12th - 13th March

12th March day 371

The sun was now beginning to rise earlier and earlier every day, and it was noticeable. The forecast for the day was well to be frank crappy. I was to expect rain all day but as i peered out from my sleeping bag it didn't look like it would rain in the slightest. It was a bit windy though and gaining strength with every passing minute. I however didn't want to get up just then unfortunately i wantedto get a few good miles in that day aiming for at the very least Auchencairn and if it was possible Kippford. An early start was essential.

Breakfast was a quick affair and packing up equally so although trying to fold the tarp with the winds blowing it about meant being a little resourceful. It still wasn't raining. I left the woods and crossed a couple of fields again through gates, a fantastic invention someone should really introduce around the isle of Whithorn. I then headed down a muddy track between trees sone trees which brought me to a junction. For some reason my guts said turn left but knowing the coast was down to my right i ignored my gut and went with my head.

As the track descended as it twisted between the trees i still wasn't convinced this was the right way to be heading,  i don't know why but it just didn't feel right.

It didn't take long and i could see the shore, the track continued on but there was a kind of path thingy which made for a more direct route. It was almost vertical but someone had  kindly strung heavy rope between the trees to aid my descent.

At the bottom and with a few steps i was on a stony beach looking along, planning my course still trying to convince my gut it was in fact wrong and  that although it would be tough this was still the right direction  to head in.

It felt good being back by the waters edge again after spending a  few days on cliffs or hiking nearby roads. Yes the going was going to be tough, physically and mentally but i felt the rewards would be Olympic. Setting off along the beach i kept an eye on the cliffs ahead. Muttering the words "this could be a mistake" i began to tackle the boulders and slippery rocks I'd now encountered. I  wondered how many times I'd said that and had most definitely now lost count.

The boulders were gradually getting larger the further along i went and i was also now beginning to face enormous slippery plates angled down towards the sea. The tide had also turned and was most definitely coming in. It was no longer a simple case of scrambling over rocks it was very much turning into mini climbs which is all well and good as long as i didn't need to make a hasty retreat. As any climber will tell you "its easier climbing up than climbing down ".

The further i hiked the more slimy and slippery i was finding the rock beds beneath my feet. Crossing one such bed i slipped and didn't stop until i hit a small ridge at the bottom.  There would be absolutely no way i would be able to scramble back up it and started to really hope my gut was wrong otherwise I'd have no other choice but to find an alternative way around this obstacle.
I continued to scramble over boulders, climb ridges and traverse ledges until, thud. My heart skipped a beat. I was to go no further. The tide was racing in and in front of me a climb down i wouldn't be able to manage on my own. Which was a shame because I'd come to the mouth of an enormous cave which beckoned and taunted me.

Thud, then the gravity of the situation struck a cord. I'd need to make my way back over demanding terrain and race against the tide. My gut was right and whats worse i could now find myself in the situation where I'd possibly be cut off from the tide. Under no circumstances was i going to call the rescue services, i got myself into this mess i was going to get myself out of it.

Turning round i now had the problem of not only finding a safe way back to the place I'd started the mornings adventure but also do it before i found myself cut off completely by the tides. It would take me a full hour to get back the stony beach, clambering, climbing and sliding if the rocks and boulders. It was also now beginning to rain, a rainfall that wouldn't let up one bit for the remainder of the day.

With two hours wasted i resigned myself to the fact I'd be spending the rest of the day hiking the fields at the top of the cliffs. Heading back to the steep slope with the rope i now had to climb, the heavens opened up further. I pulled myself up the slope, boots trying their hardest to find grip and using tree roots as hand holds. I then followed the track back up into the woods passing the head of a unicorn immortalised in concrete. The track had now joined a tarmac road or was it somebody's driveway, it didn't matter i found a gate and began the soggy hike across the fields.

The rain was beginning to gather in puddles and divets. The fields were gradually going squidgy, soft under foot, wet under foot. Passing from field to field sometimes passing through gates but often jumping the stone walls and fences all the time avoiding either electrocution but also being impaled or shredded. I thick mist began to descend and the views ahead vanished, engulfed.

