23^rd Sept 2014

The doorway to the bothy was particularly small and even though I'd slung my pack on to carry it inside I simply couldn't fit. I had to take my pack off and literally drag it through. Inside the cottage had been partitioned into a living area, sleeping area and kitchen area. There was no running water, gas or electricity which was to be expected being that the bothy was in such a remote area. Breaking up the driftwoid I'd found and splitting bits using a small axe I'd found to make kindling I got a fure going and fed tge flames by breaking up some dried peat that had been left by the fireplace. I then went into the kitchen to have a good rummage round to find candles and anything else I could use whilst staying in the cottage. On a shelf somebody had left a tin of beans and some noodles. I decided I'd have the beans that night and use the noodles for breakfast. Afterall eating something was better than nothing at all.

Now slightly nourished i had a look round in the living room at the unusual paintings on the walls and the photographs of an elderly gentleman with a big white fluffy beard. Sandy was an astrologer who had adopted the bothy as his home. It is believed that this was last house to be lived in permanently in Scotland without any services which meant no gas, electricity, phone ir postal service. There wasn't even a track or road leading to the cottage let alone a proper path leading to the front door. 1996 he moved out and into a caracan park nearby and died 20th Apr 1999 aged 73. After having my little break and a coffee I headed into the bedroom and climbed into my sleeping bag. During the night I was woken by a strange gnawing sound. Mice or rats obviously lived in the bothy too and they were chewing on the makeshift bench I was calling "bed". Asking them politely to stop they ignored me and continued so I buried my self under my sleeping bag and tried to ignore them.

The following morning I got up and made myself the noodles for breakfast. Gathering my gear together I set off for the tallest hill I could find to see if I could get a signal on my phone and check in with my followers. Crossing the marsh and reaching the top the view was magnificent but I still had no signal. I could see Sandwood beach and its adjoining loch about a mile or so away so began my descent towards the river I'd followed up to the bothy and made my way down to the beach. At the bottom of the slope from the cliffs ran a fairly wide river that trickled over scattered rocks. Once again i playing stepping stones and not wanting to get my boots anymore wet than they were already hoped from one boulder to the next planning my route as I went. Once on the far side I decided to head up to a nice view point behind the dunes over looking the loch to hydrate myself a breakfast ration. I didn't know when or in fact if I'd have anymore supplies from this point on as barbaras sponsored rations were the last and if that was the case I needed to make sure I didn't eat the packs too quickly, eating something each day was better than having nothing at all which would very possibly be the case.

While sat on top of the rocky viewpoint enjoying my breakfast a man who had camped just out of sight of me wandered into view. He too was eating although I think it was probably his lunch as the time was most definitely approaching midday. I called over and we began chatting. Leaving my gear but still chomping away at my breakfast I headed over so as I didn't need to holler across the dunes but instead have a civilised conversation. I think his name was steve but I must admit I forgot to maje a note before I left. Fascinated by the challenge steve took my photo and made us a mug of coffee. "Do you like cheese?" He said. Cheese is just one of those luxuries you have to leave behind when on a lobg distance endurance trip like the trek, unable to keep it cool and allowing it to spoil cheese soon starts to smell and go off. Handing me a huge lump of cheese and half a malt loaf we chatted some more and enjoyed the improptu mslt loaf and cheese picnic in the glorious sunshine and in an area of unpresidented natural beauty. Before I set off once again on my challenge Steve handed me a bag of toffees, "this should keep you going" he said. Stev then grabbed his camera and headed off into the hills I'd just descended from while I grabbed my pack and headed down to the beach.

As i hiked along the soft sand towards the cliffs at the far end I passed three lads basking in the sun. They were out on a lads road trip taking in various beaches along the north coast. Once again I forgot to make a note of their names, I think the fact I'd switched to survival mode adjusted my priorities and although I knew how important keeping note of small facts like this was my priority was now to simply stay alive whilst completing the challenge and safely tackle the challenges ahead such as the cliffs I'd soon find myself scaling. None the less the lads were extremely friendly, offering me a hand full of sweets abd taking an interest in my stories and gleaming my insights into what I considered were the best beaches I'd come across, especially due to the fact they were heading the way I'd already hiked themselves. We must have chatted for at least an hour before I said my goodbyes and they decided to also climb the hills I'd descended from earlier to get a good picture of the beach before setting off to their next destination.

I carried on along the beach and met two couples, their other halves in sea satisfying their mid life crisis by body surfing the perfect waves. My pack was starting to feel heavy as I stood there chatting so I took it off and used it as a seat. As I continued to answer questions and talk about the little adventures, which I admit I never get bored of, I was handed a banana, a strawberry snack and a maple syrup biscuit. I ate the banana and put the other itemsin my pocket to eat later. Time was now moving on and I still had a very long and potentially difficult hike still ahead of me. Thanking the couples and wishing them the best on the rest of their holiday I picked up my bag ready to sling onto my back when the left shoulder strap buckle detached from the bag, the thread had completely come away. It was fairly disastrous but thankfully my pack had a set of secondary buckles. Rethreading the straps I was able to continue but in the back of mind on top of all my other worries I was now concerned for hiw long the pack would now last and whether or not it would last the entire trip. I hadn't allowed at all for replacing it should I need to thinking that of all the gear I'd brought with me my backpack would make it all the way round and cross the finish line in Southampton with me. I couldn't let this hinder my progress for the day though and began to set off towards the cliffs ahead, peering up to see if I could see a way that would take me to the clifftops and along to oldshoremore, the small coastal village I'd decided to stop at that night.

Beneath the cliffs a sand dune had formed that appeared to allow me to climb to the base of the cliffs where I could see a narrow trail leading up a slope towards a small dried out waterfall and over to another small and narrow trail that continued up to the top. I set off climbing the contours of the dune and onto the grassy slope. There were sheep grazing and as I approached them they turned and headed along the trail and in the direction I was heading. As they ascended I watched them closely. If they could make it up then I surely should be able to follow.

