything happened.
Day -1
Camped by the fancy memorial on the coast at Glenelg - nicely sheltered by a ruined building. Fresh water nearby. Fresh beer a bit further. Thunderstorms and windiness. Lots of Challengers in the pub and a grand time was had.
Day 1
Glenelg to Glean Dubh Lochan.
12 miles, 2700 feet ascent.
Bagged Beinn na Caorach - a liddle Corbett. It rained and snowed a fair amount. Crossed one river three times as the first time I left me boots on the other side. So I had to go back. Very cold water, as it happens, ta for asking. Wild camp by the river. Barbara and Peter camped nearby. And somebody else - no idea who it was.
Day 2
Gleann Dubh Lochan to Alltbeithe (Not that Alltbeithe, a different one).
13 miles, 2100 feet ascent
In the morning, I followed a trail of slug snot down the tent wall and on to my rucksack/pillow - where there was a gap. The trail continued from the other side of the rucksack, up the groundsheet and out of the tent door. I noticed that the gap of snotless fabric was the same width as my forehead which, on examination by reflection in my spoon, was a bit sticky in parts... I determined to wash this off as soon as possible. Probably by the end of the week, at least.
I noticed another slug at the tent door. This was a King slug. Probably a Royal Black. He was huge and black and magnificent. He was rocking gently from side to side in a pre-attack warning behaviour mode. He was obviously enraged at the treatment of one of his concubines and was about to charge, his little black horns waving about in a furious display of anger... He became even more annoyed when I poked him with a bit of grass I'd removed from my coffee. I had but a few hours to get out of there before the full force of his attack fell on my camp.
The rest of the day was river crossings, heavy and very wet showers. I lost me packet of dried fruit but retraced steps and found it... Walked on and off with Barbara and Peter. The café at Kinloch Hourn was closed (out for lunch...).
Passed by Loch Quoich where I was offered a lift. I don't believe the chap understood why I refused it. Wild camp near Alltbeithe. Some people spent the night in a shed. They could have been Challengers. I don't think they knew I was close by. I could have had it away with their Mars Bars in the middle of the night and become a tale of a haunting... oooer...
Day 3
Alltbeithe to Tomdoun
11 Miles, 1500 feet ascent.
Nice, sunny day. River crossings much easier. Fell over a few times and got a bit lost in some scrubby heathery stuff...
Camped near the hotel. Lots of challengers there. Maggie Hems on her tenth was there. I suspect that she might not have been quite sober May have over-indulged a bit myself...
Day 4
Tomdoun to Loch Lundie
17 Miles, 1150 feet ascent.
Beautiful sunny and still weather. Got bloody lost again in the piggin forest but the unscheduled waterfalls and pools were very nice. Got to the pub at Invergarry and had beer. More Challengers turned up. Maggie Hems was there too. Seems to like pubs... Retraced me steps through Faichem where a campervanner chappie recommended a wild camping spot. Failed to find it, but what I did find was grand. Had to eject some sheep. Found raisins in the grass, but they weren't very tasty.
Wild camp on a little nobble. Near Loch Lundie
Day 5
Loch Lundie to Blackburn ... not that Blackburn, idiot.
15 miles, 2000 feet ascent.
Turned left at Whalley of the A59 and entered Blackburn... justaminittt...
Started off in the wrong direction for nearly a mile. The map and the ground/view became increasingly out of sync. Got back on the right track and after another hour or so I got lost again. I overshot a bridge that wasn't there anymore. Then I overshot it going the other way. Then I did some jungly stuff and found a track. I would never make the east coast at this rate. Got dislocated again in the bloody trees and eventually found myself in a lounge bar in Fort Augustus where I dismembered a Chicken Alba. And a few pints of Loopy McJuice.
Eventually struggled up to Blackburn hut where two MBA members were clearly sick of the sight of each other, but gave me a whisky nevertheless. One barricaded the door as the other took the dog for a walk. There was niggling. They weren't married or anything. Wild camp nearby.
Day 6
Blackburn to Dubh Lochan
14 Miles, 3150 feet ascent.
Fab walk in sunny but windy weather - bagged Corrieyairack Hill, Gairbeinn, Meall na h-Airse and Carn Odhar na Criche. These are Corbetts and Not Corbetts. I followed a route which was, more or less, a straight line. This was fab walking in great weather. Wild camped on a bit of a tilt. It got very windy. Noted that I hadn't got lost at all today and felt a bit smug. I am now much further East than I was before.
Day 7
Dubh Lochan to Newtonmore.
15 Miles, 1650 feet ascent.
Bagged the Carn Ban / Carn Dearg Munros and a few other rounded mossy hills in a fierce headwind. Got knackered, frankly.
Bunkhouse in Newtonmore with Challengers Steve and Tony who were "ensconced" on chairs with bottles of delicious-looking brown frothy stuff.
