5^th Aug 2014

Spending the night in a derelict farm house is not to be considered luxury by any stretch of the imagination. It was cold and damp. I woke just before 7:30am and looked outside. The sun was trying its best to break through the clouds and the air had warmed up. I went outside to check to see if I'd managed to collect any water in the plastic bag. There was about a mouth full. I sipped the water and packed my gear away before leaving the comfort of the cottage. There was a track that ran down the hill towards the loch I needed to circumnavigate. Deciding that was the easiest way back I headed off.

The track was lined with trees, as I hiked along it I noticed a few cherries on the floor. Figuring they must have fallen from a nearby tree I stopped and looked around. Sure enough there were two cherry trees, both with ripe fruit just low enough to pick. I took a plastic bag from my pack and began to collect them. I had a few handfuls enough to see me through for a short while. I grabbed my pack and set off once more. A little further down the hill I spotted raspberries. I kept walking eating the raspberries off the bushes as I passed and tucking in to the cherries I'd collected. Near the end of the track I came across a stream, it was reasonably fast flowing so once again I stopped and put my bag down. I took out my water bottle and filled it. The water looked a little off colour so I decided to get my stove and make a coffee.

As I sat on my pack and enjoyed my breakfast of cherries and raspberries with coffee the sun broke through the clouds. It looked like it was going to be a lovely day so I reassessed my plans for the day.

After having breakfast and filling my water bottle I headed off on my way following the track over a small field and back down to the saltmarsh below. The tide was out but the water was calm. I took a breather and scanned the silty, muddy bed that lay between me and the channel of water still left in the loch. I was hoping the channel would be just deep enough for me to paddle back up the loch and land on the other side somewhere near the mouth. Cautiously I set off across the mud plotting my route to a small stony island and small sandy dune. The mud was quite firm and when I arrived at the shingle I was pleasantly surprised at how solid it felt beneath my feet. I took another look up the loch, it was going to be over a mile to get to the mouth of the lock but the channel appeared to have some depth. Granted only a foot or so and considerably less in places but I had a good grasp on hoolleys capabilities now and new that I only needed a few inches of clearance in order to not get grounded and stuck. The worse case all I would have to do is wait for the tide to come in and allow the water to lift me should I get stuck.

I unpacked hoolley and got myself ready for the trip. Tieing my pack to the front and dragging the raft to the water I committed myself and hoped all would be well. I climbed in and started off along the channel and up towards the mouth. As I paddled I looked across at the other side looking at the terrain I would have had to hike should I have decided to take the long way round. It was pretty unforgiving and some of the obstacles looked pretty mean. I then glanced over at where I'd hiked the day before thinking to myself how intimidating it looked from where I was now sat. I could see the derelict farm house too and remembered the night I'd spent there and how cold I'd been. Once you've spent a night like that I don't think you ever really forget it especially when you had to filter muddy puddle water in order to hydrate your last meal. At points along my journey paddling up the loch I found myself scraping the bottom and having to lean back in order to improve my clearance. Ahead of me I could see a sandy spit jutting out into the Loch. On it from a distance it looked like there were grounded rowing boats but a I got closer the rowing boats started to move, flapping about and entering the water. They were seals that had been basking in the gorgeous sun and my presence had caused them to seek refuge in the one place seals are able to manoeuvre with the grace of angels. I kept paddling and navigated my way round the spit. I had to constantly keep an eye on the water depth and try and anticipate submerged obstacles as I went. The seals being curious creatures couldn't resist watching and following me as I made my way up the loch. The water nearing the mouth of the loch becoming more and more choppier the closer I got. It had been a good paddle but I did notice with the rocking of the waves that hoolley had deflated a little during the trip. I hoped it was merely the warm air used to inflate her had cooled and compressed but kept the situation in mind none the less.

As I reached the mouth of the loch I wondered if it was possible to keep going. The journey had been fairly uneventful and the conditions seemed fine. I still kept in mind though that if necessary I'd need a place to land. I continued paddling out into open waters wondering if I would be able to make it all the way to Avoch, pronounced Och. Then the weather changed, a strong wind picked up the clouds rolled in and the waters became choppy. I made the decision that it was time to come ashore and hike the rest of the way. There were several places I could land so I picked the one with the easiest landing point and least number of boulders. It was a rocky and stony shore but had a gentle incline making my exit from the water much simpler. I turned the boat in and paddled ashore. Getting out of hoolley I realised how much she had deflated during the trip so after taking the paddles and pack up to a safe distance away from the water I took a moment to check for leaks and punctures. After close inspection I couldn't find anything wrong so decided that the air must have simply cooled and compressed. I packed her away in my pack, swung the pack on my back and set off with the wind at my back which is always preferable to it being head on, especially on a stony beach.

