13 - 18 October

13th October

It was a very cold night although I was sure that it would get colder as the next few months passed. I woke around 6:30 am and made myself a morning coffee and breakfast. I wanted to make the most of what little daylight I was getting so packed up quickly. Stowing the last few items in to my pack proved difficult,  my hands numb with the cold. Looking around I spotted the beginning of a faint trail that lead away from the isolated house in the opposite direction to the way in which I'd arrived. Feeling confident that it would follow the coast towards torridon I set off.

As I hiked the trail along the slopes and around the hills I began thinking about how the loss of my knife could quite simply cost me my life. Without it certain tasks that were easy such as building and starting a fire or setting snares would now become either difficult or simply impossible. I felt like I'd been thrown back in to the stone age and my knowledge of flint axes was vague at best. Yes I still had my pocket knife which gave me a slight advantage but would it be enough. None the less I wouldn't let it defeat me and hoped my skills and ingenuity would provide me with solutions to any future situations I'd come across.

Eventually the trail took me down along a narrow ledge towards lower ground and into a small birch wood with a small stream running through it. It had turned out to be a lovely sunny day and I was hot and feeling hungry and thirsty. To preserve my gas I decided to build a small fire using my swiss army knife and a large branch to hit the blade to split small branches. It was hard work and I nearly cut myself sever times. I did however manage to get a fire going using dead ferns to start the fire then laying small twigs on top before adding the kindling I'd made. I collected water from the stream and boiled it so that I knew it was safe to drink and rummaged around my pack to see what I had I could eat. In a blue plastic ice cream tub that had been left at two lochs radio and which had previously been filled with scones were slices of lemon drizzle cake Josephine had made for me when I spent the day on the Isle of skye. I'll admit hiking through the wilderness with a huge pack has its advantages, devouring pretty much the whole cake made me feel considerably better and having got the fire going with only a small pocket knife was quite empowering. A small triumph maybe but the boost to my moral was enormous.

Feeling refreshed, full and rested I gathered my gear together and set off through the woods following the path till I reached inverallgin. I only knew this because I'd joined a road and there was a sign letting me know where I was. A definite disadvantage of not carrying a map is that you never really know where you are however the advantages of not having a map means you're not influenced when picking a route, your days are full of adventure and you have very little idea of how far you still have left to walk which in my case is a very long way.

The road I was now following ran as close to the loch as you would like and eventually I came across an unusual building.  It was like a dog impound, a brick building with three doors that lead into three caged areas. My imagination started to run riot,  could these be zombie holding pens. I had to take a closer look. Going inside one of the cages I walked over to the closed door and opened it. On the floor was a wooden board and dry hay. Maybe they locked naughty children up in here or diseased farm workers. Maybe I had spent too much time watching horror movies when I was a teenager or maybe I'd spent a little too much time on my own recently. Near to the cages was an old brick barn, the doors locked with a rusted lock and windows dirty and dusty. Trying to peer through I couldn't see a thing and wondered what secrets lay inside. A small track headed away from the eerie buildings and passed a cottage,  a sign outside saying it was the gardeners cottage. The track joined a tarmac road and again followed the edge of the loch.

The road finally brought me to the end of the loch and into the village of torridon. It had gone 5pm and the local shop had closed.  I needed to get a few supplies and without knowing where the next shop could possibly be I decided to pitch my tent on a small piece of grass between a large boulder and a gorse bush just out of sight beside the loch. In front of the tent was a small stone wall crossing a small bay. It could only be seen at low tide and had been built a few hundred years ago as a fish trap. The idea being that when the tide went out fish would be trapped on the shallow side making for easy catching.

14th October

It was a cold night and a colder morning. I woke when it was light around 8am and packed my kit away. The local cafe opened at 10am so I sat outside waiting hoping to get a nice hot breakfast and to buy supplies from the shop before I set off back up the otherside of the loch and back to the coast. While waiting sat on the bench outside I began chatting to a lady from London who'd stopped at the youth hostel for a few days to get away from the hustle and bustle of city life. She was used to a 24 hour lifestyle but liked the laid back appeal of the west coast of Scotland with its fresh air and beautiful landscape back drops. When the store and cafe opened we both went in to get some bits. I noticed that the lady had picked up a packet of compede, a product I find expensive and quite frankly useless. I had to intervene and suggest that prevention is better than a cure. I advised that she should slap vaseline on to her feet before going walking and to maybe wear a thin pair of socks inside her walking socks thus reducing the friction on the skin of her feet.  I also advised that a needle and thread should be used that night should the vaseline trick not work adding that it would be considerably cheaper for her as well. Taking my advice she bought a small tub and insisted she buy me breakfast, a bacon roll and coffee. I didn't refuse her kind offer and gratefully accepted.

