tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36603956480686955902024-02-19T01:40:40.770+00:00TGO Challenge 2012My TGO Challenge 2012 - Start to Finish, maybeCarl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-55565987424051685602014-11-08T22:59:00.001+00:002014-11-08T22:59:26.766+00:00They grow not weary...<p dir="ltr">This for our forgotten heroes.</p>
<p dir="ltr">On all the oceans white caps flow<br>
You do not see crosses row on row<br>
But those who sleep beneath sea<br>
Rest in peace your countries free</p>
<p dir="ltr">Remembering our merchant seamen.</p>
Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-35104952683750151702014-10-12T19:46:00.001+01:002014-10-13T14:05:02.047+01:00TGO Challenge 2015 - From start to finish, maybe?<div dir="ltr">
The message appeared in my inbox with the heavy thud of a bundle of letters hitting the doormat. It had arrived! Sue and Ali had received my challenge application form and cheque for the 2015 crossings. </div>
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Only a week or so before, I was torn between a very generous offer of an assured place on a team with a 9-timer and applying in my own right. I can't tell you how grateful I was for the offer, nor how tempted I was to ignore my gut feeling and accept it. I kept turning things over in my head. The overriding feeling was that I wanted to walk to my own tune, my own pace and spontaneity. And, in the end, I was prepared to forgo a fine opportunity, and great company, in favour of autonomy. I hope I haven't offended my would-be challenge partner by choosing the gamble of a solo application. I'm pretty sure I have not. </div>
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Back to the moment... ...not this one...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLm-iAPkT4Ar3HTcVubzQWKZvkqqpWPxANCILzDaNbczewiY4Hn6Z6_HnQKVR6f69eb_5h1WUGWmO7FU1Ul3jUTrO8V8POG2MpUMM7oXW6qiT1HuB_yZxk4lW4uMa-VTVn_LVCTojXtkw/s1600/2012-05-15_19-28-22_356.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLm-iAPkT4Ar3HTcVubzQWKZvkqqpWPxANCILzDaNbczewiY4Hn6Z6_HnQKVR6f69eb_5h1WUGWmO7FU1Ul3jUTrO8V8POG2MpUMM7oXW6qiT1HuB_yZxk4lW4uMa-VTVn_LVCTojXtkw/s640/2012-05-15_19-28-22_356.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a>...but the one where I had received THE email. That's it! I'm in the draw at the very least. I was sat in the Howgills with two pals on a hiking (drinking) weekend in my caravan. The weather was fickle, and we had only managed about half the walking we had planned as a result. No matter, I was in the hills.</div>
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So this time next month, I will be eagerly awaiting the second email confirming my place on the challenge. I do hope I shall be fortunate, it's my fortieth year, you see, and I really won't be able to get a pass so easily in any other year. This will be my present, to me, the ultimate gift. </div>
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So yet again I hold everything crossed; fingers, toes, legs, eyes and wires. That darned 'Standby List' looms like an eastward cloud, threatening to offload it's burden of saturation. Or will it pass over without a drop of further waiting? </div>
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Maybe, just maybe, I will make the first draw. </div>
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I'll be back in November with the news. </div>
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I know you can't wait. </div>
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;-)</div>
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Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-35300852561060206622014-08-19T13:48:00.000+01:002014-08-19T13:48:18.890+01:00TGO Challenge - North Water Bridge to St Cyrus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I woke up at a given time on the last day of my inaugural TGO Challenge. A given time that I cannot remember. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I can't even remember whether it was early, or late. I can't remember a thing about the packing up and setting off. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I do remember the 'roulette' crossing of that bloody awful dual carriageway and heading along the roads and lanes, flanked on one side by agriculture, and the other by Dave (PC) Pickles. The fields were nice, but Dave's company was fine. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqplIJ_f0xkv-oYwo583KxuOZHqW6F5tUeEwO0vQGm6RRS8sEudMYZwk5fE-z6I3sNEYgGVtg8hoO0-4m8o69738rAU86peGzhffUuUb_Ca_K74nK-tfV2XvaEMtDxMpfrvQCk9TB053o/s1600/2012-05-24_09-52-03_896.jpg" height="298" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wish these Scots would make their mind up. That's Dave, by the way.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqplIJ_f0xkv-oYwo583KxuOZHqW6F5tUeEwO0vQGm6RRS8sEudMYZwk5fE-z6I3sNEYgGVtg8hoO0-4m8o69738rAU86peGzhffUuUb_Ca_K74nK-tfV2XvaEMtDxMpfrvQCk9TB053o/s1600/2012-05-24_09-52-03_896.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></a> </div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> We bumped into some friendly locals, so I asked the way...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivDXQ78ygDn-q45Waw1lJUPRM4QCV4iDPxBGpHicqj_zTLOjr-_RxUhUbfGMG8IcYmAyEhu7CibJPamEEGcEUOOtlih_bii5ueIROHLYqcA2pg5ytHelKogqlOOULmchNOeb29Aev4Zso/s1600/2012-05-24_10-25-35_178.jpg" height="298" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Friendly locals.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Arriving at the sign for St Cyrus was, for me, slightly choking. I gulped back the emotion of the moment. You see, this had been my longest backpacking hike to date. Six days was my previous farthest. I could have carried on for days - I was really in to the swing of it. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy0BPJTdqcAZ0evbSYlZPW7h8UhYZrwkBasSw1K4gLYCGdF1uYpHcpiXF9YWG-p0wtoh8YHirnTKeKOWc_Zi5h4g0pyzpxgQyxrkw1WUOz7CH4KhfwsPk-by11x1l9_y9Q7YhreO18ODU/s1600/2012-05-24_11-12-56_437.jpg" height="298" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St Cyrus - Pickled.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkupibjjIR75czOKTayaK4YC3cRgLEGsC1GgKXJ49qHRLSN0uUdejr8GwrcQ7tswAYF5E143VBLbWTZudFTF2m70eH0PiUqc5I3kEFVf7jCOVm6lAc9HstDRpDxKRHAzypmpmkzDEGK2c/s1600/2012-05-24_11-13-17_611.jpg" height="298" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What the f*** do I look like? - That's rhetorical, by the way. Thank you.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkupibjjIR75czOKTayaK4YC3cRgLEGsC1GgKXJ49qHRLSN0uUdejr8GwrcQ7tswAYF5E143VBLbWTZudFTF2m70eH0PiUqc5I3kEFVf7jCOVm6lAc9HstDRpDxKRHAzypmpmkzDEGK2c/s1600/2012-05-24_11-13-17_611.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></a><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Dave and I were on a mission, and I seem to remember us having an amusing and silent 'race' with Ian Cotterill. I'm not sure if I remember this right, but I reckon we won. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUbqVKgEGjy6KUYeKFWPqSmdBz73ICZlxM7xBw68y-v4dni8KMfcbJNmqib9v3nZQJ3ktO7y3k_zbjZ_Cysko-MrH57R2DLignj_Ax5ZLDfcaEA-nNqyyjf2FQTeLDhB5AX8VlahUPues/s1600/2012-05-24_11-22-10_553.jpg" height="298" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The final strait? </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUbqVKgEGjy6KUYeKFWPqSmdBz73ICZlxM7xBw68y-v4dni8KMfcbJNmqib9v3nZQJ3ktO7y3k_zbjZ_Cysko-MrH57R2DLignj_Ax5ZLDfcaEA-nNqyyjf2FQTeLDhB5AX8VlahUPues/s1600/2012-05-24_11-22-10_553.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></a> </div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I've seen lots of coastlines in my time, and lots that look like St Cyrus too. I have never felt anything like the feelings I had when I saw the bay here at St Cyrus. It was more than just a bay. More than a beach. It was an accomplishment, and achievement. The end of a challenge.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwb7lEYiLEesjK1jjILuJi-jQePGsF8-arfHSmcTwFyZT__C0koPTp6M_Sp6H76_Jl1VJFh38VIcCt6YGOjRqnKs2CGcoizwBrPshLNYx8O-pr0djEGSluc_TwFINHpBhGiRdzCsMwy4s/s1600/2012-05-24_11-24-52_404.jpg" height="298" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dave atop the cliffs at St Cyrus</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We carried our packs all the way down to the beach, unlike some naughty little tikes who seem to still have a bit of the challenge to finish. You know who you are!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFePAlA4kxyn8RAlVnMFs4htMcsXqymPrKRPXInzuakmMlH02q6dzLf3rMti4Rk_Fe29f6-DRaw7aOJ7ufVhswEu6yMAe_d2D1CimNUpQNTuKdOASGitoZjT1qNr4nIprUaLNKFjlSqF4/s1600/2012-05-24_11-36-03_377.jpg" height="300" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The waters of St Cyrus.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFePAlA4kxyn8RAlVnMFs4htMcsXqymPrKRPXInzuakmMlH02q6dzLf3rMti4Rk_Fe29f6-DRaw7aOJ7ufVhswEu6yMAe_d2D1CimNUpQNTuKdOASGitoZjT1qNr4nIprUaLNKFjlSqF4/s1600/2012-05-24_11-36-03_377.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></a><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I dashed into the water with my shoes, sock and trousers still in situ. I had made it. For me it was a real achievement. I had always dreamed of completing a long distance path like the Pennine Way, or the Icknield Way - something longer than 100 miles, and through the hills. This was far better, for me, than doing a waymarked route. It was my route and it had been a ball.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Here follow some pictures on the beach. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju3sI3Uck2hTepiKI1cm8f3HrJw0s6kXMTXQ44t8ZP2pEwzLf6UoDNrOwyIzftYUcZykfWiAXLvjBHkhjcTe294cHgnYQspdleywSKUn-vYnILxWfXATJMPyNcKJGnBXuC1ZxX61T5czY/s1600/2012-05-24_11-38-05_237.jpg" height="298" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, a bit lighter than at the start.