The trail twisted its way around cliff face and up to the waterfall as I had expected it to. On the other side of the waterfall a very clearly trodden trail continued along the route I'd plotted in my head winding its way to the very top of the cliffs. The view looking down over Sandwood beach was fantastic, the yellow sand curving round the bay with large waves rolling up onto the shore and the dunes separating the enormous loch behind. Seeing the beach from a birds eye on such a lovely sunny day was spectacular and a moment I will probably never forget. Down to my left and just around the headland there was an unusual rock stack standing proud and solid from the ocean waters. I'd seen it from the beach but now that I was stood closer and looking down upon it the colossal formation looked extremely fascinating. As I walked along the cliffs I found myself stopping every so often to admire the stack until eventually it disappeared out of sight.

Before me lay a crinkled rugged coastline that was surely going to challenge my abilities and stamina. With my goal firmly set in my mind and a little doubt that I'd reach it before nightfall I left the stacks behind but still clear in my memories and headed across the grass and heather along the cliffs. Reaching a near vertical slope and had to turn slightly inland and make my way down and around the next peak through a small valley. As I walked along the sides I came upon a small round loch surrounded by tall ferns. Across the loch from me I saw a small patch of short green grass with an unusual stone structure shaped into a circle, it looked like a round stone pen, the type you'd expect to keep livestock in although generally I guess they would be square or rectangular in shape.

24^th Sept 2014

Heading away from the strange circular stone wall I headed up a slight incline to get me over the crest. Upon getting to the top I spotted a few houses in the distance and the terrain ahead looking, well, smaller than I'd just experienced and nothing like I'd expected. I headed down from the crest and into the village. It was an odd feeling coming across a small community after spending time hiking across cape wrath and then suddenly finding myself amongst these homes among the hills. I made my way down to the waters edge and up into the hills once more, a mere fleeting experience. It wasn't long before I then emerged into the next bay. The light was fading and I found it difficult to determine a path up into the hills on the far side so opted to follow the road around and towards oldshoremore about a mile away. Crossing the bridge I took the next right which took me to the burial ground overlooking the sea and up to the view point where a family were camped, I could hear the father talking to his daughter, making her laugh. Not to impose I found a sheltered piece of grass a little further along on the headland behind a huge rock. The wind was blowing over and around it and the waves crashing like thunder roaring against the shore below. It was now completely dark and I could only just make out the shape of the beach below. I set up camp and settled in. The temperature had dropped quite considerably and I found it difficult at first to get comfortable but eventually fell asleep.

In the morning the sun was out and the day began like it was midsummer. The water in the bay was crystal clear and the view of the beach was to be frank, perfect. After packing my gear away I headed off around the headland and down to a small river below. I paddled across over the stones to the other side and made my way up onto the grassy banks and up into the hills once more. Standing on top I looked back and saw a small group of twitchers, binoculars and cameras in hand watching the birds and wildlife with great intent. Now ahead of me was an intimidating rocky wall. I had to make the decision to head back towards the village and try to find a way round or to tackle the cliff face and climb over. Both the rock surface and grass were dry and on the face of things looked possible to climb so I thought I'd have a go. I began to make my ascent up the rocks and with good foot holds and hand holds made it to the first shelf I then picked my next route but found the pink granite too slippery for my hiking boots to grip. I moved along the shelf looking for another way, avoiding any granite and began my second pitch. As I made my way half way up and heading for the ridge it became apparent that where my straps had broken on Sandwood beach and I'd moved them to the secondary buckles the packs weight had been shifted up and my center of gravity was now much higher. It was going to take time to adjust to this new configuration as I'd become so used to where it had been. Even though the buckles were only an inch or so lower the difference was very noticeable. Reaching the top I then realised the implications of what could have happened if the strap had broken whilst I was making a climb like that. It could have been quite a disastrous outcome possibly even fatal. Thanking fate for allowing the strap to break before I headed off through the hills, Kinlochbervie a few miles ahead of me. As I hiked I began to think about my mortality and the fact that I had now received my final supply box. No one had sponsored anymore food and if I didn't find anything of substance over the next week or so then it was entirely possible I'd not be able to finish the trek but would probably find myself too weak to continue and having to hold up somewhere and either snare rabbits or hope that I could catch some fish.

With these new problems on my mind I continued to climb higher into the hills and found myself looking across the water from the headland at the coast ahead of me. The weather was absolutely perfect and I could see for miles and miles. It was probably the most spectacular view I had ever seen. Sat gazing at the craggy, crinkly coastline I couldn't stop wondering how long before the trek became a fight for survival and my priorities would have to change, no longer simply hiking, climbing or paddling.

After my break I decided I should continue on and not worry about anything other than my immediate task which was to get to Kinlochbervie where I knew I would find a shop and be able to get a few supplies to last me at least a few days. On top of one of tge hills ahead I could see a mobile phone antenna and felt sure the town wouldn't be that much further. I made my way down from my personal and private view point and eventually made my way over the final hill and headed down towards the village. The village was considerably smaller than I had expected and the houses were quite sparsely dotted about the hillsides and between the two harbours. Passing through a field I found myself on somebodies driveway along the sides hedges of blackberries. It was a strangely pleasant sight. Walking along the tarmac I gathered as many of the ripe berries as I could and filling my mouth up until I could fit no more in. The cool sweet liquid covering my taste buds and the small seeds crunching between my teeth was an almost heavenly experience. Almost immediately I felt rehydrated and the sugars giving me a boost of energy.

At the bottom of the driveway I found myself at a quaint little harbour with a small picnic area. There was a couple sat eating there lunch and looking at a map, planning the rest of their holiday. They were from Australia and had hired a camper van to give them a freedom you simply can't get if you stay in hotels or bed n breakfasts. They began chatting to me about how they used to live in Scotland but had emigrated some years ago and were now back on holiday reminiscing about their childhood. Before leaving they handed me some money and told me to buy myself a meal at the hotel that night and they'd probably see me up there. It was quite unexpected but I thankfully accepted and began to set up camp. I was intending to stop in the village two nights as I knew I would be getting my next meager budget two days later on the Tuesday as I normally did. I then headed up to the hotel and ordered steak and chips. I'd been thinking about steak and chips for a few days now and had really begun to miss it. Hoping the couple would pop by I charged my phone and uploaded my photos and videos. That night my muscles were really aching and I found it difficult to settle down and get to sleep.