After finishing my roll I found myself still quite hungry so I decided to order another coffee and a bacon and egg roll just to add to the calories and to try a regain some weight. While I waited for my second breakfast roll of the morning I began chatting to a couple who'd popped in for a bite and a drink. Les and Jane lived in inverallgin and were interested in my little journey around the coast stating that I would have passed their home as I'd walked through their village. Apparently it was the one with the yellow van outside.  To be honest I didn't notice any vans as I passed through and was either preoccupied with the views or the pains in my aching muscles. Whilst munching away on my second breakfast roll I continued to entertain Jane and les with my little stories about the challenge.  It appeared that I had enough to fill a book. Eventually though they had to leave but before they went they told me to stop at Nanny's,  the cafe in Shieldaig as there would be a breakfast waiting for me. I thought that was an extremely kind gesture and thanked them before saying goodbye.

Having one more coffee before I left torridon I went up to jo, the owner to settle my bill. I was surprised to discover that les and Jane had gone half with jo and paid for me. Not being the first time this had happened it still never ceases to amaze.

Before leaving the village I was told by jo that I should stop by the ancient village meeting place, a small secluded area on a small outcrop on the loch. A small stone wall surrounded a couple rows of stones shaped into a semi circle. The villagers would meet there and sit on the stones while somebody held the meeting up front. It was extremely quaint and a lovely little stop off. As I explored the stone gathering place I imagined what it would have been like and what would have gone on there.

Leaving the ancient relic I followed a footpath around the loch to a small car park where I had to then follow a tarmac track to the main road.  The road took me to the torridon hotel,  the only place locally with free wifi. I Stopped for a drink and to upload photos as well as get a quick booster charge on my phone. I had a fair hike ahead of me to get up to the peninsula and round to Shieldaig. I left the hotel and followed a gravel track through the forest that ran alongside the loch. It was a picturesque trail and extremely easy to follow. The track eventually took me to a place called Diabaig which from what I could gather consisted of one singular house. The sun was beginning to set now and it would soon be dark. With nowhere else to go I followed the road running parallel to the loch into the evening. With only the light from my head torch no guiding the way I continued along the road and eventually arrived at the village of Shieldaig. I was still at least half a days hike from the coast. Unable to clearly see anything ahead I decided to pitch my tent next to a picnic table overlooking the loch. A cattle grid in the road would act like an alarm clock in the morning and I knew I'd get an early start. Climbing into my tent I decided to sleep in my clothes once again. The temperatures at night now dropping low and potentially could reach freezing point.

15th October

Getting colder every night I find myself waking up periodically warming my hands between my legs and using my jackets as extra blankets. Pitched up by the road next to a cattle grid I was woken by the drilling sound of a truck driving over the metal bars. It was cold but a few degrees warmer than what I'd endured that night. Boiling some water I made a cappuccino. I checked the battery levels of the solar battery that charged my phone while I was sleeping.  It registered 38% which from experience wouldn't give me a full charge. I'd have to try and get at least another 30% that day to ensure I had power for a couple more days at least.

Shieldaig is a picture postcard village with its white painted houses lined up along the edge of the loch facing a small island. Leaving my little camp site I headed along the main road passed the houses and inn till I arrived at Nanny's the small cafe at the end of the village. It had a perfect view of the loch and the small tree laden island. The year before Nanny's cafe was a small tin shack capable of sitting only a few customers at a time this year though they'd moved into a much larger converted cottage with a very modern feel to its decor. I ordered my breakfast courtesy of les and jane, whom it turned out baked the cakes for the cafe.

Having a number of photos to upload from my hike the day before I decided to pop back to the inn I'd passed and quickly make use of their wifi and boost the charge on my phone. Whilst sat at the bar having an orange juice and lemonade I began chatting to steve carter, a photographer and composer.  Steve had published several books of photos from Shieldaig and the beautiful landscapes along the west coast. After he left I was handed a small pile of his works and as I thumbed through the pages I found myself thinking "been there!".