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0iwLdCKiGlJHIFYjbRVptfcuofzMs6-hC8uUc4UdSAiriykjEoawz0fDKtdb-_bzd2pjO0XpCSRETu35hRvGmoObkUq4uvif9VRv8SeKoiBm-5pC7yldLkZ1CXJoVW3Ga-67XKzKcLQ/s1600/2012-05-24_11-38-33_84.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0iwLdCKiGlJHIFYjbRVptfcuofzMs6-hC8uUc4UdSAiriykjEoawz0fDKtdb-_bzd2pjO0XpCSRETu35hRvGmoObkUq4uvif9VRv8SeKoiBm-5pC7yldLkZ1CXJoVW3Ga-67XKzKcLQ/s1600/2012-05-24_11-38-33_84.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">P.o.W.?</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAY1OYGBGjJ2i2W6mljZGJQswsTRmvdIRUMfpFGhjheSrCOqKw5roHX90TY-U0EHfCqeYVxY_vzibr59vjY-HQWZUPC9tPEOi1m8qP6ep0yITWbDRwPOfTdupm_sTmGt9jXqaquJeKAfQ/s1600/2012-05-24_11-38-57_551.jpg" height="298" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Poolers (centre frame)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirb9Fs2kM-Fh2dy9EsHiLREAG_lz7zAbCrOEFl43OP7I4HA3UCwi2KaU0lcTAoXW-5f_NjK9lP6OQyVK53NazF6M1OlbwC-knbYkxKaAQobAchQttZuBmIQyWE1cEb85dUYenHfvT3l4Y/s1600/2012-05-24_11-47-41_307.jpg" height="298" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ian Cotterill, Isabel, Lynsey, Alan, Andrew, Dave - in that order.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirb9Fs2kM-Fh2dy9EsHiLREAG_lz7zAbCrOEFl43OP7I4HA3UCwi2KaU0lcTAoXW-5f_NjK9lP6OQyVK53NazF6M1OlbwC-knbYkxKaAQobAchQttZuBmIQyWE1cEb85dUYenHfvT3l4Y/s1600/2012-05-24_11-47-41_307.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></a><br /></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dave, a chap whose name I do not know, Freddie - with vino. And a boot.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bryan "Quadriped" Waddington. Another, VERY, nice bloke.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A circle in the sand - with some names in it. Including MINE.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rob Hausam and Mr Pickles vandalising the beach.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">On arrival at the park, there were a lot of bags hanging around. It seems impossible to me that no one picks up the wrong bag. By this stage in the game, one's rucksack is like a family member, a removable bodypart. It's like an extension of one's self. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">It was bally nice knowing I wouldn't have to carry it all day for a while.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit-yw-FNZ05qz5kKwA5OaBN7kwT9Hkq_tiXXigmSgEoc0tgApvtSyq5iYNOxPO5F-PSPrY_mwkrLojGV4BrEPHqlLldhOS3nwuBOpC2jsE4d511eXdSggY5KR3ShCyIUXQ_FXGjNF8Xic/s1600/2012-05-24_13-54-49_728.jpg" height="298" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baggage Reclaim</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXgafkJa5N01lGchIdh0VnRlKXavy40L0v5QfBySJcsrrznealdwOAPDF8wP6FkZMPIGE0HpCIgxj6FdmlDRDMQi4ghyphenhyphenBZkC5L6e4fGll7ABS0drbGLtUXVEACUIxeGW-CczY3sbiQ1_w/s1600/2012-05-24_13-54-59_852.jpg" height="400" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="298" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Visit control in the Kinnaird Room. Up-bloody-stairs!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Most of the lovely, and not so lovely faces I had met along the way had were in the bar at the Park that evening. I was originally due to go for a curry with Andy Howell and some others instead of finishing my challenge with the post-challenge dinner. However, I was rightly advised by Lynsey P that as it was my first challenge, I really should attend the dinner. I asked at the desk, and yes! There were some spaces available - and even Alastair, who hadn't crossed in this challenge, managed to get a place at the table. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNZswAwdzmERccYSb94kXAhVb0nv3vRBu5CSRuMzuw48bnegIrwtSlXXUPxyZIVoIVr_HPAwlNeUjYiFnmwpf-O8YI34kSHEGjV4V_AWJRz0K4c7u2UFqoHUHMtoaZu0BV8CxPISPUuAE/s1600/2012-05-24_18-26-48_182.jpg" height="400" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="298" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a man you just want to hug. Every day.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I finally met Judith (@aroundthehills) which was great. A very cheeky, and lovely (have I used that word too much about these challenge folk?) lady who I'd exchanged some internets with over the preceding year or so. That had happened a lot during the challenge. @s and #s and nicknames, all become real after an age of just pixels on a screen.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyJZ8t8QMRkFav18wb06Qw1B660HMbzaITcsebuu9vguH2kbTX47IbgNe6eD2RGaoZDwCgXKAdJZokkSKGmEUS7WeVRsIKonD91SHYi-4JVf-SkbXTYgLPltdp4UF05xNI2mV0nhrE85k/s1600/2012-05-24_19-16-56_71.jpg" height="298" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An infusion of challengers.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I ended up being sat with people who I now count as friends, some of them I have walked with since. Andrew, and Alan, the Poolers. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRSV2ZQnDhUPU8TJ5Ou4X1TVs6eHMAfDhsnXrGhBw2Oq30hsoz4YOmnAsE1iuHDZVaqACAwPxrEma54r55aMZP7Vyscf7jyHEXk4ajCN6BmHBrF_GRZpPx7sx4h9dsvQrvNWw3RAjrFk/s1600/2012-05-24_19-19-10_287.jpg" height="298" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How I ended up with this lot, I'll never know.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKzQ6QBVH1a-ZqtG0gnDbtV9GNWjkojhteEa7X13lxA_g42KZhKYWmVWLgdq5PPwSyQWx2nQuy540swM42V9C-t1W2ZI-2VVJEFIi2XAKXATw4JT6YqQa6b0A6sTQeYLKGkksh5_o7cw/s1600/2012-05-24_19-19-16_119.jpg" height="298" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This lot are much nicer. :-)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pooler-riffic!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYcAlyjLw8B38GJCKNxdUpsF5nupwvc_9A5nUnAaBbKSkUU7b4qP8heKRWKxwJU1tgJZ5pZg_qBDAmZrcAHyF4KUVGVlKG5a3KVEI7KJgocCvA65m8baQJLnA5gee9uXUhj7iNhYrSKG8/s1600/2012-05-24_23-59-24_606.jpg" height="298" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A nice photo to end a lovely journey.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I suppose I should reflect a bit here, it is customary to do so. I don't think that is necessary though. My challenge was good, in so many ways, but overall the people make it what it is. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">As far as this report goes, it's over now. Thanks for bearing with me, and thanks to everyone who I met on the challenge for making the experience what it was.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Next stop - TGO Challenge 2015: Application time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span>Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-86676363550573754352014-08-17T09:52:00.000+01:002014-08-17T09:52:01.317+01:00TGO Challenge 2012 - Tarfside to North Water Bridge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bacon butties and egg sarnies were on offer in the kitchen of St Drostans. I had two.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">And a mug of tea too.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Others missed out because they were tardy. It was their fault. Right, Andrew?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">I don't really remember what time I got going after breakfast but it wasn't early for sure. I'd been warned about bridges over the River Esk being 'a bit iffy', and the first one I reached confirmed those reports, the sign was very clear. It pretty much said "Cross and you will die". They were wrong.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">With wanton abandon I walked, gingerly, across the decaying planks. They creaked a little, but I managed to escape with my life.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">In spite of my very clear memories of the preceding day, the detail of this section is hazy at best. I find myself needing to look at my maps now, just to remember the route. I followed the route on the south of the Esk, pretty much hugging the banks after the bridge at Woodhaugh.</span><div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQgy39o-GCGelRV33ewA4pXDai0o9oIb_7Y8XqXN15vBUmbt9v8f93HM_6hN9X7k7N97mOd1LxUXbKmRMiLzuFYEdWgdqSahatc0at9meSQZzk-hkbNWU_WhpW6INdTWEm5DYAiWglkk/s1600/2012-05-23_09-16-50_347.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQgy39o-GCGelRV33ewA4pXDai0o9oIb_7Y8XqXN15vBUmbt9v8f93HM_6hN9X7k7N97mOd1LxUXbKmRMiLzuFYEdWgdqSahatc0at9meSQZzk-hkbNWU_WhpW6INdTWEm5DYAiWglkk/s1600/2012-05-23_09-16-50_347.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Leaving St Drostan's</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj8jI5bVPrqz9YCC6DImEj0AvmFxdCUE1dFLsFAuBCzYknxeE5BF1tiseInrMBPVqoj0Tmd0Gh4gqMUFDlwgIXsZZkDaFEoJwVTWFyqOitCYmqg3bTwcxxUcOfZt-dkWt8s6EDUS-DzRw/s1600/2012-05-23_09-30-32_879.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj8jI5bVPrqz9YCC6DImEj0AvmFxdCUE1dFLsFAuBCzYknxeE5BF1tiseInrMBPVqoj0Tmd0Gh4gqMUFDlwgIXsZZkDaFEoJwVTWFyqOitCYmqg3bTwcxxUcOfZt-dkWt8s6EDUS-DzRw/s1600/2012-05-23_09-30-32_879.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The banks of the Esk</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); white-space: pre-wrap;">It was another superb day as far as the weather was concerned. In fact, since leaving Braemar there had been nothing but sunshine and clear skies on the trail. To say that we were lucky would be an understatement. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); white-space: pre-wrap;">I 'leapfrogged' with several challengers along the banks. Many of them were folk I had not seen before. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br />Every now and then, I would see one of these traps. They don't make me happy. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeOyosCbp3CJ6ep5arYJUse_1Uzu6b8DtvKYT2A4P38nzG65Q4SxfZtWNbF5yiD7bhWt7PGUFRIOEG7g6Dmt1ZiWtBdm_Z47Q_tOjDTFvOwpQG4sej42KBHDxkmWB29q9ucB2BOSoF4V8/s1600/2012-05-23_10-48-27_361.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeOyosCbp3CJ6ep5arYJUse_1Uzu6b8DtvKYT2A4P38nzG65Q4SxfZtWNbF5yiD7bhWt7PGUFRIOEG7g6Dmt1ZiWtBdm_Z47Q_tOjDTFvOwpQG4sej42KBHDxkmWB29q9ucB2BOSoF4V8/s1600/2012-05-23_10-48-27_361.