The next morning I woke and once again the sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky. I wandered down to the shop with the money I had left and bought a box of cereal and a pint of milk. I hadn't had cereal for months and figured that seeing as I was stopping for another night I would treat myself and my body. While sat at the picnic bench a whippet bounded over shortly followed by an elderly gentleman. With a very strong Yorkshire accent the gentleman called to his dog "lady! Stop bothering that man!". The whippet was harmless enough I think the gentleman was lonely. He walked over and began to speak I a slow and quiet tone about his dog and how he loved Scotland and the views but that he now wanted to move because nothing much happens and how he liked to go for long drives. I listened intently and kept an eye on lady who was attempting to climb into my tent. After a good long chat the gentleman wandered off and I finished my second saucepan full of cereal.

I was just packing away my bits ready to head up to the hotel for a coffee and to continue writing ny blogs when lady walked down the road. I'd met her and her husband at the bar the night before. Mr and mrs killin had bought a plot of land in the village just up the road from the harbour and at the bottom of the hill from the hotel. A perfect little spot. They were staying in a caravan helping their neighbour build an extension and beginning to prepare their plot ready to build on. "We thought you'd moved on" she shouted across "fancy a coffee and ham roll". I was heading that way anyway and thought it would be a good way to start the day so thankfully accepted her invitation and followed her back up the road to meet her husband. We sat and chatted about the challenge and how they were planning to move up to the village once they'd built their new home. Finishing my roll and coffee I let the couple continue with their strimming and building preparations and headed up the hill opposite towards the hotel.

I ordered myself another coffee plugged my phone in and sat myself down next to an unlikely gentleman and two ladies. We began chatting and was told about their family and their history with Scotland. He spoke with a very posh English accent although to look at him you wouldn't have thought it. He was wearing tattered old clothes and a pair of wellingtons. At first glance he looked like a crofter. It tirns out that he was a direct descendant from one of the wright brothers. Not the ones that built and flew the first plane but the ones who helped plot the gunpowder attempt on parliament with guy fawkes. One of the brothers had been killed at his home during a last stand but the other had fled to the then lawless hills of the Highlands. Apparently the plan though would never have worked, for a start they hadn't bought enough gunpowder to do the job and scrimped on the quality buying the cheapest powder they could. Also the barrels they'd stored the gunpowder in were also cheap and weren't waterproof so when it was stored in their sellers waiting to be used it had absorbed they moisture from the air and turned into a gluby mush. It was a fascinating story.

Once they left I checked my Facebook notifications and had received a message from one of the treks followers, Oz, who had been inspired to get into his car and set off round the coast of Britain turning right at every junction until he met the sea and then turning left. He'd started in Lancashire and travelled 1600 miles and caught up with me. I messaged him back letting him know I was staying in Kinlochbervie for the day and would be great to meet him. A little later I received another message, he'd had to get his car fixed but he had now arrived in the village and had found my tent still pitched up at the harbour. I went outside to see if I could spot jim and his car and direct him to the hotel at the top of the hill.

It was great meeting with Oz and hearing of his little adventure which made alot more sense than mine. He'd covered a lot longer distance in a much shorter time, wild camping as he went and visiting all the places I had passed through. He was now heading south and would soon be entering England. Leaving me with a little box of goodies which included pasta, gas and water, Oz handed me some money to get a goid meal inside me. Steak two nights in a row, pure luxury. That evening I ordered my meal and continued to write up the weeks adventure I'd allow to lapse keen to bring everyone up to date that was following. While I tapped away on my phone another couple sat down beside me and we began chatting. It turns out that the gentleman was the vicar of amble, a town I had visited quite sometime before, he was an avid reader and fascinated about my plans for writing a book as suggested by the treks followers. Before leaving the vicars wife disappeared and reappeared with a can of jalfrezi curry and rice for me. It was a lovely gesture and it would make a lovely change from the freeze dried foods I'd been eating for the last few months. They then left the bar wishing me luck and I finished up my writing and headed back to the tent ready to tackle another day on the trek.

24^th Sept 2014

Mega blog!!

With all the best intentions of waking up early, around 8am I finally woke, switched on my phone and realised it was 10am. Oops. I jumped out of the tent and headed for the shop to get a pint of milk to finish off the box of cereal I'd bought the day before. Whilst munching away lady came bounding across the harbour to say goodbye, her owner following on behind. I'd had a nice rest in Kinlochbervie but had to make tracks so after a short natter and filling my belly I packed up and began the days trek wondering where I'd end up.

Before leaving Kinlochbervie I passed the house where mr and mrs killin had invited me in for a coffee and roll the day before just to say goodbye. They weren't there but Willy, the owner, was. They'd obviously told him about me and my little journey so when I walked through the gates he walked over shook my hand and immediately offered me a cuppa. You simply can't say no. Before I left Willy handed me a bag of chocolate chip cookies and a huge bag of coffee sachets to take with me. I was about to set off when mr and mrs killin turned up. They'd tracked down the local Scottish water board man to find out where the water mains ran across their plot of land next door. It was lovely to get to say goodbye before I left and mr killin suggested that I should look at crossing the loch to save me having to walk round. We asked willy if there was a beach I could land on when I got across. Looking surprised it became apparent he didn't believe I was actually carrying a boat in my pack. Now a believer he said I should be able to get in at the harbour and head for one of two stony beaches on the far side of the loch. Game on. Before I said my final goodbye willy handed me some cash and told me to buy myself a meal and a drink.

