19th October

When I woke in the bothy with the sun beating through the window I had no idea how tough the day would turn out to be. Having used up the majority of my phones battery the night before catching up on my blogs I decided to save what little was left in case I needed to make a call for help. Wanting to make the most of the good weather and clock up as many miles as possible I packed my gear away, had a cup of tea and ate my last flapjack. Only leaving me with a chicken tikka curry meal and the macaroni and cheese I'd found when I arrived at uags bothy.

The next part of my coastal journey would have to be completely improvised as there simply wasn't any footpaths from there along the coast to loch Carron. Stepping outside I could see a faint deer trail leading up passed the old ruins and into the hills.  The ground was soaking wet from the rainfall the night before and I knew that it wouldn't be long before my feet would get wet and I'd be back to squelching my way to my next home,  wherever that would happen to be. Climbing the hill the sun became obscured by clouds, the winds picked up and it began to lightly rain and from that moment on it didn't stop raining until nightfall.

Crossing the soft wet marsh I could feel the cold water leaking into my boots and a few moments later, just as the bothy disappeared behind the crest my feet began to squelch. The day was simply going to be one of those days. Not only would I be hungry but I'd also end up cold and wet, to put it mildly, miserable and wishing I was still back in the cozy front room of the bothy, a fire warming my toes and an arm chair to relax in.

I hadn't walked far when the trail I jad followed vanished, several light trail scarcely visible heading off in different directions and promptly vanishing. From here on in I'd have to make my own way and negotiate the rock faces, hills and cliffs on my own. Trying to stick to the higher more solid ground and still on the coastline I made my way through the tall wet grasses and over the spongy moss covered marshes slowly down into dips and climbing the slopes over the next hills. Slipping a few times on some of the steeper inclines and loosing grip on the wet heather I knew the day would be treacherous and I would have to take it slow and calculate the risks with every step.

Picking up another deer trail, one that appeared to be in regular use, I walked along the side of a steep slope looking down at the clifftop below. I'd become extremely used to this now, using my arms to balance me and keeping an eye out for rocks to grab should I slip or the ledge beneath me give way. Coming to a fork in the trail I was faced with the decision to either go high or go low. Going high for some reason felt right, I can't say what logic process brought me to that conclusion but up I went. The trail began to thin out and the ledge became considerably thinner. Looking to dangerous and slippery to continue I stopped.  Looking below at the lower trail which had also thinned out I decided to turn around and head back to the fork and attempt the traverse on the lower trail. With slightly better foot placements I made my way across, a slight slip started my heart beating hard and I realised that even though I was hungry the adrenaline would keep me going that day.

Once again the trail disappeared and I was once again left having to wade through the tall wet grass. If I was a hobbit, quite frankly I'd be buggered and would probably drown. By now I'd literally given up trying to keep dry and would have been better of wearing a wet suit.  My trousers were soaked to the skin, my feet were becoming webbed and I'd started developing gills. Not really but I think you get the picture.

Whilst making my own coastal trail down one steep slope I once again slipped on the heather twisting my left knee. It hurt like hell but I didn't stop I simply grunted and carried on. What I hadn't realised at the time was that the few miles I'd just walked was the easy bit of the day. The really hard parts were coming up.

Limping my way through more long wet grass i thought to myself that I might well have walked barefoot,  the boots appearing to be pointless and struggled to grip on some of the rocky surfaces. Then I heard a roar. The roar of a raging torrent. A deep churning flurry of water hurtling at speed over rocks having gained speed from the mountainous terrain inland. Reaching a ravine I found myself looking at what under normal circumstances would have been a stream,  a wee burn, something that normally I'd be able to cross easily using lodged boulders as stepping stones. Now it had become a dangerous obstacle with a force that could knock you down like a freight train. This would be the first of many type crossings I'd be faced with that day, each obe getting wider, stronger and dangerous. Each time I would have to look for the less dangerous place to cross to minimise the risk and maximize my chances of success. Locating the narrowest place that was easily accessible I stood on the bank with one foot lodged gripping a solid rock, took a deep breath,  picked a landing spot judging where both my feet would fall and where I could grab with my hands to pull myself and my pack in so as not to slip and fall, and with one enormous leap of faith lunged myself across. On some of the crossings I'd have to walk along the torrents and lunge at boulders using my momentum to reach the far banks and on others I found myself doing this above cascading waterfalls. Not having a camera with me was extremely disappointing as I wanted to keep a record of the day and although the hike was tough the rewards for overcoming the challenges were mentally immense and fulfilling. Taking all that nature throws at you and embracing it is particularly satisfying.

After making about half a dozen crossings and a few traverses above the coast I picked up another deer trail. I began to follow it, the muddy trail quite easy to pick out against the greens of the grass and channeled through the heathers.