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">:-(</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgxI_vJZhGFVZoK8D7PaYm25OfY1EHLLRZ1juimTwVpki-w_0O6hhlKR2H-vfycsMLxtCvB26WB2nAy7r550WV2gwRfEOwIa8anV8aOwECfrr5wEirQDxnQVk89jaUVaHElScmKDaQpBs/s1600/2012-05-23_10-57-32_448.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgxI_vJZhGFVZoK8D7PaYm25OfY1EHLLRZ1juimTwVpki-w_0O6hhlKR2H-vfycsMLxtCvB26WB2nAy7r550WV2gwRfEOwIa8anV8aOwECfrr5wEirQDxnQVk89jaUVaHElScmKDaQpBs/s1600/2012-05-23_10-57-32_448.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think this is a 'Martin bank. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5D7PrHZiLFG-1ud2b-QNq_kP-kOqHBGsbeY1OR2ZCpWEwPwidYRKR1hfzAlxkou-Mz0owF94C03PRwW8fbMqyAea00UYJKGqfqjq8d7ZFwARkNQHG4WJcgY1w1eP7oyMXSPoqAWD8ZWM/s1600/2012-05-23_11-12-52_431.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5D7PrHZiLFG-1ud2b-QNq_kP-kOqHBGsbeY1OR2ZCpWEwPwidYRKR1hfzAlxkou-Mz0owF94C03PRwW8fbMqyAea00UYJKGqfqjq8d7ZFwARkNQHG4WJcgY1w1eP7oyMXSPoqAWD8ZWM/s1600/2012-05-23_11-12-52_431.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I thought this was a nice bridge.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzjlp1b-9H2cF5d1QAnxg2SqG5MmklfB4j5g4jvqZju0DiWT__ycLetUYp8pWq538JFpp6hQGK-bq8TjQpd_1NynfscUOUSvm0fdlR15AKx9Ii6l9w21wR3nHXJd5w0f775AoxcbTCaac/s1600/2012-05-23_11-12-57_368.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzjlp1b-9H2cF5d1QAnxg2SqG5MmklfB4j5g4jvqZju0DiWT__ycLetUYp8pWq538JFpp6hQGK-bq8TjQpd_1NynfscUOUSvm0fdlR15AKx9Ii6l9w21wR3nHXJd5w0f775AoxcbTCaac/s1600/2012-05-23_11-12-57_368.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Other than the hills, it is a lot like Suffolk. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja4rHk5i4TAXLSmLlpEanpR6eNLdUoBDnt5Rg0mWLsimYhTbP74woWRaTHa2TnXtZS2mJfMp64c2ArR_iE7I-bK93V8HcI2VKUPNdJJFjYTUlHU4QOKO1niiIf53mlqCplzQaZsKjOYA0/s1600/2012-05-23_13-54-22_313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja4rHk5i4TAXLSmLlpEanpR6eNLdUoBDnt5Rg0mWLsimYhTbP74woWRaTHa2TnXtZS2mJfMp64c2ArR_iE7I-bK93V8HcI2VKUPNdJJFjYTUlHU4QOKO1niiIf53mlqCplzQaZsKjOYA0/s1600/2012-05-23_13-54-22_313.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Dad would have liked to see this.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD2Je7bU1xnzRAlNYV3yH8BR-HlGRhB9fi-ujkWq_wQCGnL14VHKPBzcfc7g3exZBMUzC1spEmxWLDcKvU-aP-X0kkaGNPzj21kn-CN0TxIg9-xzdJMYQRBpoSEAYD87nX6_BO4w23LKw/s1600/2012-05-23_13-56-36_265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD2Je7bU1xnzRAlNYV3yH8BR-HlGRhB9fi-ujkWq_wQCGnL14VHKPBzcfc7g3exZBMUzC1spEmxWLDcKvU-aP-X0kkaGNPzj21kn-CN0TxIg9-xzdJMYQRBpoSEAYD87nX6_BO4w23LKw/s1600/2012-05-23_13-56-36_265.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A lot... </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRGgfFmCqSrsleU-TDXBgKVlxZrK6W3RZFutIfPBSMMstlWard75Dy0pt6bp0TiVUVhbDhjgT-SW-vMKCFmNc-chav8bkjzZ8kuXwi0qeVAl_xT7dWk7Z2a9vH3Brc2F4WE3e5aEuhxj8/s1600/2012-05-23_13-56-40_886.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRGgfFmCqSrsleU-TDXBgKVlxZrK6W3RZFutIfPBSMMstlWard75Dy0pt6bp0TiVUVhbDhjgT-SW-vMKCFmNc-chav8bkjzZ8kuXwi0qeVAl_xT7dWk7Z2a9vH3Brc2F4WE3e5aEuhxj8/s1600/2012-05-23_13-56-40_886.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...like...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhViu6aMCz3e9zQIyEoS1avhopZqYAaldha3rTDkgS6KUV63l9uswac1Yl5DH5VNyAQDKOtRADgFXppJ9Z1Gc0a52gx_kGXd3r_WVdT94VUwjZfNMw6W05nNDMymE9EBqNkJzo7oQhj0bo/s1600/2012-05-23_13-56-54_679.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhViu6aMCz3e9zQIyEoS1avhopZqYAaldha3rTDkgS6KUV63l9uswac1Yl5DH5VNyAQDKOtRADgFXppJ9Z1Gc0a52gx_kGXd3r_WVdT94VUwjZfNMw6W05nNDMymE9EBqNkJzo7oQhj0bo/s1600/2012-05-23_13-56-54_679.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...Suffolk.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">As I said, I leapfrogged a few challengers, most of them unknown to me, apart from Jane Egg. Most were unknown, until I reached Edzell, that is. It was like Braemar in terms of the sheer weight of TGO'ers. Batallions of rucksacks lined up outside many shops and watering holes.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhso_V3JJzfFDjAh0r3XyUkXabc9knO3X86jZwfGJIE_JcNglfINXahneC6shxBLlDMqEcjuZMNtW0s5zyfdZBS7XIITthU90k84YlAO-fBrTeJzZ3l-91QukEgErbO2FXAZGuvCZf0I0I/s1600/2012-05-23_14-15-36_881.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhso_V3JJzfFDjAh0r3XyUkXabc9knO3X86jZwfGJIE_JcNglfINXahneC6shxBLlDMqEcjuZMNtW0s5zyfdZBS7XIITthU90k84YlAO-fBrTeJzZ3l-91QukEgErbO2FXAZGuvCZf0I0I/s1600/2012-05-23_14-15-36_881.jpg" height="400" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add caption</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">First things first - an army marches on its stomach, or so they say. I sat down for a high tea of fish and chips followed by cake at the Tuck Inn café. Very nice it was too. Although I did feel a tad over-full.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE892tL6SPSv-2yfuvrUgXyZ2MfYoifqN9hlthuMbPxTogwqU9RybDp8vzk3PhjiFefCbqvCg-faNbn0ITxpqSxX2gx4fCUrZjIwN_R24CArj8_QoAen8JPwcjrw9cv77JAheJKO_3f1Q/s1600/2012-05-23_15-16-53_798.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE892tL6SPSv-2yfuvrUgXyZ2MfYoifqN9hlthuMbPxTogwqU9RybDp8vzk3PhjiFefCbqvCg-faNbn0ITxpqSxX2gx4fCUrZjIwN_R24CArj8_QoAen8JPwcjrw9cv77JAheJKO_3f1Q/s1600/2012-05-23_15-16-53_798.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eddy and Alastair Hunt in that order.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lindsay Jones had a Cucumber and was eating it like it was a stick of rock. It wasn't odd at all. She had also burned her arm somehow. The girl is a liability, but very sweet and likeable, all the same.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg52uBiZXsfrP5vUKkS53OQR7Z5BJ8M_-i4xxzKrenIX8LQb4fu6jtj6c_EdjmIIIHrQEo4ATsoXk26UXXML4xZi-iL_5Dhb2NxwTBA9DuvCb5hjwSs6t_NJoP95xpNkpRHAyg49-zCT7w/s1600/2012-05-23_15-17-03_842.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg52uBiZXsfrP5vUKkS53OQR7Z5BJ8M_-i4xxzKrenIX8LQb4fu6jtj6c_EdjmIIIHrQEo4ATsoXk26UXXML4xZi-iL_5Dhb2NxwTBA9DuvCb5hjwSs6t_NJoP95xpNkpRHAyg49-zCT7w/s1600/2012-05-23_15-17-03_842.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I told you. She had a cucumber.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHWS-Xw4U8rPBjsE0D5qx_O2AiEEeeJ2qsbWM5MPLN0pQw6bjviahB-TLw_yVYOlMtXQmei8xrXEYvF3n4JVjSok7GiqB7y98eaP0S996rrTbVuafl7rAxCWtzk_r-Q65t1OywvScIEP4/s1600/2012-05-23_15-24-08_710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHWS-Xw4U8rPBjsE0D5qx_O2AiEEeeJ2qsbWM5MPLN0pQw6bjviahB-TLw_yVYOlMtXQmei8xrXEYvF3n4JVjSok7GiqB7y98eaP0S996rrTbVuafl7rAxCWtzk_r-Q65t1OywvScIEP4/s1600/2012-05-23_15-24-08_710.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still can't remember the name of that pub.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8WWNtZVkIAiqTEQD8Lw_8FW9iVPFgbFeSSl_MsVb-ws7KUUaDYvhpx4wnBv5Eobjc9QN_6iAmmVd4rk54gyDXijgB5iecEZ4hpnn8S35a-qUiFZGSoaZklsYQ88rKGcVtTSGlM6lVTxU/s1600/2012-05-23_15-28-02_588.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8WWNtZVkIAiqTEQD8Lw_8FW9iVPFgbFeSSl_MsVb-ws7KUUaDYvhpx4wnBv5Eobjc9QN_6iAmmVd4rk54gyDXijgB5iecEZ4hpnn8S35a-qUiFZGSoaZklsYQ88rKGcVtTSGlM6lVTxU/s1600/2012-05-23_15-28-02_588.jpg" height="400" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ngomu aka 'Charles' - a very great man.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); white-space: pre-wrap;">I messed around getting supplies, including some Tennants Super, for the evening at North Water Bridge, for I had heard that there was no boozer nearby and what better than 9% rocket fuel? Right, Lynsey?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); white-space: pre-wrap;" /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">I drifted off after a few beers at the pub whose name escapes me, walking alone over the impossible to find bridge and along the roads, through farmland and here and there, finally strolling into North Water bridge with some challengers whose names escape me still. I wish I had written notes after Braemar. Next time I will. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">I promise.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">There was a bit of messing about and waiting for pitches as I recall. But the site was good enough and I am sure that they enjoyed a bumper revenue that day. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1vUmjlYuhyj0xkZP_BIy7lzxjlV06yL1swmT0ew7CdSmerYXhxSbmA_5JTpDCEfmu4ArhHT3NDRf9C2jifyrEWVcMt69BhOfRh7sTmxWWzh3X6DtRWIFhza0k3YZy8rVgF2JRptRBsAA/s1600/2012-05-23_18-24-27_599.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1vUmjlYuhyj0xkZP_BIy7lzxjlV06yL1swmT0ew7CdSmerYXhxSbmA_5JTpDCEfmu4ArhHT3NDRf9C2jifyrEWVcMt69BhOfRh7sTmxWWzh3X6DtRWIFhza0k3YZy8rVgF2JRptRBsAA/s1600/2012-05-23_18-24-27_599.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Encampment at North Water Bridge</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VFDc33IBB4Z06ljYyxEjccKBhyPJhN2DmLw6Ec5Unxbpe0YEBM-PNXghdG6ypeJF05L-QXxWVT49WVDVAHGuRVHhbTT9uLGNsBOcB__72Rqel1VHSWQWZ98nHBtc63Jhyphenhyphen-qQILQa7FI/s1600/2012-05-23_21-36-57_719.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VFDc33IBB4Z06ljYyxEjccKBhyPJhN2DmLw6Ec5Unxbpe0YEBM-PNXghdG6ypeJF05L-QXxWVT49WVDVAHGuRVHhbTT9uLGNsBOcB__72Rqel1VHSWQWZ98nHBtc63Jhyphenhyphen-qQILQa7FI/s1600/2012-05-23_21-36-57_719.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Down shot.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqYI8pUG0VN7J7V_TLAuyFyTz7qeBVP9tCrdEfTqGkGIDBThdnYV50PqiLIj3ksQ5j9d-JtG87P7irBe6Rohd5UW4a3NsPWOA8e99X_lLGdMLGpblB4vpRd1yB9qgqoToUVMFzQ044jjg/s1600/2012-05-23_21-37-18_316.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqYI8pUG0VN7J7V_TLAuyFyTz7qeBVP9tCrdEfTqGkGIDBThdnYV50PqiLIj3ksQ5j9d-JtG87P7irBe6Rohd5UW4a3NsPWOA8e99X_lLGdMLGpblB4vpRd1yB9qgqoToUVMFzQ044jjg/s1600/2012-05-23_21-37-18_316.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More tents.