As I headed down from willys towards the harbour I looked across the loch, unable to see the other bank I decided to walk a little further along the edge of the loch until I was sure that I'd be able to get out and to see how far I'd have to paddle. I didn't need to walk far at all before seeing an excellent spot to launch from as well as the two beaches I'd been told about. It was going to be a relatively easy crossing, the tide appeared to be heading out which meant I'd be able to use it to help take me across. As I unpacked hoolley I kept one eye on the water and the other on the weather. It wasn't as clear as the day before with large heavy clouds blocking the sun and there was a fair gust blowing down between the tall rocky banks either side of the loch. Unphased I still believed the crossing was a feasible option so stowing my kit I set off. Paddling slightly into the tide I found the small waves easy to negotiate and the wind a minor inconvenience. About halfway across I started to wonder if I'd misjudged the current as it didn't seem to be pulling me across as I had anticipated. So nearing the far side of the loch I had to turn and begin to paddle towards the first beach. The banks gradually swept round into a small protected bay and out of the wind with no apparent currents to fight against I was able to relax and land on the opposite side. As I approached the beach I spotted a couple of sheep grazing which by all accounts was a good sign, after all they'd got there somehow which meant a way forward for me was guaranteed. All in all the short paddle was considerably less drama than I'd been used on many other occasions. The sun had now broken through the clouds and shone down on me as I untied my gear and packed hoolley away, praising her as I did. She truly is a remarkable little boat and in my opinion deserves a medal or possibly a rosette.

With my pack on my back it was time once again for me to set off into the wild. I left the stony beach and headed for the fern covered hills to seek out the trail the sheep had made coming down. It wasn't difficult to spot so I followed the trail up into the hills and down the other side. Coming down I could see a large loch ahead and as I walked round, still following the trail, I noticed small isolated cottage on the far side in among some trees and opposite the mouth of the loch. It was really quite unexpected. I wondered if it was a fishing bothy or maybe someone's summer home. There was no electricity pylons leading to it or discernable path. I headed down towards it and spotting a small wooden bridge crossed a small clear water stream. As I approached the cottage I could see that there was nobody home. I was intending to head up into the hills behind the cottage and needed to pass around it to get there. As I did I noticed a small sign on one of the doors. It read "this door is left open for your convenience". I had to take a look. I opened the door and went in. It was a small, outside bathroom, with a toilet, basin and mirror. I'd needed a shave for sometime now and figured that this must be some kind of sign telling me it was now time to shed some hair. Taking my razor out I happily removed my Robinson crusoe beard and sat on the bench outside to boil some water, make a coffee, have a cookie or two and enjoy the views.

I admit I was tempted to end the day right there and pitch up but I'd only walked a couple of miles and it was still early in the day. Reluctantly I grabbed my pack and set about tackling the mountainous terrain ahead of me. Leaving the peace and tranquillity of the cottage and it's loch behind me I climbed the rocky, heather covered hill that looked down on this beautifully isolated paradise following a trail sheep had trodden into the ground. On the other side I could now see the challenge that lay ahead. It was going to be a tough hike, navigating the hills and cliffs that surrounded me. There were no more trails to follow I'd simply have to make my own, occasionally plotting the route ahead but often only a mere few feet at a time hoping that what I would find beyond a crest or around a corner would lead me along the coast. Quite often I would loose sight of the Atlantic ocean safe only in the knowledge that it was simply obscured by a small mountain or un negotiable ridge. Feeling full of energy and with high spirits after my much needed rest day in Kinlochbervie I began to make some good ground. Light footed I tackled the heathers abd squidgy mosses, climbed the slopes and hiked round the hidden lochs between the rocks and mountains. All was going well, too well, then it happened. Whilst walking along a steep bank through the heathers and ferns, unable to see the ground below I stumbled into a large pothole. As I fell forward I felt my shin hit the side, my ankle bent and the zip off part to my left trouser leg rip. I simply couldn't believe it. Pulling myself out of the hole I checked for serious injuries which luckily there were none and then inspected the damage to the trousers. The seam stitching that attached the zip to the upper shorts had simply given up. There wasn't much I could do where I was so I decided to carry on and hope I had enough thread left in my sewing kit to make a repair. As the day progressed and the terrain became harder and more challenging the damage worsened. I stopped and pulled out my sewing kit and using a safety pin made a very temporary repair but later as I was climbing the side of a steep mountain cliff face even that gave up and bent. It then occurred to me that if my backpack strap had broken whilst making a similar climb it could have been literally fatal, sending me hurling to the rocks below. Feeling thankful that when my strap broke I was safely on a sandy beach I continued with my climb.

Reaching the top I had a great view of the coast as well as a huge loch. By not carrying or using maps on the challenge it is quite often the case that I simply do not know where I am or how close I am to any kind of civilisation. Even using Google earth it is very difficult to determine your position without switching the gps on, which I rarely do in order to conserve power. Finding the loch was a great landmark to find. I now knew that I'd have to either find a place to paddle across or walk along following the edge until I could get round it. I stopped to inspect the far side but was unable to see any where to land. The sun was getting lower in the sky and knowing I only had maybe a couple of hours of light left decided it was time to find somewhere to camp.

Looking along the loch I could see it was going to be extremely tough going and that I would have to use my skills as a climber to traverse some extremely steep rocky slopes. About a mile away though I could see two small rocky bays and a couple of nice levelish grassy areas that would be perfect for pitching my coffin. Upon arriving at the first bay I found a little stream and easy access to the bay below. The view was spectacular too overlooking the loch and the crinkly, mountainous terrain I'd have to tackle the following day. With my mind made up I took off my bag and immediately set about gathering driftwood from the shore to build a nice campfire. With the fire lit I pitched the coffin and taking the can of jalfrezi curry the vicars wife had given me made myself dinner. The water from the stream which trickled over a small waterfall was fairly clear not tinted brown from the peat as much of my water had been over the past week. Having a nice water supply, lovely campfire and watching the sun set over the horizon was a perfect way to end a difficult day.

Once the campfire had died out I decided to head to the tent to see what I could do about my damaged trouser leg. I'm no seamstress so I figured I'd have to do the best I could. Using the pins in my sewing kit I joined the two pieces together and began sewing with what little thread I had left hoping there'd be enough to go all the way round. It took a while but eventually I managed to join the bottom to the top. The following day would be the tester to see whether I'd done a good job and whether the fix would last until I got some more thread or better still some new trousers.

