13 - 14 November

13th November

Around 4am, although I'm not entirely sure of the actual time, I was woken suddenly as the world crashed down on top of me. The wind hadn't let up for one moment and my shelter simply couldn't cope any longer. The guys holding the corners of the tarp and the cord strung between the two rocks simply snapped. I was pinned to the ground like a shrink wrapped turkey. Unable to move and feeling particularly fatigued I decided to stay wrapped up in my cozy sleeping bag inside the bivi under the tarp. The pegs were still holding the tarp in place and the wind blew right over the top. At least I was out of the rain and with such strong winds I didn't think I'd be able to do that much with the shelter anyway.

The following morning after just a couple more hours sleep I decided to crawl out from my little shrink wrapped cocoon. I knew it was morning only because I could see light through the tarp. The wind was still blowing hard but had lifted a little from earlier.

Remaining under the tarp I did my best to pack my gear away, wrestling the new sleeping bag into its stuff sack and gathering up my stove. With my boots on and dressed in my wet weather gear I eventually crawled out from under the tarp to inspect the damage. As I had suspected the cord and guy ropes had frayed on the rocks and eventually snapped. It was not the best start to the day.

With everything packed I turned to head towards the beach,  my plan was to traverse the rocks along the shoreline. Stood on the stones looking left I began to plan a route in my head to get me started. The wind was howling though and the more I plotted the stronger it seemed to get. Nearly being blown to the ground I decided not to make the attempt. It was too dangerous and one lucky gust could end the trek there and then. I had to make another plan. Taking out my phone and studying the satellite images of the area I noticed there was a track that ran parallel to the coast, all I needed to do was get back to the road I'd followed the day before and about halfway along take a right that would bring me back on track albeit a quarter of a mile inland. It wasn't ideal but it was the best I could come up with and certainly safer than the original plan.

Once back at the road I backtracked until I found some water. I'd run out the night before and due to my hasty retreat that morning I hadn't stopped for breakfast. I didn't have any dehydrated breakfasts left so settled for a couple of biscuits and a coffee. Even just having a meager breakfast like this makes a huge difference.  It seems that at the moment all I seem to want to do is eat.

It wasn't long after my break when I came across the junction I was looking for. A sign said "farm track only" but the images showed me a continuous track from where I stood  to the main road at the bottom of the peninsula. It had to be the right way so I set off.

The track did indeed pass through a small farm but then it continued. As I progressed the track became less easy to spot, the gravel grown over by grass, but once I'd passed the farm it became more obvious again. The track wound its way through a forest alongside a river and between solid rock walls. At the far end and after several miles hiking I went through some green painted gates and found myself near to the main road. The wind was still howling though and although it wasn't raining I found the hiking hard work.

Once up on the main road I began to feel disappointed that once again the weather had prevented me from trekking where no one else had. It couldn't be helped though, safety must always come first. Not dwelling on what can't be controlled I followed the road,  keeping my head down. With my shoulders and back aching and I needed to pause occasionally to adjust straps or shift the weight of the pack. On one such occasion I noticed a perfectly good blue nylon rope thrown against a tree next to the road. It was quite a narrow gauge and perfect for tying the tarp up. I measured out a good length and cut it to size before winding it up and taking it with me. The cord I had been using for the tarp was, no longer fit for purpose.

Feeling quite happy with my salvage I carried on. Time was slipping by now and I'd hoped to make it to peanmeanach bothy that night.  As the sun began to set though I realised that I probably wouldn't make it to the bothy before nightfall so I began looking for somewhere to stop the night.

I was now getting close to where I'd need to head off road. Spotting a small clearing with small waterfall and plenty of wood laying around I decided to call it a day and stop. It was only 3:30pm but the light was already quite dim. I set up the tarp among the trees using my newly found rope and gathered branches and twigs for a fire.

I'd literally just got camp ready and was just about to light the fire when the rain started. I put my saucepan outside while I got the fire going just under the tarp. I didn't want to waste the heat the fire was going to produce but I also had to watch I didn't melt my shelter at the same time. By the time the fire was well and truly lit I'd collected enough water in my saucepan to make a good  mug of coffee. The weather that night didn't bother me one bit. The trees were sheltering me and the tarp from the wind and the rain was running off the tarp at the back. Warm and dry I quite happily snuggled into my sleeping bag and had an early night.