The skies were clear and blue,  the sun was out and it had turned into a gorgeous autumn day. Not too hot and not too cold, but perfect for walking. I set off from the inn, passing Nanny's with steve and some friends sat outside enjoying a coffee and followed the road up and down and around the loch. Through small woods overlooking some of the most dramatic and yet subtle scenery I'd seen on the journey till now.

It was a fair hike and although easy following the road it was tough climbing the endless string of hills. Eventually though I reached the coast once again and roads and paths would become out of bounds unless absolutely necessary. I left the tarmac behind me and began to climb up the rocky grass covered hills and followed the coast around. After a couple of miles the terrain turned tough with the slopes becoming steeper and harder to negotiate. The road was now above me and only a few feet away as I picked up a small trail that took me above the cliffs and round to a secluded house. Unable to follow the coast much further without disturbing somebody's privacy I headed for the road, the only way left for me to take. I walked the road a short way to the small village of Kenmore and its harbour. The sun was beginning to disappear behind the mountains so I decided to seek out somewhere to camp up for the night. A small birch wood just shy of the village seemed like a good place to stop and finding a grassy clearing I decided to pitch up and make a small fire to keep me warm while the sun set. The sky was still clear and as darkness fell I could see the stars through the canopy of autumn leaves.

16th October

It had been a mild night and I woke late that morning. Once again I had smooth oats with raspberries, the only breakfast meal available from the supplier but somehow it always seems to taste great. It was a windy morning and the sky covered with clouds. After packing away the tent and getting myself ready I set off through the village and headed across the crofts where I picked up an old coastal path. The path took me through the hills and along the coastline eventually descending into a coastal woodland. I'd noticed that recently I'd been encountering more and more trees along the way which was nice, the North coast and certainly the vast majority of the east coast certainly lacked woodland and forests.  In fact it was a rarity to cone across small copses or even lonely Individual trees.

The path through the woods came out in a fern covered opening before heading down to a small rocky bay. Beyond the bay was what appeared to be someone's garden so I left the area through their main gate and joined the road. A couple of hundred yards later I entered another small coastal woodland and into another bay. Ahead of me was a small village with maybe a dozen or so houses dotted about. I made my way through the village and up into the wasteland beyond.  It then occurred to me that pretty much all of the ferns, which had hindered my progress earlier in the year, had died off and lay brittle and broken,  a light brown colour and not the dark green I had been used to.

Walking over the hills and following the coastline I gazed at the isle of skye and its surrounding islands. Why on earth did I decide to add it to my trek. The island looked enormous and the coastal terrain difficult to navigate,  probably more so than I had found the Scottish west coast so far. The reasons simply didn't matter now I was going to do regardless and hoped I would get the support to help me complete the challenge which was significantly bigger than I had ever imagined.

After an hour or so I came across a large building,  some kind of MOD radio station or something. I skirted round it to find myself at a small sandy beach with tourists walking around clockwise like prisoners in an exercise yard. It was fairly amusing. On the far side of the beach was a huge sand dune that scaled the side of the far cliffs. I decided to attempt to scale it to reach the road at the top. It was hard going,  the sand falling a few inches after every step but by kicking my feet in like an ice climber with crampons I eventually made it to the top. Standing at the top looking down at the beach it strangely occured to me that I hadn't come across any caves for quite some time. I was expecting the rugged rocky coast of western Scotland to have more caves to explore than I had time for. In fact the only cave I knew of had been the one marked on the map displayed on the wall of the bothy at craig that unfortunately I hadn't explored.

The road followed the coastline along the clifftop all the way to Applecross,  which I have to admit wasn't exactly how I'd imagined it to be. I'd been told by many people on my journey how picturesque the village was with its beach but the beach as far as I could see was just another sandy beach.  I'd seen plenty more that looked considerably more inviting and beautiful.  The bay was also much larger than I had imagined.  In my head I had visioned a quaint secluded sandy bay with trees surrounding it and a few houses dotted about amongst them. Theres was indeed trees but they were grouped mostly at one end and the houses were all lined up along the harbour.

The sun had begun to set over the isle of skye as I made my way towards Applecross so I decided to find a small clearing amongst the trees and enter the village the following morning. I was running low on food and hoped there would be a small shop I could get a few things from to tide me over for a few days while I waited for my weekly budget to get transferred to my current account. Although I had two supply boxes waiting with jo I was also waiting for a replacement knife to be delivered and wanted to have it all sent at the same time.