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGgzB96wTwz5qsalg5UzSxcVNRqeIiUzA2FqILgv44-L_lAUPa8_tRyupfw_tD7QwRarSArI-7hGkZFZxsFwRrJ9Idva_cLn3uaUdkcOXyP2Jzk0txZsFlzDXWrRF6HVGeAK25i9N8siM/s1600/2012-05-23_20-06-03_955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGgzB96wTwz5qsalg5UzSxcVNRqeIiUzA2FqILgv44-L_lAUPa8_tRyupfw_tD7QwRarSArI-7hGkZFZxsFwRrJ9Idva_cLn3uaUdkcOXyP2Jzk0txZsFlzDXWrRF6HVGeAK25i9N8siM/s1600/2012-05-23_20-06-03_955.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In case anyone needed proof that we do actually walk...</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">I scoffed about 3 mountain meals having brought far too many with me, and after washing and brushing again (two days in a row with sanitation? luxurious!!) I set about doing some socialising. I met David Lintern, we had exchanged a few words on social media before the challenge and I introduced myself. David is simply a very nice man. Easy to talk to. Utterly inoffensive, wise, and charming. He is also very very talented. So pop over to </span><a href="http://www.davidlintern.com/" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #6611cc; cursor: text; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank">www.davidlintern.com</a><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to see what I mean. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">I established myself at one of the picnic benches on site, and set my cans of 'Super' on the table. There were gasps all around, and the mockery began. I was forced by Lynsey & Alastair to drink a bottle of real ale to redress the balance, and Ian Cotterill convinced me to sample some of his 'cask strength' Laphroaig. Now, I don't usually like those peaty western malts, but the setting seemed to make it go down much more easily. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Having no booze to return the favour, I later recalled that I had carried 5 or 6 100g bars of Lindt chocolate from Strathcarron and had hardly touched any of it. I opened the packets and laid them on the table, breaking them into pieces for all to share. After Jane Egg had had her fill, the rest of us picked a few crumbs for ourselves. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">As you can see from this photograph of an Akto, there was a stiff wind that evening. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJhBraQ7ZTorC2SvZ00AV-S7Uw2C_IKY6nLvMUF6952ToTxko5V3q4CUH980hPqqknvpGS5w4r7Bf3nyNZLpTag74GILtXF9IUAx6tAn7wB0nlt1_WBihzP9G2pXCHemB4sF7n72zI2qY/s1600/2012-05-23_22-14-54_234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJhBraQ7ZTorC2SvZ00AV-S7Uw2C_IKY6nLvMUF6952ToTxko5V3q4CUH980hPqqknvpGS5w4r7Bf3nyNZLpTag74GILtXF9IUAx6tAn7wB0nlt1_WBihzP9G2pXCHemB4sF7n72zI2qY/s1600/2012-05-23_22-14-54_234.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hoolie</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHuSbGVuwYsU-EDQrGMnhnw0y7_1-AT_qkww1lIxL1CB6lMWr53f2d8WVjJ1toFsnaGYJbg2myas27xDCNdlHqzw8cHqfZ-ddAY0e08zPp8aLdD66ZThxLbe5GSFmKQO1OfWmdq9Qm9lQ/s1600/2012-05-24_07-42-33_307.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHuSbGVuwYsU-EDQrGMnhnw0y7_1-AT_qkww1lIxL1CB6lMWr53f2d8WVjJ1toFsnaGYJbg2myas27xDCNdlHqzw8cHqfZ-ddAY0e08zPp8aLdD66ZThxLbe5GSFmKQO1OfWmdq9Qm9lQ/s1600/2012-05-24_07-42-33_307.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lynsey was running out of Nature Valley bars.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); white-space: pre-wrap;">We each drifted off to our pits for a much-needed sleep. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.8); white-space: pre-wrap;">Tomorrow would be 'St. Cyrus day'.</span></span></div>
Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-18082966117200988692014-08-14T22:50:00.006+01:002014-08-15T07:28:07.654+01:00TGO Challenge 2012 - Shielin of Mark to Tarfside<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's lovely sauntering along on a walk across Scotland. One can take one's time, pausing as one pleases, taking in the views and resting a while, before pressing on in a lackadaisical fashion. No one to nag one into motion.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's a bit like writing this trip report, really. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So there was I in the beautiful setting of the Shielin of Mark bothy (aside from the huge encampment of silnylon and noseeum mesh, and iffy bodily sounds), and at the first sign of dawn, I was awake. There was a rumour that the rooms at St Drostan Hostal, Tarfside are like rocking horse gametes at this stage in TGO Challenge fortnight. I like to get up early to enjoy the absolute best part of the day on the trail. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I found a suitable place, as close as possible to Andrew Walker's shelter entrance and everyone else's water supply, to have a whoopsie and then got myself on the way. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My first objective was my first ever summit of the crossing. Muckle Cairn. It is a fairly insignificant top, with a roughish ascent from the Sheilin, but on a clear day as it was on this, erm, I forget which day number I am on, but on this day, it was crystal clear. Far reaching views to Lochnagar, and seemingly a view to the coast out to the east, but not quite. The panorama was beautiful.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSKfigjW-qcJQIxyT4r_s0-j2VwXA3NkwSKEwRRPDFcj4GLVAOp9mkldvnbgDlqDmeTR-dMQQo3LDkb21lAsgTdoXfFxRYDfv8ofoUr1Oj5G_MkTu_dxdNSZbufbrMPdO7fiZTYw1ZQwg/s1600/2012-05-22_06-50-36_988.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSKfigjW-qcJQIxyT4r_s0-j2VwXA3NkwSKEwRRPDFcj4GLVAOp9mkldvnbgDlqDmeTR-dMQQo3LDkb21lAsgTdoXfFxRYDfv8ofoUr1Oj5G_MkTu_dxdNSZbufbrMPdO7fiZTYw1ZQwg/s1600/2012-05-22_06-50-36_988.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lochnagar from Muckle Cairn</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidROkw869XiBM-KyIH2bcoQ9NfCDsxt2CB9AR3uFpDYMuN4bQ8uwP8R4ZMy7aimlVosqnp2VRVZBCYsScE1uasIYs54xAZj0o8R9kP_QP8PfB6oVimyBBBEuN8hNpZXCmdbwO279PC5Vk/s1600/2012-05-22_06-58-13_679.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidROkw869XiBM-KyIH2bcoQ9NfCDsxt2CB9AR3uFpDYMuN4bQ8uwP8R4ZMy7aimlVosqnp2VRVZBCYsScE1uasIYs54xAZj0o8R9kP_QP8PfB6oVimyBBBEuN8hNpZXCmdbwO279PC5Vk/s1600/2012-05-22_06-58-13_679.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The other way, from Muckle Cairn</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My mobile phone found a signal at this point and a handful of messages came through. The best of these, by a Highland mile, was one from my good friend declaring the birth of his first daughter, Sofia. I whimpered, and shed a joyful tear. The emotions of the Highlands were running high. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The way down to Glen Lee was clear, and then it bit me. No, not one of the Adders that frequent the area, but a sharp jabbing, and ominous knee pain that I had never felt before. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Not now!!!! Not now!!!! I'm only a midgie's widgey from the east coast!!!!! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">NOT NOW!!!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I pretended I hadn't felt it and carried on. A hundred yards later, it bit me again. This time was worse. I gave it no attention, feigning a pause to take in my surroundings. I bounced a little on the joint, it felt good and I carried on. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Reaching the point where the track becomes more established, and the descent levels somewhat, ZAP! It got me again but this time was far more gentle. I walked through it and it disappeared. 500 yards or so of fear, discomfort, worry, disappointment, despair, all disappeared and I felt like skipping the rest of the way to the Stables of Lee. I didn't.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizSKd67P2dUuZ7xmDTgq-K5PAILWd6FNyoxi9-CoG2DW7rMczrJ-bSLkQR5f7xzI6Bzif3wjmeF1OcU4eWImoehNOyLypizAOcze9Q4o__-DUWN1TPhHawvQm8TTkMKFvTcYxnUmh0-8M/s1600/2012-05-22_07-45-03_607.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizSKd67P2dUuZ7xmDTgq-K5PAILWd6FNyoxi9-CoG2DW7rMczrJ-bSLkQR5f7xzI6Bzif3wjmeF1OcU4eWImoehNOyLypizAOcze9Q4o__-DUWN1TPhHawvQm8TTkMKFvTcYxnUmh0-8M/s1600/2012-05-22_07-45-03_607.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The upper reaches of Glen <span style="font-size: 14px;">Lee</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAlq8S_CYlZULEwy1nBY37dudbpEunEWbU9zOidOlvvni2MJ1OPHclAOoj_vAxGdAKbsnomanG7swGa0MQi38quO_VYmBZFJNca3yW5nYY6SDUPpjykxIpNnX41yR3vSsCFeJEBVAJCM4/s1600/2012-05-22_08-13-34_502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAlq8S_CYlZULEwy1nBY37dudbpEunEWbU9zOidOlvvni2MJ1OPHclAOoj_vAxGdAKbsnomanG7swGa0MQi38quO_VYmBZFJNca3yW5nYY6SDUPpjykxIpNnX41yR3vSsCFeJEBVAJCM4/s1600/2012-05-22_08-13-34_502.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glen Lee plantation. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's a weird mix of a glen, with obvious forestry works but I really liked the walk down the upper stretches. I was all alone. Totally, and completely alone. It was early-ish, and the air was just beginning to warm from it's cool, post-dawn chill. It was fresh. Everything was crisply vivid. And then whoosh!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A bird of prey emerged from beneath the tree line, into the blue/white backdrop of the morning sky. It was a bird of prey, without question, a buzzard. Cool. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Too big, the beats were too slow. Too effortless. Too strong. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A Golden Eagle!!!! I watched it for a moment. Almost crying again. My heart was in my mouth. I'd seen several so far, but this was the closest view. It was just across the Glen from me. I felt as though it could hear me breathing, so I held my breath without realising it. I gasped inwards when I realised.