Had a shower. Didn't get lost till I got to Newtonmore main street. Rang home. The wife was still there, though I think she said she'd eaten the dog. It was quite a bad line and there was a bus going past. Bought stuff at the shop and retired to the hostel with some junkies. Got ever so slightly junk, so went to bed.
It was a bed. A real bed, thing. Like they have. You know, the kind of thing... Springs and pillows and a mattress...
Day 8 Newtonmore to Glen Feshie
16 Miles, 1150 feet ascent.
The weather broke and it rained, on and off and got very windy. In view of the sudden change to horrible weather, I changed my route to the Foul Weather Alternative. Turned out to be a good call, 'cos the weather was, indeed, pretty foul for the next few days, on and off - mainly on, but a bit of off as well, sometimes.
Walked with Graham from Alford or similar...
We brewed and walked and crossed the rickety bridge and called in at that unpronounceable bothy in Glen Feshie - Rudie Allan or something. There were lots of people there sitting about having conversations concerning Challenge Stuff.
Wild camped with Graham at the top of Glen Feshie in a bit of a storm. Had a bit of a buffeting for a while, then, as Mr Bladder called for me to have a look outside, it sort of stopped.
Day 9
Glen Feshie to Mar Lodge.
17 Miles, 650 feet ascent.
It rained. A lot. I walked with lots of Challengers. It's a Challenge motorway.
I have to say, that once out of Glen Feshie, this is a bit, well, Pennine, I suppose. It's a bit dull and it was raining at times too.
Me and Graham and a doctor from Wales plodded towards Braemar. Stayed at Mar Lodge with lots and lots of other Challengers.
They had special beds. These beds had specially linen sheets. They had special baths which were deep and hot. They had a special fireplace with special logs in it. They specially got some beer and wine and cooked a special venison casserole.
Everything, in fact, was special.
I stopped smelling like a yak-herder's incontinent Uncle Vlad for a while.
Day 10
Mar Lodge to Gelder Shiel
14 Miles - 1050 feet ascent.
Not too bad today. Had a really really nice sausage and chips in Braemar, a couple of pints then on to Gelder Shiel. More Challengers in, cluding the ubiquitous Steve and Tony and Barbara on her tenth crossing with her group that had her tucked in cosy in the bothy. I camped outside with Lilo and Tony and Steve. Quite a nice night, as it happens.
Day 11
Gelder Shiel to Stables of Lee.
14 Miles - 2650 feet ascent.
It chucked it down all day. It was just like this the last time I was here with my sproglets Rachel and James. I don't believe Rachel was too impressed...
I bagged Conachraig (Corbett) on the way. Machine coffees at Loch Muick then up to Shielin of Mark with Anna, a Polish Challenger with an enormous pack. The weather just got worse and worse.
After some indecision, during which Barbara was tucked in at the bothy again, joined by some more Challengers, we crossed the raging river and sploshed over the moors to Stables of Lee.
Weird Darren appeared suddenly in a wakening light (well, he is Weird Darren). We tried to light a horseshit fire, and discovered in the morning that, in fact, we had been successful.
Anna tidied up and organised the accommodation... Slept on hay. Comfy but a bit insectivorous. And, you know, sleeping in a stable reminds us of... Oh no - I'll leave that one to Dave Albon.
Day 12
Stables of Lee to Tarfside
9 Miles - 200 feet ascent.
Put out the fire. It was substantially downhill, in fact, today. Quite pretty, really... Tarfside was its usual gregarious self. Various people were limping around. The ladies at St Drostans were doing their usual stuff and making copious records. I wonder what they do with the data...? Becky visited with beer and socks. Had a bit of a do at the Mason's Arms. Croydon's Old Man is a dustman, apparently, evidenced by the fact that he wears a dustman's hat and wears gor blimey trousers.
My trousers were quite Gor Blimey by this point in the walk, in point of fact, but I didn't have the hat.
Slept well...
Day 13
Tarfside to Fettercairn.
15 miles - 1750 feet ascent.
Walked much of today with Peter from Holland - over the moors... Met a ghillie covered in blood. When asked why he just said "hillwalkers..." Toured the Fettercairn distillery and bought a miniature Jura for Johnshaven. Later - when they eventually decided to open the doors, the Ramsay Arms Hotel at Fettercairn - more clean sheets, showers, good food... and some new-fangled Bed things.
Day 14
Fettercairn to Johnshaven
16 miles - 900 feet ascent.
Mainly lane walking. Intended passage on "white" roads proved impossible due to overgrowth. Bagged a cup of very strong coffee at the coffee shop called "Muffins", I think, in Laurencekirk and shortly afterwards, whilst being chased by a large bull, also bagged Garvock Hill with its strange "thingy" on the top. The pub at Johnshaven was very friendly. I might have missed a bus or two.
The usual orgy of camping, eating, drinking and sleeping in Montrose followed.
Then I went home.
The dog was still there. Couldn't see the cat, though.
The end.
I'd do it again...