All in all the hike wasn't too bad and I'd certainly had alot worse over the past few months. At the end of the beach and just round the corner I could see Avoch. I needed to access wifi and a cool drink of orange and fresh tap water was definitely on the cards. Coming up from the beach on to a slipway I made my way along the road into the small town. Passing a couple of locals I asked for directions to the local pub, to be honest the directions I was given weren't very good and I've found that on more than one occasion people assume you know where you are and the landmarks they use for orientation. In my case I very rarely even know what town I'm in and have very little knowledge of any landmarks there maybe. Still I managed to find the hotel after a bit of tooing and froing. It was a lovely little place which offered a carvery at very reasonable prices. I decided that after everything I'd experienced over the last few days I would draw some money that I was going to use for rations and treat myself to a sunday roast. As I sat in the restaurant end of the hotel I started chatting with some customers, tge husband had cycled from lands end to john o'groats and was very interested in my journey. I then went to get my carvery from the counter chatting to the carver he put a selection of meats on my plate. Veal, beef, lamb, gammon and chicken. The plate was piled high and I still had to find room to fit two Yorkshire puddings and the veg. It was like a small mountain of food and I wasn't going to waste a single mouth full. It took a while but I eventually cleaned the plate. To say it was the best carvery I'd ever had was no lie. It was amazing and delicious, so good I just wanted to lie down and have and afternoon nap. When I went to pay for the meal I was informed that tge gentleman I'd been chatting to had already paid and treated me. It was a lovely surprise and extremely well received. The managers then took my water bottle currently filled with murky water I'd collected from the stream and my hydration bladder which was completely empty and filled them both with fresh tap water.

Feeling refuelled I set off towards the harbour and out of the town towards Rosemarkie. The weather had now reverted back to a clear sunny day and I found myself slowly removing layer after layer in an attempt to cool down. My back, although empty of rations didn't appear to be any lighter though. I decided it was time to make the pack lighter so I stopped. I discarded the blue nylon rope I'd acquired and ditched my safari shirt, I took the rope stan had given me and cut a few meters off the length and put the rest of it with the other bits. I then swung my pack onto my back and immediately noticed a difference.

Carrying on along the road I entered into the next small village but only briefly, I now had to hike along side a golf course to the lighthouse at the end of the spit adjacent to fort George. This was where I'd previously wanted to cross to a few days earlier. I'd been told that if I timed it right I would have a good chance of seeing dolphins as they often fed nearby and played in the currents. When I arrived at the point I found dozens of people had gathered to catch a glimpse of the water born mammals, kids with pocket cams, teenagers with mobile phones and of course those with expensive cameras and lenses bigger than the ones used by the paparazzi. I took my bag off and sat down on the wall, behind me a large black cloud was forming and threatening to soak us all. After waiting patiently for a while and not even spotting a dorsal fin many of the spotters headed off. I hung around for a little longer before I to decided that maybe I'd missed them. I grabbed my pack and headed round the lighthouse and onto the sandy beachon the other side of the point and started making my way back to land. About half way along the sun came out and I decided to stop to enjoy the view looking along the far coastline at where I'd been some days earlier. As I glanced back up along the beach I noticed something in the water about half way between fort George and the dolphin viewpoint. It soon disappeared but I kept watching anyway. Then it reappeared, this time closer to the beach. I stood up to get a better view, it appeared to be a group of dolphins, popping up and then back down. Abandoning my kit I briskly walked back to the view point to get a closer look. Sure enough it was a pod of dolphins. As I arrived back at the point I noticed another pod, there was much excitement in the air. The group of spotters slowly but surely began to grow. It was a great site to see, watching the dolphins working together to confuse the fish while the others fed. Occasionally you would see them jumping gracefully from the water on after the other and other times two would come from directly beneath in unison like an aquatic acrobatic display. To say it was magical would be an understatement. I stayes there for quite some time hoping to get a few good seconds of film but typically just as I put the camera down that was when the interesting bits happened. You have to fully respect those nature film makers for there patience. Eventually though I managed a half decent clip and was happy then to continue on my way.