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But something wasn't quite right. It just wasn't behaving like a Golden Eagle. I can't explain what I noticed, I still can't, even now. But I had seen this before. Where? What was it that was different. It was more chunky, where had I seen this before. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The thoughts raced through my head so quickly, like I was wracking my brains but without any effort at all. Mull! It was on Mull. It wasn't a Golden Eagle at all, it was a White-Tailed Sea Eagle. My chest tightened, and I dried up. That was it, a 100% unequivocal sighting of one of the rarest birds of prey in our Isles. It settled again in the pines on the northern side of the glen, it was huge. I reached for my grossly inadequate smartphone and fired off a couple of shots. Then I hit the video camera button, something I rarely do when I see something special, for fear of missing something in the experience. This was too good not to record. I filmed it for only a short while and whooped, proclaiming my sighting to an empty Glen Lee. I stopped filming and focused my eyes on the bird.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDs55xTCZhCP0m4mBkDyqhXLkUiGKsUvYMuVpEeP663hxxBxiTx45VKZ34fcOpyFH0xGbIIWMqgiGp-h80NWsuZ7cc1uJfr14qZAQVAMfrC5AIciZ-6gd7cRlWiJyforXsUBmp67SEx-o/s1600/2012-05-22_08-17-54_799.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDs55xTCZhCP0m4mBkDyqhXLkUiGKsUvYMuVpEeP663hxxBxiTx45VKZ34fcOpyFH0xGbIIWMqgiGp-h80NWsuZ7cc1uJfr14qZAQVAMfrC5AIciZ-6gd7cRlWiJyforXsUBmp67SEx-o/s1600/2012-05-22_08-17-54_799.jpg" height="302" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's a White Tailed Eagle in there, I promise you.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ4YArra9K6iizREqgsNBJUx8R4JHVHnlXz8Dki4xf8fikEdRCFFzwBgPQN7Aod9mte8msCHenMTwxLc2xIaTwEcYrhCYbQCJFt-iGFoVMvIXT66vljSWDi3EWt1grOyQTAWAQBdRhLac/s1600/2012-05-22_08-17-57_749.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ4YArra9K6iizREqgsNBJUx8R4JHVHnlXz8Dki4xf8fikEdRCFFzwBgPQN7Aod9mte8msCHenMTwxLc2xIaTwEcYrhCYbQCJFt-iGFoVMvIXT66vljSWDi3EWt1grOyQTAWAQBdRhLac/s1600/2012-05-22_08-17-57_749.jpg" height="302" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and here too. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It's partner must have heard me, for a second Eagle erupted into the air and they wheeled about for just a few moments longer before heading off beyond the trees and out of the glen. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I wiped the tears from my eyes, and composed myself before singing my way down the track. John Denver - Rocky Mountain High. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Here's the video. Sorry for the shouting, and my audio caption, but I hadn't prepared a commentary.</span><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/FNYoAtmy3YA?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>"And the Colorado rocky mountain high<br />
I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky<br />
I know he'd be a poorer ma-a-a-n if he never saw an eagle fl----y....etc..."<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The Glen becomes lovelier after a treat like that. Loch Lee was shimmering when I reached it, and the sound of Black Grouse was bubbling across the water. I couldn't see them, but they were there. It was like they wanted me to know it. A Sandpiper made curved flights from the near shore, into the loch a dozen or so yards, and back to the shore. It was keeping just far enough away from me to guarantee it's safety, and close enough for it to be a treat. I reached the end of the loch, and then the road at Kirkton and a Yellowhammer fizzed across the road and whipped over and into the back of a hedgerow. This was too nice. No one deserves a walk like this. I greeted the first person I met with a friendly acknowledgement, not wanting to impose myself on his morning, he reciprocated with a warm smile. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnRZlpmPHz2exNrjYzStOfSSWi5CkzaAqLqkSxWALmd5ckXe6U1kbvCyaZijwomprCreu0bR_ASoFE6O0o0m2ktrrkBLOkNGFjlFOxWm6Ywe93Zscj51nfUBlfIgGSCeJAU2yMNuWXXPA/s1600/2012-05-22_09-39-06_626.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnRZlpmPHz2exNrjYzStOfSSWi5CkzaAqLqkSxWALmd5ckXe6U1kbvCyaZijwomprCreu0bR_ASoFE6O0o0m2ktrrkBLOkNGFjlFOxWm6Ywe93Zscj51nfUBlfIgGSCeJAU2yMNuWXXPA/s1600/2012-05-22_09-39-06_626.jpg" height="400" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tower at Kirkton</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZq89RuxLuk0zszhPrrzYWUntI52Uki0Ddo3uyzdSCb_QtXbvLAAlQJl9AOUHe-IBeGOQivWDh51nZZmUITymOoF5ddffN0HgQkD5X0es2I3Sn787s3sQ3u9etzOdHYEjRimLFkubmejY/s1600/2012-05-22_09-48-40_46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZq89RuxLuk0zszhPrrzYWUntI52Uki0Ddo3uyzdSCb_QtXbvLAAlQJl9AOUHe-IBeGOQivWDh51nZZmUITymOoF5ddffN0HgQkD5X0es2I3Sn787s3sQ3u9etzOdHYEjRimLFkubmejY/s1600/2012-05-22_09-48-40_46.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting there...</td></tr>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisG0Z3L1F3dgABbTRJexXhdpeW5AhJnxiOXk39Yo3WCQP_1Py3NucmKnemeE7Hc_rwBdEOGBhBU6x-EppUCRxcBAwUC9bvK0bJU7pPISWky3RjEHMEjbEylspQDGwCvif7HP3H-9AvlSA/s1600/2012-05-22_10-26-13_544.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisG0Z3L1F3dgABbTRJexXhdpeW5AhJnxiOXk39Yo3WCQP_1Py3NucmKnemeE7Hc_rwBdEOGBhBU6x-EppUCRxcBAwUC9bvK0bJU7pPISWky3RjEHMEjbEylspQDGwCvif7HP3H-9AvlSA/s1600/2012-05-22_10-26-13_544.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...still getting there...</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4rZV3H-F4nxAH3zNV3Fr1TWgn1fSVn5K1uZXv8-tuU1jKsJdoXw_wyfUJSr3ZaU96XmyhocFQglYoBQAUAgTWrZT4Yxh1MC05Bhhi9-fSuqmcsC1wUc3SjIBYoDh6vFzWCG6tMQE_H1w/s1600/2012-05-22_10-37-29_921.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4rZV3H-F4nxAH3zNV3Fr1TWgn1fSVn5K1uZXv8-tuU1jKsJdoXw_wyfUJSr3ZaU96XmyhocFQglYoBQAUAgTWrZT4Yxh1MC05Bhhi9-fSuqmcsC1wUc3SjIBYoDh6vFzWCG6tMQE_H1w/s1600/2012-05-22_10-37-29_921.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sign that says so much more than its words.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I passed the impressive Kirkton tower and then a short walk across what now seemed like lowlands had me arriving at the welcoming sign for St Drostans. I was at Tarfside. It was no later than mid-morning and I was lucky enough to be welcomed with a choice of rooms. I picked a single room so I could relax without fear of bothering anyone else and headed back to the kitchen for a bacon sarnie. A bacon sarnie and a great chat with Alvar, and Ann, and others whose names escape me. Soon, more TGO'ers arrived, Russ and Herman, shared great tales of previous challenges, good walks, and fine company. It's an impossibly nice place to spend some time. I strolled into the village of Tarfside itself to find the watering hole and the campsite for later on. I found the latter easily, but the Mason's was nowhere to be seen. I should have done more research.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I later found out why. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I loitered with the campsite folks for a while during the afternoon, banter a plenty. Dave Pickles, Andrew Walker, Alan Sloman, Pete Molenaar, Lindsay Jones, Bryan Waddington, Ian Cotterill, Eddie and Alastair Hunt, so many great people. P C Pickles fought gallantly with his Akto, eventually claiming a weak victory by getting it pitched nicely. Thank the skies that it was dry! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The evening came and there were some gamekeepers (or similar shoot workers) waiting by the door of the Mason's which I had now discovered was little more than the front room of a large house, so Lindsay Jones and I lingered with them. They were nice enough chaps and were curious about our 'challenge'. Shame they do what they do, really. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The evening was filled with challenge tales, japes and photo sharing, old friends meeting again since their last encounters on 'crossings' of days yore. Lynsey Pooler was there, and Valerie, and Morpeth (Peter Shepherd). </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG4Gw58jTgwlBA-7KjyuIAHqR7gcUTZ88hPP1SK235qrW_tEdhoGvczspigEkB07i5glQjUAZfs1IflLsu9cWwLl2kY45sgNstODEXxFYopWhh0gS6QVq89aim1lRSet3nBbN6c1VvUX8/s1600/2012-05-22_20-19-14_513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG4Gw58jTgwlBA-7KjyuIAHqR7gcUTZ88hPP1SK235qrW_tEdhoGvczspigEkB07i5glQjUAZfs1IflLsu9cWwLl2kY45sgNstODEXxFYopWhh0gS6QVq89aim1lRSet3nBbN6c1VvUX8/s1600/2012-05-22_20-19-14_513.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If he isn't blurred...</td></tr>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8CRjL2wt9SmdR02mSwsubqDP7GmeKM9UlKzfZ5Suo4O9PU1G3_b7Om_klLIVN01EqJcfev7iTwKsn19NLWBlhSd_yZRYBqMz22q5w75ufOIO4KUe-mqc5UDRVHAFwYJIBJ5vBioEsqX4/s1600/2012-05-22_20-19-21_939.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8CRjL2wt9SmdR02mSwsubqDP7GmeKM9UlKzfZ5Suo4O9PU1G3_b7Om_klLIVN01EqJcfev7iTwKsn19NLWBlhSd_yZRYBqMz22q5w75ufOIO4KUe-mqc5UDRVHAFwYJIBJ5vBioEsqX4/s1600/2012-05-22_20-19-21_939.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...then he is. It's like some sort of law of physics.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXY9binTBKf87wiN2Q3_u8JUfXzQm6rHS6iX9D3uCx64Du5xZ0-wXuaOsUANuc4Vm1taRNLJXtzPrNY5IzY5QhovCLVBqaWCUQYffkrbU9FDsRnbxzCxIHqKgDhbDkFzc8DaZo0OMtpsA/s1600/2012-05-22_20-19-42_693.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXY9binTBKf87wiN2Q3_u8JUfXzQm6rHS6iX9D3uCx64Du5xZ0-wXuaOsUANuc4Vm1taRNLJXtzPrNY5IzY5QhovCLVBqaWCUQYffkrbU9FDsRnbxzCxIHqKgDhbDkFzc8DaZo0OMtpsA/s1600/2012-05-22_20-19-42_693.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lindsay Jones, Pete Molenaar, other challengers - names please?!!