14th November

The following morning the wind was still howling and my shelter, thankfully, was still serving as a shelter. Without having to rush around whilst under the tarp I boiled up some water for a coffee and grabbed three breakfast bars from my pack.

I only needed to follow the road around the bend for a couple of miles before I arrived at an off road parking space which signified the point I would have to head across country to the bothy located on the tip of the peninsula overlooking a beach. I wonder how many beaches I've crossed since starting off over so many months.

Beside the parking was an all too familiar green sign shaped to a point on one side. Ceum, path. It indicated that a footpath leading to peanmeanach began there. In some cases this was a good thing because it meant it was regularly used and potentially maintained. In other cases it was only a mere indicator and you had to use your imagination.

The footpath began quite reasonably, nice and wide, easy to follow and a good hardcore surface. Gradually the path began to narrow, but that was ok the hardcore surface continued. As I continued to follow the path down a slope and into a small birch woods the hardcore surface abruptly stopped and in front of me was a big muddy puddle and beyond that rocks and more mud.

The wind was still blowing strongly as I continued to follow the path up the side of a huge hill and towards the small mountain range I'd have to cross to get to the bothy. It got better in places but mostly it was rocks and mud. It was a steep climb to the top of the hill and although it was overcast above me across the loch the sun was shining uninterrupted over the autumn landscape.

Nearing the top I began to feel the wind whipping round through the peaks, I'd been sheltered coming up the path but now exposed I could really feel the full force. My pack was acting like a huge sail on my back and with each gust I could feel my body twisting and contorting, every step I took I had to watch my balance. The path ahead was now pretty exposed and ran alarmingly close to the edge with a very steep drop off down to the loch several hundred meters below.

Hesitantly I started walking the narrow trail, I felt particularly vulnerable. One slip and it could possibly mean a one way ticket for a close up of the shoreline. Making haste I focussed on way points along the trail, places I could take shelter from the wind if it was necessary. Each way point was approximately 20 meters apart. I reached the first without any problems but as I reached the second an extremely strong gust took me by surprise. My pack was pushed quite hard and felt my knees buckling,  instantly I reached out my left arm for balance and grabbed the corner of the boulder I was heading for, my second way point. My legs gave way as I lurched towards the trail to take cover. Now crouched leant up against the boulder I looked down.  It was a close call, taking a deep breath it occurred to me how lucky I was. My quick reactions meant I was still safely on the ridge but if I'd have delayed or done nothing then I would surely have slipped. The weight of my pack would have been too much for me, I wouldn't have been able to stop my descent, I would have kept sliding and falling until I either hit a tree or ground at the bottom.

Unable to safely move forward I waited until there was a break and the wind died down a little. The gusts come in waves, between each sunami it was calmer. Still blowing but calmer. Sure enough a few very long minutes later I seized my chance to get off the ridge. With a sense of urgency in my stride whilst at the same time showing caution I quickly made my way to my final way point. Without looking back I followed the trail down behind one of the peaks. As i descended I could see the bothy in the distance. It looked like it was in pretty good shape with a new roof. As I passed a small mountain loch on my left I lost sight of the beach and bothy but noticed how rough the waters were. Fresh water lochs, inland, are generally calm but this one was ferocious. Waves came barrelling across its surface as the winds picked up one after the other.

Now heading down the trail and leaving the peaks above me I found myself partially protected and the going was easier. Reaching the bottom took no time at all where I found a stream struggling to fulfil its role of providing a channel within which the water could escape to the sea down by the beach. The stream was too wide to jump but there were some stepping stones all though they were submerged and acting like a dam against the torrent. Picking my route carefully and hoping not to slip I began to cross. The wind was still blowing and a sudden gust, this time from behind, pushed me forward.  I lost my grip and balance on the stones and stumbled forward. My legs tried to keep up as I found myself falling forwards. I wasn't too far from the other side and could see a flat muddy puddle directly ahead. It wasn't an ideal choice but felt it was preferential than falling in to the cold waters of the stream. With a fumbling effort to get to land I lurched forward to place my left leg into the puddle. Only it wasn't a puddle,  oh no. This particular two meter round muddy puddle was concealing a bottomless abyss. Sinking instantly to just above my knee my right leg followed. I'd managed to avoid such incidents until now, well mostly. My first instinct was to grab something solid,  a couple of blades of grass, and leaning forward I managed to pull my left leg up and out of the boggy trap, although I must admit I did wonder if I'd still have a boot attached to my foot. Whilst freeing myself I could feel the bog sucking at my boot, it didn't seem to want to let go.