On my way back to collect my pack it suddenly occurred to me that someone could have easily thought I'd decided to go for my last swim and call the coastguard. Maybe I should have left a note. Thankfully I didn't see Kessocks lifeboat anywhere and presumed that either no one saw the bag or that they had realised where I was. The pack was about half way along the beach so when I arrived I picked it up and set off quite content towards the town at the end. It was getting late in the evening now so I made the decision to to seek local advice about the next section of the coast. It looked tidal to me and as I neared the end of the promenade a wooden sign confirmed it.

Not far from the promenade was the plough, a local pub built in the 17th century. Quite a small place with the smallest mens room I have ever visited. Quite literally you could only fit two people in there and even then you had to shift round in order to wash your hands. In the bar a young lady was serving and her two friends were cackling with laughter. Almost anything would set them off. One had a serious crush on Christian Bale and kept saying how she liked him in the batman movies and how the town was seriously lacking any potential suitors. I asked about the tides and explained my plans to walk below the cliffs. I was quite pleased to hear that you could get pretty much the whole way along.

After spending a fair bit of time with the girls and chatting to a few of the customers at the bar the sun had set and it was time to go and find somewhere to sleep. I headed down to the beach and finding a small piece of grass near to the cliffs and out of the way I set up camp. Low tide was at 10am and ideally I wanted to set off before then.

5^th Aug 2014

In the morning the sun shone through the tent and I woke from my peaceful slumber. Although I'd wanted an easy day without any adventure, exploration or near death experiences that wasn't going to happen. I knew that for one I had to race the tide along the shore to make sure I didn't get cut off again. What I didn't know was that I would come up with probably the most stupid idea of the trek to date and almost end up having to be rescued.

I climbed out of my tent and made a coffee. I didn't have breakfast as I'd had the last of my rations the night before, luckily though I had been treated to the most delicious and largest plate of Sunday roast I've ever had. My body knew it to and was full of energy. I was ready to make the dash and determined to make good progress and negotiate this stretch of coastline in one continuous attempt. I packed away and made my way down to the salmon pink sands of the beach. Collosous and daunting cliffs rose from the beach with huge boulders scattered as far as the eye could see. The tide was still going out which meant I had a good head start and if I kept the pace up I'd, in theory be ok, I just had to stay focused and ignore the urge to explore the 18 caves I'd been told I'd be passing along the way. Yeah right!

It was a lovely day and as long as the weather didn't change I knew I'd be happy. The sun was out and the calm sea breeze kept me cool. I set off with one thing on my mind, to make it to the headland far off in the distance. It was as far away as the eye could see, which on a clear day is a really long way! To begin with the sand was easy to walk on and the boulders , some as big as garden sheds allowed easy passage between them like small canyons. Then from the corner of my eye I saw an immense opening in the cliff face. Well that was the days plan completely out of the window. I stopped, thought about the implications, made a new plan and set my bag down. I'd been told about the cave and apparently it had been used by cavemen and had still been occupied right up to the second world war. I couldn't pass this chance up. I grabbed my torches and headed in. The entrance was as high as a house and the cave went back quite some distance. The walls were damp and as I made my way through I could feel the drips patting me on the head. I had a good look round wondering if I'd see cave drawings or signs of prehistoric life all the time thinking to my self, I bet that water is good to drink. I didn't try any but did find interesting patterns on the cave walls where over the centuries the water had collected and left residual imprints. After a goid look round but finding no hidden passages decided it was time to regain focus and get back to the trek. I grabbed my pack and set off once more. The boulders were becoming more frequent now and in places had to be climbed in order to pass by. The sandy beach was also gradually being replaced by larger and larger stones. Some how though I managed to resist the urge to dive into the ferns whenever I saw what could potentially have been other caves to explore. With haste I kept going, I knew by now the tide was turning, you can hear it the waters lapping the shore change thier tune. Its hard to describe but I knew now the race was on. The terrain was niw becoming more and more challenging and even the stones were being taken over by large rocks. After slipping a few times I was pleased to be wearing the high ankle boots with awesome grip and now that I'd reduced my pack weight a little found it easier to manoeuvre through the maze of rocks and boulders. As I hiked I kept looking at the cliffs to my right towering above me remembering how I'd felt walking the other side of the Firth looking across and feeling the anticipation. Ferns, bushes and forrests climbed the steep slopes to the top. Ivy hung down like a green drape and my curiosity pondered what it was that was hiding beneath. As I continued along the shore patches of pink sand started to make there way through the red boulders. It looked very similar to the images of mars nasa had publicized and I began to wonder if I'd come across the mars rover as I made my way through the Martian terrain. I'd walked some miles now and a cliff face anomaly fired the imagination. I simply had to satisify the urge, after all smugglers had used some of the caves and what I'd just spotted would have been exactly what they would have potentially considered a perfect hideaway. I went over. Sure enough a tree was obscuring the entrance to a very kool cave, one which by all accounts had definitely served another purpose at some time. I wentvin for a closer look. It wasn't large but it did get wider in side. The perfect location to store contraband. It was close to the shore but dry inside and natural shelving to store the illegal goods.