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcr98TtyyYCSiteYtX3gd_TNDutKiSMuadL9RI2JLEMk8FBixXh_sCRQkTjDB_A1HWO01eIv4YIrsv5nOeeU4svsRD1sepV9wHD9vaaUST9u1rVsLLJU_uKjmaEvBs2Z10eUmlHGB43Bg/s1600/2012-05-22_20-19-58_29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcr98TtyyYCSiteYtX3gd_TNDutKiSMuadL9RI2JLEMk8FBixXh_sCRQkTjDB_A1HWO01eIv4YIrsv5nOeeU4svsRD1sepV9wHD9vaaUST9u1rVsLLJU_uKjmaEvBs2Z10eUmlHGB43Bg/s1600/2012-05-22_20-19-58_29.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wide choice of ales at the Mason's. I chose Guinness, and then McEwans, and then it ran out.</td></tr>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguQxnkBkGo9qbddAufRjaNUGS1O09lb8Bom6JOMyaqKW7O2fK1Fw3dJeeOqVh9lAHlf4j6myzPijuq5tDHO193G38YvUfK-_4RJjUnRfXbGkQOZd2-MTE7nCahQqmTBXBwQJkcU2PZvLU/s1600/2012-05-22_20-20-06_554.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguQxnkBkGo9qbddAufRjaNUGS1O09lb8Bom6JOMyaqKW7O2fK1Fw3dJeeOqVh9lAHlf4j6myzPijuq5tDHO193G38YvUfK-_4RJjUnRfXbGkQOZd2-MTE7nCahQqmTBXBwQJkcU2PZvLU/s1600/2012-05-22_20-20-06_554.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eddie and Ian are here. Others too.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0_SjWu_6xrajAkjE_sxxNfA4QKb2QJLI_w1yqhxWTg6rhrw0-nYgM3LzfDOFocxJKi6oRBOj0X7UcynOD5c0Sic9VMG7V7hCCph3CgJimvKxnnZP5VX4l9BLo3XW0Q7PPZFcg36_WcRA/s1600/2012-05-22_20-20-16_257.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0_SjWu_6xrajAkjE_sxxNfA4QKb2QJLI_w1yqhxWTg6rhrw0-nYgM3LzfDOFocxJKi6oRBOj0X7UcynOD5c0Sic9VMG7V7hCCph3CgJimvKxnnZP5VX4l9BLo3XW0Q7PPZFcg36_WcRA/s1600/2012-05-22_20-20-16_257.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Valerie and...? SORRY!!! It's been 2 and a half years! ...Thanks Alan, it's Big Ian. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxPtE00HOxG6dbcJlnbaAcoVX3qoGOTbly9FurOLZkhkbWiJYedr0zd6Wkbgt8oeGkW0BnPZwsaEk40Gr4Xn6WFXxQQeyUMR4h4wdtemKdiEhZ6mYQxmEu4goiNBZ_PDeAlGoAbZra1_o/s1600/2012-05-22_20-20-38_163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxPtE00HOxG6dbcJlnbaAcoVX3qoGOTbly9FurOLZkhkbWiJYedr0zd6Wkbgt8oeGkW0BnPZwsaEk40Gr4Xn6WFXxQQeyUMR4h4wdtemKdiEhZ6mYQxmEu4goiNBZ_PDeAlGoAbZra1_o/s1600/2012-05-22_20-20-38_163.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haven't a clue who this one is. Looks like trouble, though.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBLTeKTkXAsynMlA7_3NsQMPx50rYXhpLlkuEZTkdh4u-2UKAw1NaZLk96xf2uD4YZdjsl-qfNZmd8_h_YciRYWZb3p5KSYr0swTR6MTNmwvVCeubcHw2pqEFCaM522c_1XTDWHMxznD4/s1600/2012-05-22_20-20-55_344.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBLTeKTkXAsynMlA7_3NsQMPx50rYXhpLlkuEZTkdh4u-2UKAw1NaZLk96xf2uD4YZdjsl-qfNZmd8_h_YciRYWZb3p5KSYr0swTR6MTNmwvVCeubcHw2pqEFCaM522c_1XTDWHMxznD4/s1600/2012-05-22_20-20-55_344.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morpeth, on the right. Ian C on the left.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlI-sJas6QK3VJetjxh5-F__-AsXuJ0RaM1bX3WBghR0Olm7-d_zKFzpyC62S4txW06IuziZrLlT_fIBtkvLc51TthSZmIEh_aZIeDoFaqLqkiKSOeGQw76LWzrCTCl3dcNXOfZ0hhgjk/s1600/2012-05-22_22-14-45_142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlI-sJas6QK3VJetjxh5-F__-AsXuJ0RaM1bX3WBghR0Olm7-d_zKFzpyC62S4txW06IuziZrLlT_fIBtkvLc51TthSZmIEh_aZIeDoFaqLqkiKSOeGQw76LWzrCTCl3dcNXOfZ0hhgjk/s1600/2012-05-22_22-14-45_142.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dave Pickles & Bryan Waddington. Fine chaps.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We got drunk, and somehow I managed to get back to my pit at St Drostan's. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">THE day of my life was over. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had planned to finish my write up this evening, but this post has taken me far longer than I expected. I thought I had forgotten a lot of the detail, but it's still in there. Ready for recall on demand. But you have to walk the walk again in your mind. Don't you?</span>Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-77640824964595089702014-06-06T12:39:00.004+01:002014-06-06T12:39:49.702+01:00Thank you...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1ji5olqVZvyghA8QtlPYHH7EIszf9n6x8XIrebFqzpNgk3Ns8mKSxQPxUSw7hGrNHln5VRW8ZKfpCjkkgmQQhulrAs1qUBmUErzeqA2f4LsCPJ3B2CiwrKw7fI3ElmJ2VI1s499ox10/s1600/cenotaph.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1ji5olqVZvyghA8QtlPYHH7EIszf9n6x8XIrebFqzpNgk3Ns8mKSxQPxUSw7hGrNHln5VRW8ZKfpCjkkgmQQhulrAs1qUBmUErzeqA2f4LsCPJ3B2CiwrKw7fI3ElmJ2VI1s499ox10/s1600/cenotaph.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Thank you to the fallen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Thank you to the injured.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Thank you to the brave.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Thank you to the scared.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Thank you to those who remain.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Thank you, all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">#DDay70</span></div>
Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-89295110790515248212014-02-17T19:09:00.002+00:002014-02-17T19:09:09.612+00:00TGO Challenge 2012 - Loch Callater Lodge to Shielin of Mark<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Where was I? Ah... ...yes.... ...Loch Callater Lodge.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In spite of a terribly convivial and overly imbibed preceding evening, I awoke fresh. Ok, well not fresh, but without any sort of pain. I had already decided to be more relaxed for today's yomp over to the Shielin of Mark and really just wanted to let nature take it's course and so it was. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The natural progression of the morning movements (yes all of them) carried me along like a fluff of down on the lightest breeze. The fabric of the tent was icy cold with a sugar-coating of frost which I disturbed unavoidably as I emerged from the opening. It was a truly beautiful morning.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN-fJY7wYH1DKzlruqhHllG7Rjn3Bj4fAeJLtENu7T5NQtjQrb71VaiXvfaHmcZaJZQof4zR7lLuncCV-FjjMJA3d7C77PkqH2WghWedzxtsdhi45Za-tXemmQ6vBEGwD_OfwNWFdrgzk/s1600/2012-05-21_09-52-21_673.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN-fJY7wYH1DKzlruqhHllG7Rjn3Bj4fAeJLtENu7T5NQtjQrb71VaiXvfaHmcZaJZQof4zR7lLuncCV-FjjMJA3d7C77PkqH2WghWedzxtsdhi45Za-tXemmQ6vBEGwD_OfwNWFdrgzk/s1600/2012-05-21_09-52-21_673.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was a beautiful morning. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Above Loch Callater.</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMtzFSXJ3xQV98pyzl51CvzpPlMwamR3YCmxJT_4vRtm7ltZU0mMJ1oUtnrGpH0IXd0qDGUpjfu5OCaR0oRT_y7zmoOMpF09HZH0VmTHbPhKgkyLDRpPOby7Ys4ja2U4m-iRNlA6ztJyE/s1600/2012-05-21_09-52-30_586.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMtzFSXJ3xQV98pyzl51CvzpPlMwamR3YCmxJT_4vRtm7ltZU0mMJ1oUtnrGpH0IXd0qDGUpjfu5OCaR0oRT_y7zmoOMpF09HZH0VmTHbPhKgkyLDRpPOby7Ys4ja2U4m-iRNlA6ztJyE/s1600/2012-05-21_09-52-30_586.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVywHeW2guPdJG0HUGuBQT7bSdZYX7e-0ozj9ZFC81o8mu4A4BY1283Wm11V0QPFpqpETZA9cfHMmenWyK5fPjZr9A1L3pvEv9REPHm9CMOWk4SjPk3w5FSkPV7yrec90keLsckSUOtaU/s1600/2012-05-21_10-47-14_15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVywHeW2guPdJG0HUGuBQT7bSdZYX7e-0ozj9ZFC81o8mu4A4BY1283Wm11V0QPFpqpETZA9cfHMmenWyK5fPjZr9A1L3pvEv9REPHm9CMOWk4SjPk3w5FSkPV7yrec90keLsckSUOtaU/s1600/2012-05-21_10-47-14_15.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was around about this point that I bumped into Alan Sloman, Andy Walker and Ian Cotterill. They were taking a break from the lung-busting climb out of Callater onto the slopes of Carn an t-Sagairt Mór. It was a VERY warm day. In spite of the heat I felt strong, and fitter than I ever had before. Nevertheless, this was still a brutal ascent. I paused for a while with the chaps before setting off with Andy up to the higher slopes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Di Gerrard, 'Charles', Keith Leonard and Lynsey Pooler were leapfrogging us for a wee while up and around (but not over) 'Sagairt Mór, There was plenty of snow about and given my footwear, I took the decision, after a brief chat with Andy, to follow his route over the bealach and down to Dubh Loch. Lynsey, Keith, Di and Charles headed higher and up onto Cairn Bannoch and Broad Cairn. I think Lynsey was headed over to the Waters of Unich. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This point was the highest point I would reach on my crossing, at 968m. The views to the west across the Cairngorms were outstanding.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6uXThRv45jj4ABztc04WhSu7Tm1dRm-lNgkWeQLwv4Llpf5DuN0Vb_rIy1dQ6a_DKslW_0pTl9kAW7jzO_fX22Q5FJfT_K5JLu3F-TCmMM-SIH2rim60A8Fyatln7W8BO8muvTL1Z-F8/s1600/2012-05-21_10-47-24_391.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6uXThRv45jj4ABztc04WhSu7Tm1dRm-lNgkWeQLwv4Llpf5DuN0Vb_rIy1dQ6a_DKslW_0pTl9kAW7jzO_fX22Q5FJfT_K5JLu3F-TCmMM-SIH2rim60A8Fyatln7W8BO8muvTL1Z-F8/s1600/2012-05-21_10-47-24_391.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Oh, get me - high altitude mountaineering.</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnefFGukVKzAVp8f7Cs0Cqbur44AKt8hyLN6VK6yy8K6zwBOwFGCgo-3PojfWQDvpAqJ7JiBG1JCsncJVfOkpuc5ilFvqcBkscUCOHRo75hZ8FrPBTPHghnTYyxHnnaO2gbkklXKaQpx4/s1600/2012-05-21_11-06-29_999.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnefFGukVKzAVp8f7Cs0Cqbur44AKt8hyLN6VK6yy8K6zwBOwFGCgo-3PojfWQDvpAqJ7JiBG1JCsncJVfOkpuc5ilFvqcBkscUCOHRo75hZ8FrPBTPHghnTYyxHnnaO2gbkklXKaQpx4/s1600/2012-05-21_11-06-29_999.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbGk1Tsf3tZGDcqm642vFI-nr0ikIfwVSsiRDcWHOpHLoN_E4HweoJlh4GatRWUykn-Xkv9OYnQzerN523csmXBts52C9pZtGLM6a6Etd-v3NbjoW6V4N4zh7PwE8vXmJKLUGs5eaaCVs/s1600/2012-05-21_11-03-59_553.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbGk1Tsf3tZGDcqm642vFI-nr0ikIfwVSsiRDcWHOpHLoN_E4HweoJlh4GatRWUykn-Xkv9OYnQzerN523csmXBts52C9pZtGLM6a6Etd-v3NbjoW6V4N4zh7PwE8vXmJKLUGs5eaaCVs/s1600/2012-05-21_11-03-59_553.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Lynsey, Keith, Di and Charles - not necessarily in that order.