After hunting for a good spot to camp for the night I decided on a place next to the river that flowed into the bay. Somebody had arranged large rocks in a circle for a camp fire and the sandy ground was relatively flat. I put up the tent and went in search of tinder, kindling and reasonable sized branches that I could break with my size 10 boots. Not having a knife to chop or split wood limits the fuel I can use.

Once the fire was burning nicely and the air around the campsite nicely warmed up I prepared my evening meal leaving me with only two left and no breakfasts.

17th October

It was a mild night. I woke to the sound of the running water of the river I'd camped next to, boiled some water and made myself a cappuccino and ate some shortbread biscuits for breakfast as I'd eaten all my breakfast rations. I was now down to two evening meals only and unsure where I'd be able to pick up my next supplies. Rooting around my pack I found a couple of twix fingers, two packets of sweets, two flapjacks, a mugs worth of hot chocolate and a coffee sachet. It looked increasingly like I would have to prepare myself mentally to survive and really hoped I could find a shop nearby. I was sure I had money in the bank and figured that if I spent it wisely I would easily be able to feed myself over the next 4-5 days.

After packing up I walked the mile into Applecross. As I entered the village I saw a sign saying that the shop was another mile away. Passing the village inn I decided to pop in to use there wifi and check my bank balance to see how much I had to spend so I could budget for the next few days and not overspend. I had 5 pounds in my pocket in cash so ordered an orange juice and lemonade and sat down at one of the tables. Logging on to my bank I pulled up the statement. £5.34. That couldn't be right,  I was expecting to see around £20. On checking the details of the statement I noticed a payment of £15 and wondered what it had been for as I hadn't used my card in a while.  It turned out to be an old subscription for an Internet service I thought I'd cancelled before I started the trek. This would now cause me a few problems. Firstly the minimum you could spend on a card was between £10-15  and secondly you can't buy very much with a fivet although coupled with the £2.50 I still had at least it would be something. There was nothing else I could do I'd have to see what I could get at the shop with the cash I had on me and survive the weekend until my budget was replenished. It seems that on the trek something always seems to happen,  be it danger, excitement and adventure or things breaking and the lack of food and supplies.  How I ever thought I'd be able to complete the challenge I shall never know.

While connected to the inns wifi I did have an alert come through that offered a shimmer of hope. The bothy app I'd installed in Durness indicated that there was a bothy nearby. I checked the map and it was along the coast ahead of me just a couple of miles short of where I'd hoped to be that evening.  It was a place called uags. Knowing that visitors to bothys often leave long lasting foods such as rice, tins, tea and coffee my spirits perked up a little.  I just hoped that this was the case here and that it was a popular stop off for hikers and wild campers.

I left the inn with my priorities changed and followed the road which ran a few meters from the coast to the next village,  camusteel, to find the shop. Luckily I arrived just as the shop keeper was closing up. What I hadn't realised was that once the tourist season finished shops tended to close up early due to a lack of custom.  Thankfully the shop keeper reopened and I went in to see what I could buy with what little I had left in  my pocket. Grabbing a packet of super noodles and a packet of tuc savoury salted biscuits I spent all that I had to my name unable to use my card and the remaining five pounds left in my bank account.

I then headed along the road till I reached a small village on the coast on a small peninsula went over heathers and marshes to the headland where I was stopped in my tracks by sheer vertical rock walls preventing me getting down. I had to follow clifftop around until I came to a gravel track which lead me down to a small village with a harbour. Looking across the harbour it was difficult to see where I would be able to climb the cliffs and slopes to get me back to the coast. Asking a local for advice he said I could get to the bothy by crossing his bridge and going through the gate at the side. Then I could follow a footpath trail up along the cliffs. Finding the bothy would be simple as it was used quite regularly. I crossed bridge and followed trail that had been described to me, along the cliffs and between the rocky hills.

In places the trail seemed to disappear and I was left to make my own trail but more often than not I'd find it again. After an hour or so and looking along the coast I spotted the skye bridge.  It didn't seem that far away either, a few days by foot granted and I wasn't sure how many lochs I'd have to negotiate but it was most definitely close enough to feel a little excited as well as a little apprehensive at the same time.