Once back on terrafirma I looked down at my legs, the waterproof trousers were covered in mud. It then occurred to me that scott would have wanted me to film the incident.  I pondered about that for a moment wondering if I would have been able to pull the camera out from my pocket afterall it would have made interesting footage. Deciding that the process of filming whilst rescuing myself would have probably ended with the phone getting damaged. Pulling up the trouser legs of my waterproofs I was surprised to find my trousers beneath were still dry and mud free. Something so trivial brought a little happiness to me as I chuckled to myself about what had just happened.  I then relocated the footpath and continued on to the bothy. It was still a mile away and to reach it I had to pass through another woodland and then cross a marsh.

The wind still hadn't let off and it began to rain heavily as I approached the ruins of peanmeanach village. The bothy was positioned fairly central to the beach and during the summer months I'm sure it would have been a lovely place to spend a long weekend.  For me, in this instance, it was shelter, it was my refuge from the elements. A place I could relax and dry out. Maybe I would spend more than one night there, I still had plenty of food and the post office where my supplies were waiting for me was only a days hike, if that.

From the outside the bothy looked much like may other single storey cottages. The roof had obviously been replaced in recent years. I opened the front door and was surprised to see stairs leading to two sleeping spaces in the loft, one of which had a dayglo pink lilo. The door to my left took me into the main living room with fireplace, two benches and work surfaces. There was a pile of dry wood in the corner with fire lighters on a shelf. I dropped my bag down and went to see what was behind the door to my right as I entered the bothy. It was another sleeping room complete with wooden bunks and its own fireplace. Compared to the bothy at craig or friesgill it was quite plain you could say it was functional. I think the things I liked most about the other two bothys was the fact they both had arm chairs and both felt comfortable and homely.

Hung on the wall next to the bunks was a small bag. I took the bag down and took it into the living room. Placing the bag on the side I began to empty it looking for things I could use. I found a tin of rice pudding, a couple of tea lights and pasta sauce perfect for use with tortellini and chorizo darryl had sent with the sleeping bag. My next task was to go to the stream, which had been joined by several other streams to form  a small river, and collect some water to make myself a coffee. It wasn't far and finding a 5 litre bottle on the work surfaces I decided to fill it up as well as the two 2 litre bottles I was carrying.

Once back in the bothy and out of the elements I set about getting the fire going and making myself a coffee. My feet were soaking wet so it was of some relief to take my socks and boots off and warm myself by the fire.

The pace of my life now is considerably slower than it used to be. Often I have to build my home before I settle in, often I have to gather wood to keep myself warm, often I have to find water to boil before I can have a drink. It seems like an age away that I used to stay sat at a desk for hours a day, every day. Fresh drinking water was available literally on tap. To keep warm it was simply a case of turning a dial.

The light had now begun to fade so I lit some candles and noticed a wonderful sunset through the window. I hadn't seen a calm sunset for a while so I grabbed my phone to take a photo. I opened the front door and leapt out of my skin as I was confronted by a hurd of deer, grazing. I hadn't expected to see them and I'm pretty sure they hadn't expected to see me. They bolted briefly but when they realised I was of no threat calmly went back to grazing. The wind had finally died off and the rain had stopped, I felt particularly calm and a small feeling of content warmed me.

After standing in the doorway admiring the sunset and watching the deer munching quite happily on the grass outside I decided I too was hungry. Going back in to the bothy I prepared the tortellini,  the instructions on the packet had worn off so I had to guess. While the tortellini was boiling away I cut up the chorizo sausage and added it to the saucepan. Finally I took the jar of pasta sauce and added that. It was delicious. A nice change to the freeze dried meals I was used to and it almost felt like I was cooking again. Completely stuffed I had to wait a while before heating up the rice pudding.  I had demerara sugar with me that I'd acquired from a café somewhere. Remembering my childhood I sprinkled the packets of sugar on top and stirred it in slightly. I'd found a new appreciation for food, once the challenge was finished things would never be the same for me again.

Feeling quite content I unpacked my sleeping bag and lay it over the benches in front of the fire. I popped out briefly to water the garden and found myself stood beneath an amazingly lit ceiling of stars. For some reason they looked particularly bright that night and peering up I could see the milkyway in all its splendor. A shooting star streaking across the horizon completed my picture of a perfect night.