I was now beginning to feel a dampness through my jackets and fleeces. I was quite literally wet to the skin. The fields were also worsening the longer i hiked it was quite frankly getting ridiculous. Coming to a road and dense forest blocking my way i headed inland to see where it lead and to see if i could find a quick route around.

Reaching the main road near Auchencairn and rain falling hard i decided to stick to the tarmac to Palnackie. From Palnackie I continued to follow the road to Dalbeattie where i stopped for a hot drink before carrying on to Kippford.

Alison brown had been following the trek and my progress as well as hand  drawing cartoons from photos I'd taken and uploaded to social media. To finally meet alison was quite the experience. Its funny that when interacting with social media friends you always create a picture of them in your mind. I don't think even i had truly expected to meet someone whos real life personality simply doesn't translate in virtual reality. Alison is a truly amazing individual and certainly not somebody you meet everyday.

After checking in to the room alison had arranged at the anchor inn i had a quick bath and hung up my clothes to dry out. I then joined alison in the bar for dinner and a chat. She'd also brought a few goodies,  a parcel from iain from craghoppers, a tube of arnica, new toothbrush, chocolate and other useful items, all very well thought out.

13th March day 372

Unlike the previous day it wasn't a particularly early start to the day. My boots although were drying in front of a radiator were still very wet.

After breakfast and reorganising my kit i left the anchor behind and proceeded to walk along the harbour front across a beach made entirely of sea shells towards Rockcliffe.  It wasn't all shells though, the tide was thankfully out and i was able to walk between the smaĺl boulders scattered along the shore.

Reaching Rockcliffe i left the shores and began to follow the nature trail being somewhat safer than getting stuck in the silty mud flats that make up this coast line. The trail took me around some private gardens and down to Rockcliffe bay. The bay was really quite quaint, sweeping round with sandy beaches and lunar rock formations.

Maybe the sun was getting to me, my bag was lighter,  or it possibly even that i was hallucinating, either way it felt good. It felt like i had a spring in my step. I continued to follow the coastal path to the castle view point where the panoramic views were outstanding.  I  could easily see the coast ahead of me and across to the English coastline stretching across the horizon never appearing to end or for that matter even start. Whats more i could see the landscape I'd just crossed during appalling conditions from a different  point of view,  as the eagle flies.

Looking along the  cliff face and down on the shoreline i had to make the decision whether to go low or high. Remembering the previous days antics and adventures i decided to stick to the coastal path i could see snaking over the sine curves of the peaks and trophs ahead. Maybe my confidence had been battered or that based on my experience coupled with what i had been told I'd simply decided it was simply too risky.

It was a peaceful plod up and over the serpents back all the time looking down on to the beach below like a falcon seeking its prey. The longer i spent looking down and hiking along the more and less convinced i became I'd made the right choice. It was certainly the safest.

Reaching the end of the beach and whilst descending the final slope, except it wasn't, i began to feel more inclined towards the "yes adam good decision" then i passed a narrow footpath coming from the shore. Which meant it was possible to negotiate, you loose.  I wasn't going back i just had to accept that this time good ol gut feeling was waaay out.

As i carried on my way the views continued to be outstanding and it wasn't long before I reached port o warren and beyond that sandyhills. Sandyhills overlooks an enormous expanse of sand while the tide is out. Whilst descending towards port o warren i remembered the invitation I'd been given to call by to visit tim, the gentleman I'd met in the tea pot a few days earlier. Upon pulling out the piece of paper he'd written his address on i realised he didn't live near port o warren but in fact Palnackie a small village I'd passed the day before.

I'd really wanted to hear more about tims travels and his eco friendly shipping company. I sent a text to see if he was still up for a meet, i got a reply and quarter of an hour later he met me in an awesome off road land cruiser, the land cruiser he drove around the world in. We then did something really quite unpressidented, i went back to Palnackie.

Arriving at tims warehouse, head office for the shipping company and home for tim. Apparently it was the oldest building in the village and sat opposite an old port, an ideal location for a shipping company don't you think. Inside the warehouse it was organised chaos with recycled timber, motors and all manor of items carefully distributed around the ground floor. In the far left corner  platform had been built housing a living space above and several bunks below. Tim has a vision, idealistic possibly, insanity most definitely not. It was here i decided to take a couple of nights out from the trek to delve further into the mind of this unique individual.