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> I think these photographs are a touch out of sequence, but I really don't think it matters. You get the sense of the day quite nicely from them, don't you agree?</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3vn-0XjZ4BXYjwHfPhyphenhyphenaayMTaJ9YDg5HePlD8KZuwoBfcWoMH68QKnTNwZK-F2FRZegzCh4_7VZ9ogXXsZOUiiFyoPjpT0PH_fTm3SsxQpu4TRHLN04cO6u5xxzE3RPUBmTrRbAWSgE/s1600/2012-05-21_11-32-22_555.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3vn-0XjZ4BXYjwHfPhyphenhyphenaayMTaJ9YDg5HePlD8KZuwoBfcWoMH68QKnTNwZK-F2FRZegzCh4_7VZ9ogXXsZOUiiFyoPjpT0PH_fTm3SsxQpu4TRHLN04cO6u5xxzE3RPUBmTrRbAWSgE/s1600/2012-05-21_11-32-22_555.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Rough ground between me and Dubh Loch.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I mentioned, I headed down into Dubh Loch, which is rougly the way Andy was headed - well, it was 'roughly' east, which would do for him. He loitered up high above Dubh Loch, waiting for Alan to follow on to join him. He didn't, so Andy carried on and followed a few hundred metres behind me into this terrific area of landscape.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6mSyiY1pG6fGrXV6jKB7m0DMew1KqUKyPGLfIkaAzXa01Oon3HsabLCi1GDyjpyvOWp0QNGO8a1uDLNu3O6zJKbglT-CiKdPQnnFoXX8v55M9qk9fpuvUONJmAeFYeJMcjpVAU-NGow4/s1600/2012-05-21_11-32-27_834.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6mSyiY1pG6fGrXV6jKB7m0DMew1KqUKyPGLfIkaAzXa01Oon3HsabLCi1GDyjpyvOWp0QNGO8a1uDLNu3O6zJKbglT-CiKdPQnnFoXX8v55M9qk9fpuvUONJmAeFYeJMcjpVAU-NGow4/s1600/2012-05-21_11-32-27_834.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The White Mounth, Dubh Loch, and Broad Cairn.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Cairn Bannoch just out of shot to the right.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghs8u2omLDWRyZ46H3zcdkzvfwvJ23Xj4bjPkerzg0d2QbVs2y6rJ-cFDXc336uWJ4UIahurrp28XjlSFehlr_LhxNEAVJLqzBjG1L6Zza6Vo379v3on9pxpPPfM-5aDuKKpaEBjF2S_E/s1600/2012-05-21_12-07-01_275.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghs8u2omLDWRyZ46H3zcdkzvfwvJ23Xj4bjPkerzg0d2QbVs2y6rJ-cFDXc336uWJ4UIahurrp28XjlSFehlr_LhxNEAVJLqzBjG1L6Zza6Vo379v3on9pxpPPfM-5aDuKKpaEBjF2S_E/s1600/2012-05-21_12-07-01_275.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Eagles Rock, on the White Mounth above Dubh Loch</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Taken from our 'rest slab'.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> The huge slabs at the top of the waterfall were the perfect place to stop for some chocolate, and a drink of water. I scooped some up from the flow with my mug and drank it down. Heavenly!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It wasn't all that long before Mr Walker arrived and we shared the sanctity of the slab and soaked up the sunshine and ancient surroundings. He inflated his little pillow and got comfortable. It became difficult to move on, not for any physical reason, there just wasn't a good enough reason to push on.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Andy remarked on the aircraft wreckage further up the Allt - "What wrkecage?" I replied - upon which comment he drew his camera and showed me the rather large chunks of aeroplane he had spotted further up the hill. I had completely missed them!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9LbERYKq3q-0o7zzXEe25bX0RX-isZUHGCLu5vDSkcfnp3Ar3F5tjvu1eEUpwbVrz66DJe4dRfY_TD43CypFUabmL8mIX3RI5brk4hMzIozlRlqPbshfufK41iVQLzuNyLV1CTG8LuDg/s1600/2012-05-21_12-34-57_54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9LbERYKq3q-0o7zzXEe25bX0RX-isZUHGCLu5vDSkcfnp3Ar3F5tjvu1eEUpwbVrz66DJe4dRfY_TD43CypFUabmL8mIX3RI5brk4hMzIozlRlqPbshfufK41iVQLzuNyLV1CTG8LuDg/s1600/2012-05-21_12-34-57_54.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Allt an Dubh-loch</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkj9M2aGmeSeOXvCloh86r__M4agmLrCBIqJiA-qU7HS5D2eYQ-o-yKcwMO7ZFJi4E3rMoAOglXWjoZOvO8Qk4bMeGa0citD7W7ZI220a8yrm5cmVrJM9RjFj2nCPx5B32hCACD47JIjM/s1600/2012-05-21_12-38-03_302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkj9M2aGmeSeOXvCloh86r__M4agmLrCBIqJiA-qU7HS5D2eYQ-o-yKcwMO7ZFJi4E3rMoAOglXWjoZOvO8Qk4bMeGa0citD7W7ZI220a8yrm5cmVrJM9RjFj2nCPx5B32hCACD47JIjM/s1600/2012-05-21_12-38-03_302.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The high falls at the western edge of Eagles Rock, on the southern flanks of the </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIgAlPC2uM5JhydmToU_ivCvSEcNUX5poyzzcp2Wv1GF9HRiW8MPrnkrMwHAgCZl5W75lq_1IvAu6HklPj3TUQwJdPSKwZrson8eFkdN8S7736kREPOMZPptQ8vsxE8DRZbgfEbh8B1w/s1600/2012-05-21_12-47-29_259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIgAlPC2uM5JhydmToU_ivCvSEcNUX5poyzzcp2Wv1GF9HRiW8MPrnkrMwHAgCZl5W75lq_1IvAu6HklPj3TUQwJdPSKwZrson8eFkdN8S7736kREPOMZPptQ8vsxE8DRZbgfEbh8B1w/s1600/2012-05-21_12-47-29_259.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Creag an Dubh-loch</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3foqhHZIeKgkvDNL745VHqxODFIqLjgPD2bWSWmHIAryG10aNKHcnwf7ls3Fs8ZczCvmrqxUsZoWNfgK17AD8CGtXBvjnuMY_jC0iai0n0BX-go9qKdb6jcYIzeZzXjXNtKTj_ZNP1fs/s1600/2012-05-21_12-47-41_471.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3foqhHZIeKgkvDNL745VHqxODFIqLjgPD2bWSWmHIAryG10aNKHcnwf7ls3Fs8ZczCvmrqxUsZoWNfgK17AD8CGtXBvjnuMY_jC0iai0n0BX-go9qKdb6jcYIzeZzXjXNtKTj_ZNP1fs/s1600/2012-05-21_12-47-41_471.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Another bloody picture of Dubh Loch</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> Time came when it felt appropriate for me to hoist myself to my feet, so I left Andy (probably faffing) and set off at a skippity rhythm along the path above the loch, and headed for Loch Muick. I had been at Loch Muick before, with Linda on a holiday before we had the kids. I remembered the Black Grouse lek at on the moors just out from the visitor centre and hoped I might catch a glimpse again, although it was late in the day, and it was unlikely.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvtSC4-wWGJgaAnwdIxV39fJf9hQfvGjBctq7PUUBaJ-7QVNekIu805pRY2fdgrrAzGspe-UKhMHYKpX6jP-seXpV0g7zDWdqpCQia7yFrJi9Mj0HYIQrEgtBVdb1Yb8wnXwmDJnHM6vc/s1600/2012-05-21_12-47-51_546.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvtSC4-wWGJgaAnwdIxV39fJf9hQfvGjBctq7PUUBaJ-7QVNekIu805pRY2fdgrrAzGspe-UKhMHYKpX6jP-seXpV0g7zDWdqpCQia7yFrJi9Mj0HYIQrEgtBVdb1Yb8wnXwmDJnHM6vc/s1600/2012-05-21_12-47-51_546.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Looking back UP Allt an Dubh-loch</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_c0HpZCBa1fSDyqa7krI9rjR0mL5EGzih9IrRk-Go0Hx8DsjwR3VRz3gfe7vcpkN-OHz0h_yJwQIaQ8G4K-NgKWKdamDcXGTE9qiDsbk3qNUSJDt4dnCUc35olAUAKL9WVxmuNvkH4Ns/s1600/2012-05-21_13-19-47_26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_c0HpZCBa1fSDyqa7krI9rjR0mL5EGzih9IrRk-Go0Hx8DsjwR3VRz3gfe7vcpkN-OHz0h_yJwQIaQ8G4K-NgKWKdamDcXGTE9qiDsbk3qNUSJDt4dnCUc35olAUAKL9WVxmuNvkH4Ns/s1600/2012-05-21_13-19-47_26.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The first glimpse of Loch Muick</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The path down from Dubh Loch to Glas Allt Shiel was high, narrow, rough and exposed, and incredibly beautiful into the bargain.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtHeGghFvGVUgGKE1ZFXXNdXnxB8pnvI5FfZ2VgH4F23MjI4n46ZiW77PZ-UjGiDV4LfK_OJBlVaLHmWBg2ufbngf2oOHQATOGJxtxixcFqiPvFIXJgiJ8tts7pJlLay6vStTbGsgqc5Q/s1600/2012-05-21_13-19-56_502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtHeGghFvGVUgGKE1ZFXXNdXnxB8pnvI5FfZ2VgH4F23MjI4n46ZiW77PZ-UjGiDV4LfK_OJBlVaLHmWBg2ufbngf2oOHQATOGJxtxixcFqiPvFIXJgiJ8tts7pJlLay6vStTbGsgqc5Q/s1600/2012-05-21_13-19-56_502.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The rugged descent</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For some reason I failed to take any photos when I reached Glas Allt Shiel, which was a shame as I remember having a lovely old time there too. Andy arrived a short while after I did and Eddy and Alistair Hunt joined us whilst we made a brew and set about getting some food together. I've said it before that these two chaps really are great people to get to know. I had really found a couple of good friends here. I am still in touch with them, from time to time - although Eddy has vowed never to cross Scotland on foot ever again!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We'll see!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As we sat, a chaffinch shat on one of our shoulders, I can't remember if it was mine - it was so long ago - right Louise? ;-)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Andy showed me to the facilities and to the bothy which secretes itself within the bowels of Glas Allt Shiel itself. Not a bad little setting, actually, and on a foul weather day, I don't doubt this would be an ideal place to hunker down. Google it and I am sure you will find some images of it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I made use of the facilities whilst Andy sourced some water, upstream of the outlet - naturally.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Alistair and Eddy had set off a while before me and I felt that it was time to make progress again so headed through the woods and around the loch to the spittal and the visitor centre. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjaaEVxlv9YTrTQ6nAxXvrk8KEREgyNs4wgUKDz5MBdWEhQ2t0r_yeNcWab919tqP5gFK3O91uzgHyd1oZ620xvzzidu_f-EB21pez7BZNfwdrvbZWzk_yJm1eAKB4WEhdvDgBzDQ-4R4/s1600/2012-05-21_15-40-47_327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjaaEVxlv9YTrTQ6nAxXvrk8KEREgyNs4wgUKDz5MBdWEhQ2t0r_yeNcWab919tqP5gFK3O91uzgHyd1oZ620xvzzidu_f-EB21pez7BZNfwdrvbZWzk_yJm1eAKB4WEhdvDgBzDQ-4R4/s1600/2012-05-21_15-40-47_327.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX1mCoSMLxOxFq22MBO4376xqu7trcFtOqJShpTTOTY9_hgOiMI-mMQhfXijjGpB_1dW_TNqZC77Yqf0KCm5LIRp84BE2fRRuyPhYOVAfhqKDsMPH4_ZAhfVaHr5jkrR_FO7wo-OkwTEI/s1600/2012-05-21_15-40-54_661.