One thing I've got used to now is the fact that many of these beaches are very rarely visited by anyone. Looking around I wondered if people knew what they were missing, this was a lovely place, peaceful and yet full of energy. Ahead of me the coast started to get crazily tough and awkward. Massive rocks laying beside each other and the only way across was ti simply hop, skip and jump. I started to now wonder if there was perhaps a reason nobody came down, quite simply because there was no way in or out other than where I'd come from. That didn't matter, I wasn't going back no matter what. As I continued on my way I started noticing fossils laying on the floor encased in slate. The reminisce of shells and ammonites, there were dozens it was like tge jurassic coast of Scotland.

After a good mile of negotiating the boulders the coast curved inward and around a blind bend. Was this the end, had I pushed my luck a little. The tide was coming in and it was becoming highly likely that I'd soon be cut off and stranded. It didn't stop me though I kept going and to my astonishment I saw a bothy up on the a bank surrounded by grass and trees. I'd seen a few on my but none were accessible and mostly padlocked. This one was different, a small twig was holding the door closed but the exterior looked clean and well kept. Did someone live there? Would I meet a hermit who'd taken refuge and set up hone there? I went over for a closer look. It was empty and there were printed information boards on the wall. I decided to go in, immediately the smell of fire hit me and a sense of comfort shivered down my spine. I peered in and saw the fire place and above that a shelf with useful items neatly arranged. A half filled bottle of water, tea bags and sugar. There was fire lighting fluid and ketchup. Hanging from the walls were pots and pans and in the hearth an old well used kettle. A lovely rest station. Someone had also left a foam sleeping mat hanging from the rafters. By the window was a make shift bench, a plank nailed to two logs and beside that a small pile of kindling and fire wood. The information boards made interesting reading too. All about the history of the bothy abd its roll in salmon fishing along with detailed information about the fossils that I'd found ealier. It was a fascinating find and lovely break. I was almost tempted to let myself get cut off by the tide abd spend the night and have my first experience staying in a scottish bothy.

Some how I once again managed to resist the temptation, the wanton urge for adventure taking over. I was determined to make my way as far as my eyes could see earlier that day. I picked up my pack and set off back down to the stony shores. About 100 yards further I saw a wooden sign indicating a path up to the clifftops. Surely this wasn't as far as you could go. I wasn't willing to cut the trip short just yet, the beach still continuing ahead of me. I disregarded the information and carried on after all you never know unless you try. Still Clambering over boulders my head down guiding my feet I carried on determined to beat the tides and walk round to Cromarty. As I made my way I plotted a route ahead every now abd then stopping to scope the terrain. About half a mile along I stopped and looked up and to my surprise two rams stood ahead of me. I think they were probably more shocked than me. We all paused and for a moment I think we all felt a little uncomfortable until obe of them darted towards the sea the other promptly following. Well that was unexpected to say the least. It then occurred to me that maybe they'd come from somewhere ahead of me and as a last resort I'd possibly be able to use the same track as them to get to the cliff top. I carried on feeling quite pleased that I'd made it this far the end was now in sight. The problem was though the end was a sheer cliff face that ended in the sea. This was a problem. I looked round to try to identify the track ir trail the rams had used to get to the beach but found myself fruitless in my efforts. I had two choices I could either head back to the bothy or unpack hoolley and attempt to paddle round the headland and hope to find somewhere to land the other side. Obviously I unpacked hoolley and hoped I would be able to land somewhere on the other side.