Eventually I found myself heading down off the hills near to the coast through a small oak wood, on the other side I could see ruins of an old village. It had to be the place. Emerging from the woods I saw the uags bothy. It had a new roof and was set in a lovely location next to a small bay with an area of short green grass in front. Inside the bothy it was very apparent that work had been done renovating the interior.  New wooden shiplap boards had been put up on the inner walls and all the rooms, upstairs and down were immaculate. As with all bothys I've visited I looked around for candles, firewood and to see what had been left by previous visitors. On a shelf in the living room I found a packet of tea lights, coffee sachets, tea bags, a bag of sugar, some small jam pots and a packet of macaroni and cheese.  There was dry firewood and firelighters. Outside there was a small stream with fresh water so I decided to fill up my hydration bladder and get  fire going as the sun set over skye.

18th October

Waking up at dawn to the sound of a little drizzle hitting the tin roof I made a coffee and ate a flapjack.  The rain soon cleared up so I put the solar panels out hoping skies would clear as I needed to get a charge on my phone. It was a Saturday which meant I would need to survive three days and make sure I was near a shop for the Tuesday. Looking at a map I'd found on the window sill I decided that maybe staying at the bothy two or three nights would not only give me a short break but would also conserve my energy. The bothy being in such a good location would also possibly provide me with some natural nourishment and had to be worth investigating.

The skies had completely cleared when I finally got myself organised and I headed out with a small plastic box to gather kindling from the nearby woods for a fire that night. Once  I'd filled the box I gathered large fallen branches and cut them down to size using a saw I found hung up under the stairs. I cut plenty of wood to last a couple of days but at the same time was conscious of the energy I was using and the calories I was burning. Taking a short break and making another coffee I began to feel a little light headed and dizzy. I needed sugar, my body was screaming out for it. Although I'd wanted to save my last packet of boiled sweets for the hike away from the bothy I decided my immediate requirements were greater and I'd deal with the hike when it came to it.

Feeling better I decided to get my fishing line ready and although I didn't have a fishing pole figured I would try using the same method amazonian tribes used by casting from my palm and feeding the line back into my hand. A method a friend recently reminded me of during a quick call a few weeks earlier. I'd never fished like this before but it was certainly worth trying. Not that I'm a particularly good fisherman anyway and having problems eating fish due to an involuntary gag reflex every time I'd tried fish in the past. It was something I really wanted to conquer and the fact I was hungry I hoped would aid my attempts. All I had to do now was wait for the evening high tides and try my luck.

While I waited for the day to pass I went off gathering blackberries from the bushes near to the bothy and hunt for signs of rabbits so I could set some snares.  I only found about a dozen berries but every little helped. I didn't find any traces of rabbit or hare though only deer tracks.

Next I went down to the shore of the bay to pick a good spot to try catching fish from. A rocky outcrop seemed like a good spot just a little way from the seaweed and kelp. Leeched onto the rocks around the bay I also spotted limpits which meant that as a last resort I could survive on limpits and kelp. It doesn't sound too appetising but when you're hungry anything edible will do. I wandered back to the grass and sat down in the sun and feeling confident I gazed at the island I would be circumnavigating soon. I then notice a tick had crawled on to my arm and was beginning to borrow into my skin. Immediately I pulled the little blood sucker off. Ticks are known to carry something called lime disease which was something I seriously did not want ever, let alone with many months of hiking and cold winter evenings coming up.

Back inside the bothy I sat down and made my self a cup of tea but while sat in one of the arm chairs sipping away I spotted another tick crawling up my arm, then two more. I must have picked up the freeloaders whilst foraging and quickly evicted them before they had a chance to dig in.

While I waited for the tide I sat and read a two week old newspaper someone had left followed by a couple of science magazines, which were very interesting. As evening fell I headed down to the bay with my line in hand and using a bit of my mornings flapjack as bait began casting out. I'd been casting out repetitively for about an hour or so when I got a bite. To be honest I was completely surprised and hadn't really expected anything.  As I reeled the line back into my palm I felt the tugging stop. A case of "the one that got away". Disheartened I put another piece of flapjack onto the hook and tried a couple more times before giving up and heading inside.  Just as I got back to the bothy it began raining heavily so I brought my solar charger inside, charged the phone and lit a fire.

As I got the fire going I heard a noise that sounded like the moans of the living dead, a sound I was now very familiar with. Looking through the window of the bothy towards the grass outside I saw a red stag laying down calling for a mate. It didn't even know I was there.

Eventually the stag moved on, it would seem that he'd been unsuccessful in attracting a partner, so I boiled some water and made up the noodles.  Whilst eating my evening meal I decided that I'd head off the following morning to makers sure that I was closer to civilisation for the Tuesday and hope to find a post office where I'd be able to withdraw the remaining funds from my bank account.