In the morning the skies were clear and the sun was beating on the tent. I boiled some water and half the chocolate cake oz had bought for me. It felt so wrong but tasted so good. Not wanting to waste the lovely weather I gathered myself together, put on my repaired trousers, the stitching seeming to hold, packed up the tent and made sure I'd left nothing behind. Taking one last look at the view I'd woken up to I set off following the planned route I'd decided on the day before. Reaching the top of the hill I was able to see further ahead and made a decision as to which ridge I would head next. Across from me was a very high rocky mountain, figuring that I should try and check in with my followers I descended down from my view point and hiked across the lowland plain beneath. On the far side I then made my way up to the peak and tried my phone. Amazingly I had a full signal so I pulled up Facebook and went on to let everyone know I was still ok. Whilst checking my notifications I noticed a message from artist and comedian bob may. He'd said that if I didn't get a move on before the Scottish people voted on their independence that I might have a problem getting back to England. To show I had it covered I got out my passport and took a quick selfie holding it up. I'd packed my passport before leaving Southampton as a joke unaware of the referendum that was now taking place. Unable to spend too much time on the phone due to the power consumption of connecting to the Internet I decided to carry on. I still had a fair way to go before I'd reach the next village and even further before I ran into a town.

Looking around from the peak the terrain looked even more daunting and looking across the loch to the otherside I wondered how close I would actually be able to get to the coast once I'd walked round. Plotting th the next section of the days hike, a mere quarter of a mile or so, I set off down from the top of the mini mountain and headed off again crossing the basin below. Reaching the far side I began to follow a sheep trail up the otherside, then I spotted another faint trail. This was different and certainly not made by any four legged beast. Only an extremely observant individual would have seen it. The long grass slightly bent over in patterns of two. It was a trail formed by a two legged creature, mankind. It had to lead somewhere so I opted to follow it till I reached the next crest.

At the top of the crest I looked down and around to see if I could work out where it was taking me. Below was a small loch, its still waters reflecting the landscape that surrounded it. Across from the loch I could see a small wooden shed and bench. Curious to investigate I set off following the trail around the loch until I came down to the structure. There was nobody around and the door was unlocked. I took my pack off and decided to enter. Inside was a large gas bottle and a box. Hung up on the wall to my left were several mugs and at the far end nails for hanging things each with a label. One label stood out from the rest "abseiling". I'd come across a climbers cabin and judging by the rocky faces around me I could see why they'd picked this particular spot. In the box I found abseil and climbing rope and a few other items.

The day had turned out to be a wonderful sunny day, barely a breeze and only a few small clouds. I decided I'd stop for a hot chocolate before setting off once more and took a solar panel and kit backup battery out of my bag to give it a quick booster charge. Unfortunately the trek had claimed its next victim, the connector for the battery had broken off inside and rendered the battery useless. I now had to rely solely on the power monkey for my power unless I could find a willing sponsor to replace it.

While sipping my mug of chocolate delight I gazed at the perfectly calm waters of the loch in front of me. One of the things I'd really wanted to do whilst on the trek was go swimming in a scottish loch. This seemed like to good an opportunity to pass up. Taking my clothes off I headed over to the waters edge and plunged in. It was a chilly shock to begin with as I panted for air but as I began swimming I began enjoying myself. It was lovely and cool and the water fresh. After swimming around for a bit I headed back towards the cabin feeling refreshed and clean. I then laid down on a wooden pallet to dry out and eat the remains of the chocolate cake I'd started that morning.

Once again I found myself wanting to stop there for the rest of the day, with my own private lake and in complete solitude. But with still several thousand miles to go and winter just around the corner I got dressed and grabbed my kit. Standing by the hut I scoped the area trying to establish how the climbers made there way from wherever it was they'd come from. Making out a faint trail in the grasses and among the heathers I set off. As I walked along following the signs of civilisation I began to wonder if they'd arrived by boat as it was impossible for a vehicle to get to where I was and there is absolutely no way any single or group of individuals could carry the materials to build a hut this far into the wilderness. Eventually, and not too far away I came across a small stony bay, the trail appearing to end there. Just as I'd suspected. I stopped and looked around. Surely it would be too much bringing a boat round each time they wanted a climb. It was a lovely climbing area but obviously it must have been frequented quite regularly for them to build a hut. I surmised the climberd must have to walk in a probably with students wanting to learn based on the number of mugs that had been hung on the wall. Looking around my suspicions where confirmed. Picking up another faint trail heading up over a small rocky crest I decided that it must be the way they usually made their way to the location. I set off following the trail. In places the trail appeared to vanish, covered by overgrown ferns but with a keen eye I was able to spot the tail tail signs of a path, sometimes heading up higher to get a better vantage point. After a while the trail became more and more apparent and the path wider until it was easy to follow.

Eventually the trail stopped beside a gate with high fences. A gravel pathway leading up to it from the left down from a steep climb. The gate and fence looked like it was surrounding a private woodland with the fence following a perimeter. I decided not to invade the owners privacy and began to follow the path up the hill and around a large loch. High on top of a small mountain I stopped to admire this new view, the mountainous terrain reflecting in the still waters below. It was simply breathtaking. Once again I checked my phone, yes I had a signal again. It was going to be tough, but not impossible to keep in touch with everyone while hiking the mountains of the west coast but a challenge I was happy to take. Keeping the loch to my right I left the path, which now appeared to be heading north, and set off towards a couple of remote houses that backed onto the waters edge. Climbing and traversing the steep hillsides and sheer, almost vertical, rock faces I slowly made my way around the loch to an empty farm building and ruined cottage. A road swept its way down between an un climbable rock gorge and lead to a small slipway and into the water. A small fast flowing stream seemed like an ideal place to stop for a bite to eat and to collect water for that evenings meal. I grabbed a packet of flavoured pasta that oz had given me and took a small break.