A very small opening between the rocks leading to the sea was the perfect place to launch from, the waters were calm and there was very little wind. Everything seemed to be in my favour. After getting ready and stowing my pack I climbed in and launched myself into the open waters. I knew the tide was coming in but figured that if I could paddle out passed the rocks at the base of the cliffs I could potentially get round safely. Then it all went a bit sideways. The wind suddenly picked up and the water became extremely choppy. I paddled into the waved, catching the odd surf here and there. The water fighting me and wanting to push me against the submerged rocks and obstacles. The current was extremely strong and at times I wondered if I was in fact making any headway. After a couple of near incidents and near capsizes I found myself wanting to be saved by a passing boat but none came. It was then I realised I may have made a huge misjudgement and that perhaps climbing to the clifftops wasn't such a bad plan afterall.

I carried on regardless, I wasn't going without a fight. I was also at the same time looking for the first opportunity to land the boat whilst also intrigued by the multitude of caves I wish I could have explored. Some looked really inviting although difficult to get too. It was a struggle but I somehow managed to make my way around the headland and spotting a small cove decided to negotiate the rocks and make my way back to shore. I wasn't sure at the time what I would do next but I figured an answer would present itself. Scaling the cliff face maybe or finding calmer waters a little further down. I aimed between two large boulders abd could see avsnall eddy just big enough to fit hoolley and get me to the shore. Being an extremely manoeuvrable boat I easily made the portage and climbed out and onto the shore. My heart was pounding and the adrenaline pumping. What a rush!

I took a minute to relax and reflect. What a stupid plan, but what a great adventure. The problem with being an adrenaline junkie is you simply can't stop yourself from standing on the edge of danger and laughing. After I'd calmed down a bit I packed hoolley away and gathered myself together before setting off to see where I was and how I was going to get myself out of the cove. As I set off I noticed a huge cave opening out to the sea, to me it looked like the mouth of a massive whale, open wide gobbling up the shore. I climbed over a small bank and noticed another bothy, there were also tents and a couple of wooden buildings, one small one high up on the hill side and the other larger one set back from the bothy which looked like a small wooden cottage. Then I saw life. A man with a red and white scarf on his head who wouldn't look out of place in the sahara or middle east. I waved and continued. Then a young girl appeared followed by more children and parents. I started wondering if I'd stumbled on some unusual hippy camp or community. They were extremely inviting and said they'd offer me a tea but they didn't have any water. Well that was something I was carrying. I took out my hydration bladder and handed it over. I was then asked if I wanted any soup they had just made. Well by now I was feeling pretty hungry and gratefully accepted their kind offer. I'd just sat down when a speed boat turned up. That's dad with some water, I was told. Dad turned out to be Dan, a guy I had met whilst passing through whinnyfold sone weeks earlier. I couldn't believe it when they returned from the boat and he followed up behind. The trek never stops amazing me and the number of times I've met people then randomly bump into them again in quite often the most bizarre places.

There were about 11 eager adventurers camping in the cove, Dan and his brother had rebuilt the bothy and used it as a quiet get away with the family. It was a lovely little spot abd I was made to feel very comfy. Dan disappeared into the bothy to get out of his dry suit abd emerged in deer skin shorts and top. He looked like Robinson crusoe, a shipwreck survivor living in the wild. An awesome sight and very much my cup of tea. I had a lovely time meeting all the family and extended family including mum and dad who turned up a little later via a path that had been cut zig zagging its way up the steep banks to the cliff top. I was tempted to stop, Dan showing me a small cave he'd slept in while clearing the site and building the bothy. When I realised the time was still early though I thought I may still have a chance to beat the tide and cross from Cromarty that evening. I asked Dan whether or not it was possible to carry on passed the cove but unfortunately it would lead me to a dead end and he suggested that a climb to the top using the path would probably be the best route. It would certainly be the safer route. Before I left though I was given some lentils, peanuts and a bar of dark chocolate. Dan also broke out tge whisky and we all had a toast. A fantastic break even though it was only a brief stop.

At the top of the slope I found myself surrounded by long grass and ferns. A wooden post indicated a path across the clifftop or ahead directly to the town. The route to the town was easy to see but the path along the clifftops needed some imagination. So I set off along the clifftop.