Walking over a crest I jumped out of my skin when quite unexpectedly a stag stood up in front of me.  It had been sheltering from the weather behind a crest and hadn't heard me coming. It bound away towards the clifftop turning at the edge before heading over a small hill and away. Traversing one last steep slope I began to descend into a birch and oak forest. The air was slightly warmer here and I was being sheltered from the wind and rain which simply hadn't let off at all. I kept descending down, rocks and boulders covered with mosses and other plants. It was like a scene from a fantasy film. It wouldn't have surprised me if I'd come across a unicorn, wicked wich or a fairytale princess.

Then I heard what had become a very familiar sound that day, the roar of water, only this time much louder. It sounded ominous to say the least. As I got closer the sound got louder. When I reached the bank I said to myself "this one could be a bit tricky". Too wide to jump and well the stepping stones were completely submerged. Looking up along the torrent I could see several trees had uprooted and fallen across. Not far from where I was standing was an old, albeit slightly rotting, oak tree. It had obviously been there some time.  I checked whether it was stable and made sure it wasn't too rotten. I then looked for an alternative,  there wasn't any, this would have to do. Challenge accepted. Again I deep breath,  quick plan on how to use the fallen tree as a bridge and without thinking too much about consequences I made my way over, firstly starting down stream and half way across climbing over the trunk to the upstream side. A quick skip to the bank and I was safely across.

I was now really beginning to feel hungry, being wet and cold emphasizing the feeling. Looking around I considered making a fire and stopping for a short break but the woid was wet, everything was wet,  and with no way to split the wood getting a fire going would be difficult if not impossible. I carried on through the woods, small streams trickling pretty much everywhere. I'd walked less than quarter of a mile when I spotted a dry rock face. It was sheltered and although I was mostly protected from the force of the wind whilst in the forest it still managed to blow through,  except here. Here it was sheltered. I looked around for some dry tinder and found some dried grass and leaves. I then began looking for dry kindling of which I found none, and as for a few dry logs you can forget it. My core body temperature was beginning to drop and the cold intensifying so I took out my stove and collecting water from a nearby stream decided to make a cup of tea, with tea bags I'd taken from the bothy, and rehydrate my last meal that I was hoping to have that evening. It did the trick, almost instantly my body began warming up and although I didn't want to move I knew I had too. I put everything away, slung my pack on and began to make my way through the forest.

Climbing through the trees I came across a small gathering of deer. They promptly disappeared though and I continued on my way slowly getting closer to the cliff edge. As I did I could see a strange man made structure on the rocky shore below. I have no idea what it was or what it was used for but there certainly wasn't a road or path leading to it so I couldn't take a closer look and without a camera I couldn't get a photo of it  to investigate it further at a later date. It was fairly modern looking,  a concrete platform with some kind of metal structure on top that looked like it swung.

Leaving the structure to remain a mystery I continued up and out of the forest into long wet and cold grass and into the wind which had eased off a little. My knee was still hurting but there was quite simply nothing I could do about that. Reaching the other side of the grass I hit the forest once again,  a small clump of young silver birch which appeared impenetrable although that was going to stop me. I wound my way through and down another bank into a predominantly oak forest. Climbing down a steep muddy bank I heard an enormous and continuous roar. At the bottom of the bank I walked over to the river that was escaping out to sea. This was going to take some considerable amount of ingenuity and imagination to cross. There was absolutely no way I could jump that far and too be honest I think even a kangaroo would have had problems. There was an enormous oak tree laying across but the upturned roots meant that although you were across the only other way for you to go was back again. It looked like I was cut off. Maybe if it hadn't have rained I could have crossed at the shore line or maybe if the tide was out, which it wasn't. I had no choice I'd have to follow the river up the muddy, moss covered rocky banks and cliff to the top and back until I found a way to cross.

I began my climb from the shoreline,  making sure my boots gripped what ever they could and gradually along the side of the river, or was it just one extremely long cascading waterfall,  maybe several small rivers with lots of cascading waterfalls in between. It didn't matter. I followed the monster back eventually ending up at what can only be described as Scotlands answer to Victoria falls. It wasn't 1.5km wide granted but it was a good 15m wide with gallons of water pouring uniformly over its edge. Quite spectacular I must admit but there was no way I was crossing there. So I continued on up a small rock face climb where at the top I spotted a small metal footbridge up ahead.

I headed over and crossed the footbridge which continued on with a footpath that lead me back towards the coast. At the end of the footpath I found a gate with a sign on it welcoming hikers and passersby to the old stalkers cottage and inviting them to use the porch and garden for a rest and shelter. I went through the gate and into the garden. Among some trees and flower beds there was a small cottage. I went to the front door and opened it up revealing a small porch with an electric kettle, a buscuit tin, tea and coffee. It was precisely what I needed. I went in took my bag off and began to boil some water for a hot drink taking my boits off and ringing my socks out outside. I then got my phone immediately on charge. Seeing the time and looking ahead at the coast I decided I wouldn't be able to get to the next village before nightfall. The sensible thing to do wad to warm up and dry off, fully charge the phone and battery pack and stop the night in the porch out of the weather and hope it cleared up  the following day.