The sun was getting lower in the sky now and it was fast approaching 6pm so I decided it was getting near to tge time where I would need to set up camp. I also wanted to try and put a few more miles in before settling down for the night so I decided to follow the road up and through the gorge and down to the road it would invariably lead to. Sure enough about a mile later I came across a main road, occasionally cars would pass by heading for wherever it was they were going. Taking the right I hiked along the road that wound its way between numerous lochs. As I continued along the road I'd occasionally stop to pick the ripe blackberries that were easily accessible. Eventually I came to a huge loch with a river flowing into it. Ahead I could see a couple of small woodlands and decided I'd head for one of them and set up camp among the trees. Finding the bridge that crossed the river and reasonably level ground I made camp and climbed into my coffin.

It was 9am when I finally woke. Getting to sleep at night proving more and more difficult as time goes by. I decided to make a coffee write up my adventures the day before and try to catch up with the blogs I'd fallen behind in. Recalling the experiences as if they'd happened the day before I rattled off a fair amount, typing into my phone with obe the finger and reliving each step in my mind. It was nearing midday when I decided I needed to make a move and clock up a few more miles before nightfall. I packed up camp and set off to cross the bridge and head back to the coast. On the other side of the bridge was a small and narrow path following the river banks heading towards the rocky headland at the mouth of the loch. About 300 yards along I came across a small building that looked like a tiny bothy. Peering through the window I could see a table and a chair. Shelves hung from the back yellow painted wall, with empty wine bottles decoratively placed along them. The door was locked so I carried on my way having to plough through a blanket of ferns before finding myself back at the road I'd just left.

Knowing that the nearest village is a mere 5 miles down the road but by walking the coastline would probably take me a couple of days is a really overwhelming feeling and you begin to wonder how much longer it will actually take to make it back to the south coast.

About a mile or so along the road and looking across at the where I believed the sea loch to be I found an unused stony track running through the peat marsh and towards the rocky hills that sat on the edge of the water. Eager to leave the tarmac I set off. Although I had camped next to a river the night before I was unable to get any water to boil some pasta or rice for breakfast. I had munched on a couple of handfuls of blackberries while walking along the road which had kept my hunger and thirst at bay but i knew that wouldn't be enough to sustain me on the days trek. Among the hills I felt I had more chance of locating a spring or stream.

As I headed over to the shore line a thick and heavy mist began rolling in from the sea. Thats something you really don't need when hiking in such remote parts. The terrain was also becoming quite the opponent, soft and uneven underfoot with high rocky hills surrounding and ahead of me. The days progress was going to be slow and gradual. Not to be perturbed I continued, my goal was to reach the coast once again. Crossing the spongy moss covered marsh, climbing deer proof but not, this time, adam proof fences and hiking over rocky hills and grassy mounds. Imagine my surprise when I hit a road leading to laxford shellfish company.

Across from the company was a small bay and alongside the road running water. At last I'd found water the problem was I couldn't get to it as the stream with its multiple waterfalls were at the bottom of a deep ravine. I had no choice but to give in and begin to follow the road. Whilst hiking the tarmac trail I collected blackberries to at least satisfy my hunger and help keep me hydrated. A couple of miles along though I found the source of the stream I'd seen. Stopping and getting out my saucepan I headed down to collect the water and made up some golden vegetable rice and a cup of chicken cuppa soup. Now feeling considerably happier I set off continuing to follow the road until I either found a way back into the hills or the first turning that would take me to the coast.

A couple of miles later still unable to find a way into the hills I happened upon a junction that lead to the small hamlet of foindle. Still collecting black berries as I hiked I headed off to foindle. The single lane road wound its way between the rocky hills and mini mountains until I reached a small sumit where I could finally see the loch once more. Only a few more miles and I should be back near the coast.

Continuing along the road engulfed by rocky cliffs and towering mounds with little streams flowing over small waterfalls, the landscape looking like an iceberg had ploughed its way through several million years previously I ended up in the village of Tarbet. I say village, a couple of houses and a restaurant that was closed. It was getting chilly now unlike the warm evening I'd had the day before. I walked over to the bay that faced the sea, there were numerous small islands close to the shore with one large one sat a mile or so beyond them. Noticing a small brown sign I went to investigate. It pointed to a barely visible trail and claimed it was the path to Scourie. With only an hour or so of light left and to be honest a perfect little campsite on the low cliffs above the bay I decided I'd tackle the path in the morning.

Once again I had trouble getting to sleep, bizarre conversations going round in my head. I began to wonder if the solitude was slowly driving me mad. Eventually though I did drift off and woke the following morning to the pitter patter of rain droplets hitting the tent. I ventured out to check the weather. A white vale of mist and fallen and completely obscured my beautiful views of the bay that I'd been looking forward to waking up to. I could only see a couple of hundred yards and began dreading the thought of trying to navigate my way to Scourie along the trodden trail that left Tarbet. With very little water left and certainly not enough to make up some pasta I boiled what I had and made a coffee and took the last flapjack from my pack. It wasn't much but at least it was something to start the day with and once I reached Scourie I figured I'd be able to get more pasta and rice and on the way find a waterfall or stream to collect some water from. As I waited for the rain to stop I lay in the coffin typing up my blog still trying to catch up from cape wrath which by now was a good few days and miles ago.

Just over an hour passed when the pitter patter stopped. I climbed out from my shelter and looked around. The mist was still heavy but the visibility had improved slightly. I packed up my gear, wiping the enormous fat slugs that had decided to slime their way over the tent and headed up the steep hill in the direction the sign was pointing wondering how difficult it was going to be following the path especially considering the sign had specifically said it wasn't waymarked. At the top of the slope I almost immediately lost the main trail with a multitude of trails spreading out like a spiders web. Choosing the one that looked most used and that seemed to head to the coast I followed it. After a few yards it stopped looking down over the bay. It was certainly a nice view but that was as far as it went. I turned round and headed back following a different trail that ran next to a dry stone wall. As I got closer to the place I'd deviated from the path I noticed a sign pointing into a marsh showing the way the Scourie. With the mist so thick I hadn't spotted it from the top of the hill. I then began to follow this new, not very well defined trail. I'd only been walking 10 minutes and already I'd got lost and it began to dawn in me how tough the day was actually going to be.

Continuing to follow the trail, every now and then going to higher ground to try and identify the trail ahead in the mist I headed up into the mountains across the boggy terrain occasionally walking over worn rocks, my boots having a hard time gripping and slowly seeping with water. After a few miles I began to descend down towards a loch, the mist clearing partly to reveal a small island in the middle with a lonely tree growing tall. It was quite a kool sight and I wondered how the trail would have looked like during a bright summerd day. Quite different I would imagine. Continuing along the trail I soon began to ascend up from the loch onto another hill. At the top I soon lost the trail once more, seemingly it just ended. Deciding to go for higher ground I left the trail to see what I could see if anything at all. The mist was thick and obscured everything except what was pretty much directly in front of me. I headed away from the trail continuing to seek out some sign of a trail, ahead a huge mountain the sides covered with ferns and bushes and below the loch, the island smothered and out of sight. Still I could not find any form of trail. Deciding to create a search pattern back towards the trail I'd left I headed down from my view point and back towards the trail. There was still no sign of any trails leading onwards. I should have found something even if it was a footprint in the mud or disturbance in the grass and ferns but there was nothing. I needed to come up with another plan. I began to make my way back along the trail that had lead me there to see if I'd missed something. As I did I spotted three hikers coming towards me. Calling out to them I wished them a good morning and asked if any of them had brought a map.

Per, Henrik and Lars were from Denmark and had started walking the west coast of Scotland sone years before, each time they came over they'd spend a week walking from one place to another staying in bed and breakfast accommodation or hotels after each leg. Thankfully they'd brought a map and like me had lost their way in the mist. Henrick pulled out the map and together we quickly identified the loch with its island below and realised that we'd all missed a junction in the trail. We had two choices, either head back to try to locate the where the trail split or walk across from where we were over the hills and ridges until we came across the trail once more. Deciding that a quick wild crossing was easier we all set off together.

Heading off as a small group we crossed the top of the hill down into a wet marshy basin and up over another ridge. It was quite an odd feeling walking with other people, the last time I'd had company was when Darren had joined me at Whitby. After a short while still very much lost amongst the mist and mountains we stopped to regain an idea on our position, we couldn't have been far from the trail but still unable to locate it. Henrik once again pulled out the map. Looking around we couldn't see any discernable landmarks to help us pin point our position so finding a vague trail, possibly left by sheep I began to follow it trusting my instincts. A little further along from out of the mist I saw another loch. Calling back the guys came over and we looked at the map. We could see from the map that at one end of the loch a small stream joined another loch and about half way along the stream the trail crossed over. It was obvious to us thar by simply following the edge of the loch we'd eventually cone across the trail and would be able to continue with the hike. Sure enough following the loch we found the stream and ultimately picked up the trail. It was a hard hike, climbing the sides of the steep ridges and crossing the bogs, often loosing a foot or two in the mud as we continued to follow the trail. Eventually after climbing an extremely steep slope to the top of a hill Per called back to me "am I seeing things? ". As I came up behind him I realised what he was talking about. Ahead a mere mile away we could see buildings. It was Scourie. The descent towards the town felt victorious and it was agreed that we'd had quite the adventure. Our first port of call was the bar at the hotel they were staying in for a well deserved pint. We chatted at the bar while I charged my battery pack and in the evening was treated to a burger and chips. Not wanting to head off that evening I decided to camp up at a small picnic area we'd passed just down the road from the hotel. Passing the spar I stopped in and bought a few supplies including a reel of thread with the money willy had given me before leaving Kinlochbervie.

It had rained once again over night but the following morning the sun was making its best efforts to shine between the clouds. Feeling the inside of my boots and discovering they were still wet I decided to take a long morning to allow them to at least dry a little bit more before setting off. Using the spare time I got down to writing up my blogs once more in a vain attempt to finally bring everyone up to date.

Just after lunch time I decided to pack away and set off. The day had turned out lovely and I simply didn't want to waste my good fortune. I followed the road through scourie which essentially consisted of a convenience store, a hotel, a tackle shop and a dozen houses. As I hiked up the hill I turned down the first road which took me to the Scourie beach and burial ground. There was a funeral taking place and it seemed the entire village had attended. Not wanting to appear insensitive I didn't stop or take any photos but instead turned around and made my way back to the road unable to go any further. Back at thw main road I continued up the hill turning down each culdesac and returning the way I'd come always ending up back at the road I was desperate to leave.

After a few miles I eventually found myself at a junction heading towards a place called upper Badcall. It had now begun to rain but thankfully only a passing shower. Once again the road ended and I found myself looking along tge coastline trying to determine a route that would get me closer to the waters edge. Now that I'd left the isolation of the remote areas of the north coast and now amongst civilisation it became apparent that my journey and goal to stick to the coastline was going to get considerably harder. Walking back along the road looking across the hills covered in heather and ferns to my right I thought I'd spotted a potential way down to the bay below with its small islands dotted around. The last time I'd seen a view quite like this was when I was in Thailand some 7 years earlier. Now determined not to be beaten I left the road and made my way down the rocky bank and over the heathers. Aboutg half way down I hit my first challenge, a deer proof fence about 7 feet high. It was quite flimsy and I wasn't sure if it would take the weight of me and my pack but I decided to climb it anyway. Jumping down to the otherside I landed amongst the grass and heather onto soft, wet peaty soil. It then occured to me that I was going to have a much tougher time ahead of me with the coast becoming more and more unnavigable, man made obstacles blocking my way and hindering my progress. I continued on though and made my way across the bog and through a small wood onto a gravel track. I was still not a close to the coasy as I haf hoped. I then had no choice but to follow the track which took me back to the main road I thought I'd managed to escape. Turning right on the road I kept to the verge unable to go anywhere else due to more high fences, hedgerows of brambles and gorse bushes and thick with trees or high solid rock cliffs.

Eventually, after several miles hiking I found another junction. It was the entrance to loch a' mhuilinn national nature reserve. As I entered the reserve I noticed a map showing the nature walk and route which would allow me to get closer to the coast than if I'd stuck to the road.

Followin the single lane tarmac road I headed down and away from the main road passing the loch to my right until it stopped at a gate. On the otherside of the gate the trail continued along a tarmac path, probably an old road tgat used to be the only way for traffic to pass this amazing rocky and mountainous area from one village to the next before the two laned main highway had been blasted through the landscape. It was a lovely walk and I wondered how many visitors had ever ventured so far, the wild plants had taken over growing across the tarmac forming a very narrow trail alongside a few isolated lochs and small waterfalls. Nearing the end if the trail it began to look post apocalyptic with old passing place roadsigns obscured by the vegetation. Now at the end I finally foubd a small bay that lead to the sea but nowhere else, steep cliffs towering above me. There was a small hut and upon closer inspection and finding the door unlocked discovered a working toilet, which was handy as I really needed to go and trying to find soft soil to dig a pit among the rocks was proving fruitless. After taking a 10 minute break I followed a gravel and churned up tarmac road away from the bay back up to the road above.

My feet were beginning to hurt and the back pack was starting to dig into my lower back feeling heavier. I headed up to the road and continued my quest of navigating the coast line as close as I possibly could. As I reached the top of a small hill it showered once more and quickly passed over. Ahead I could see a small loch, from the middle a rainbow had formed and arched its way over the hills and out of sight. "This must be where you find Rainbow trout" I chuckled. Carrying on I followed the road and as I descended found myself gazing across a large loch with a gorgeous forest climbing the immense hillside opposite. At the bottom of the hill was duartmore bridge. The sun was now beginning to set and I knew I needed to find somewhere to camp. It was only 8pm but I would only have about half hour to locate somewhere before night fall. Crossing the bridge I headed up the slope still following the road until I found a small viewpoint and car park. It wasn't ideal but it would have to do. I unpacked the tent and putting the pegs in at an acute angle managed to pitch the tent using that matted grass that covered the tarmav and rocky ground to hold everything in place. As I tried to get to sleep my muscles ached and my feet felt bruised.

The following morning I woke to a cloudy sky, made up sone flavoured pasta hoping my supplies would arrive with jo soon so that I could once again have a reasonable breakfast. My trousers, although one size smaller than the pair I'd started the trek in were also now feeling loose. I'd list more weight and was a little concerned as to whether or not I would in fact be able to finish the challenge or have to pull out due to health reasons. I began to wonder at which point or where along the coadt it would become a real issue and I'd be to weak or unhealthy to carry my kit.

Putting damp socks on and wet boots is never a good way to start the day. None the less I had no choice. I packed up camp and went to see the view that I'd been unable to see the night before. It was spectacular, a gorgeous loch with still waters surrounded by tall trees and overlooked by rocky hills. It as a small consolation for the aches, pains and wet feet. After admiring my personal view from the camp site I headed if back to the road and its vertical rocky walls pinning me to the route I was now walking. It wasn't lonh though before the views changed once more and I began to realise thay along this coast it was becoming more and more difficult to determine where the coastline stopped and the lochs began. In front of me now I was presented with a spectacular view of two enormous mountains across a mist covered loch. Thankfully I knew that I'd eventually be walking round the bottoms of the mountains and not having to climb over them. As I walked, still along the road, beside the loch I came across a viewpoint with a memorial to those that tested and manned the first submarines during the war. The loch had been both the testing area as well as the training area.

I took a short breal but soon moved on crossing a bridge taking me towards the mountains on the far side of the loch. The road then swept its way around the loch to the left between the hills until I saw a sign at a junction that directed me to drumbeg and the coastal road to Lochinver. At the junction there was a desk and chairs, not the usual place you'd find office equipment but looking around at the views I could see why an individual would want to make this particular junction their office. Leaving the unusual office location I set off following the road up the far side of the hills I'd approached from the loch and began the long hike to drumbeg. About a mile or so later while catching my breath having pretty much stomped up the slope found myself looking up at one of the two mountains, now considerably closer. It was huge and I could make out two enormous crags reaching up from the bottom almost all the way to the top. In my head I began plotting a potential multi pitch climb and tried to imagine the views you would see from the peak. I really wanted to go for it and conquer the mountain but without the right gear and nobody to belay me it simply wasn't going to happen, well not on this trip anyway.

Further along the view got better as the road plummeted into a valley the mountains still on my left with a stunning forest below climbing up the slopes, a huge cascading waterfall running into the treeline and disappearing out of sight until it emerged from beneath the trees forming a somber stream thayvran over rocks and rumble below me. Unfortunately the sun was in completely the wrong place and I couldn't take photo. The light balance of the camera silloetting the landscape and obscuring the forest under a vail of blackness. Extremely annoyed with the camera and the fact I wasn't able to share this moment and probably the most impressive view I'd seen whilst on the trek with everyone I continued along the road. I was still a very ling way from the coast and knew I wouldn't reach it that day and would be very surprised if I'd got anywhere close. The road continued to snake its way between the hills beneath the mountains diving to the bottom of valleys and climbing steeply up into the hills one after the other for many more miles. Eventually I began my final descent of the day into a small loch side valley surrounded by trees and saw a nice grassy area that I'd considered would make a reasonable place to camp up for the night. I wasn't sure how much further drumbeg would be and the sun was almost hidden by the tops of the hills in front of me.

As I made my way over I noticed a car and another tent so I went over to say hello. Meg,short fir megatron, was an extremely vocal but ultimately friendly dog. Rick and clare were from Lincolnshire and celebrating their one years anniversary by wild camping around Scotland for a week. Both were keen sea kayakers and both loved the outdoors life. Being particularly friendly I was invited to join them for a cup of hot tea and home made flapjacks while meg and I made friends. Having a few problems with their multi fuel stove Amy took it apart piece by piece and eventually got it going. The sun had completely vanished now and with no light pollution the stars were twinkling above us while I ate my last high calorie ration, that I'd been saving, and they shared a bowl of soup with sandwiches. Without any cloud cover to trap the warmth in the temperature dropped sharply and I set about making camp beside the waters edge and bid them good night.