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX1mCoSMLxOxFq22MBO4376xqu7trcFtOqJShpTTOTY9_hgOiMI-mMQhfXijjGpB_1dW_TNqZC77Yqf0KCm5LIRp84BE2fRRuyPhYOVAfhqKDsMPH4_ZAhfVaHr5jkrR_FO7wo-OkwTEI/s1600/2012-05-21_15-40-54_661.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Loch Muick - as stunning as I remember it.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Several more challengers and day walkers were gathered at the spittal, and I had passed a few folk on the loch path too. I nattered a bit with some of them before making an energetic dash up Allt Darrarie. I was once again feeling super fit and was generally loving life. I caught up with Eddy and Alistair and slowed my pace for a time so I could chat some more. I naturally began to gain ground on them so I bade a temporary farewell and yomped on ahead. I was around about the point where the Darrarie darts off to the right when I remembered the bearing that Andy had confidently given me to assist in locating the bothy. I duly set my compass and stuck to the bearing - it was simple enough given the weather. The hags posed some challenge whilst crossing this high moor but I was actually beginning to like solving the problems that the peat presented. It was quite absorbing, and I was becoming better at it that I had ever been.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I popped out at the burn that I presume from the map is one of the source burns for the Water of Mark. No bothy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I checked the bearing, and looked back from where I had come, yep - spot on. Of course, I checked again, and then worked out the actual bearing I should have taken, and it was 5 degrees out. I headed upstream and sure enough after a hundred steps or so, into view came the bothy at Shielin of Mark. I made a mental note to release a couple of guylines from Andy's shelter that night - such was the vitriol that coursed through my veins. Or perhaps I exaggerate. Either way - I won't ever admit that I should have checked the bearing myself before plodding across the hags.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was not the first to arrive. A couple of chaps were already pitched whose faces I remember well, but names have escaped me now. In fairness, I only really met the legs of one of the chaps, for he was snoring like a drain with his pins poking out of his tent.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I popped my head in the bothy and popped it speedily out again. It is not a place to spend the night, especially with the weather as good as it was that day. Up went the tent in no time on a bit of damp ground and I set about making myself comfortable.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The hoards gathered one by one, and by the end of the evening there were alot of people camped at the Shielin. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just a Moment.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and another.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Eddy and Alistair <strike>trumped</strike> camped next door</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Lindsay Jones arrived and chose a spot not far from me, after what seemed like an hour of faff and a modicum of banter among us, she got her tent up. Pete Molenaar was there, and I recall spending a good time chatting to him, although what we discussed escapes me completely. Andy arrived too, and I don't remember berating him at all, but I feel sure I must have done. And I definitely don't remember taking any of his tent stakes out. I do remember having some of Alistair's coffee, though. It was very nice stuff. I remember chatting to one lady who had crossed on a mammoth route, and she was really lovely, and utterly unaware of the magnitude of her route - she just kind of oozed adventure and experience. She was in a green Laser Comp, and had a very youthful but weathered look about her. Her hair was greying, and tightly curled. She was very dainty. I have absolutely no idea what her name was. No hope of remembering it either. Such is the peril of writing up a trip report after almost 2 years, and having not take any notes since Braemar. I was doing so well with noting the people I met, even as far across as Ruigh Aiteachain. There's something about Braemar. It does something to you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I don't remember drifting off, either. But I must have done. Because when I woke up, it was another beautiful day. A day about which you will be able to read in a few months time.</span>Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-54140645608520437572014-01-12T12:58:00.001+00:002014-02-17T16:21:52.154+00:00I know it's been quiet here, but I have been busy...<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Hi folks, I know it has been quiet here, but I have been VERY busy over at <a href="http://www.britishwildlifetales.co.uk/">British Wildlife Tales</a> working on a lovely little children's book series which will help them learn about the birds and wildlife they see around them. The first book, called 'The Birds at the Bottom of the Garden' will shortly be available to pre-order, directly from the blog. Stay tuned to that page for updates.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The next instalment of my 2012 TGO Challenge might make an appearance over the next few weeks too, if I can spare an hour or so. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This year I am going to apply again, for the 2015 crossing. I might have got the 2012 write up finished by then. ;-)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Thanks folks, and feel free to direct your followers over to the book blog too, I'd be ever so grateful.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Carl.</span>Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-47634638693412219862013-09-15T11:58:00.003+01:002013-09-15T11:58:59.302+01:00TGO Challenge 2012 - Braemar to Loch Callater Lodge<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Day 10, and the hangover was serious. Really serious. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The 'deluxe' breakfast at my 'deluxe' bed and breakfast accommodation was hovering at around 'average'. Some of it struggled it's way into my stomach through the oscillating waves of nausea. I was most anti-social with the owner of the establishment, which is unlike me in normal circumstances. Anyway, they deserved little attention for being so average. Average would have been fine, had they not been so bold about the 'deluxe' offering, and had also not charged a 'deluxe' price. Enough with the moaning, on to the supersonic day I was about to have.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had already peeped outside, and had been greeted with the beginnings of a most glorious day. I left my partially masticated petit dejeuner and swayed my wobbly self up to my room.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Gathering my things together, I packed in a haphazard fashion. I dumped my £300 camera (already confirmed as defunct) in the waste paper basket in my room and made sure it was the only thing I had left behind. Having already paid, I crept out the front door of the mediocre Clunie Lodge B & B without a word.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Most of the day was spent strolling about in Braemar, I was killing time. I watched for reds again by the bridge, browsed Braemar Mountain Sports for the umpteenth time, and picked up a teeny Michelin map of Scotland which promised to be perfect for planning my NEXT crossing. I still haven't found that map!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I remember very little detail about my day in Braemar, having done little that was either specific, or particularly interesting to anyone else.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The things that do resonate in my mind, are the people. The 'challenge' folk. They (you) are mostly bloody lovely.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I bounced from conversation to conversation with folk like Louise, JJ, Lynsey and Alistair (including a million tummy tickles with Isabel), Alan and Andy, Jim Davidson (who sadly had to leave his crossing due to a family illness), countless others wafted in and out of my day. It became a joy, out of the bleary fog from whence it came.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I guess it was mid-afternoon before I got itchy feet. I had to ensure a healthy stock of malted grains so found myself outside the little co-op decanting golden fluid from a lovely glass bottle into a scabby plastic one in unison with one Andrew Walker. He assured me I would need all of it. I didn't argue.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I whiled another half hour before setting off down the road past the Golf Course with a lovely challenger called David who was off up Morven to bag it's summit. It really was a terrific day. He left the lane and I carried on only to overshoot the turning for the bridge. Clambering the deer fence and tramping through a mushy paddock, I regained my intended route, realising that I actually hadn't overshot after all. Ahem!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was a true saunter along the lane to Loch Callater Lodge and I bumped into several folk along the way. Tim (?) from Manchester (?) was belting up the track when I had paused for a chat with John who was wearing a luridly coloured anorak. John is one of the stronger, more vivid characters that the challenge has to offer. He has a personality it is difficult to forget. You may have seen his YouTube clip explaining why there were actually just 2 days left of his challenge when he was only two thirds the way done. Look it up on Alan Sloman's blog, it's a smasher. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Arriving at Callater Lodge, I was beginning to get a taste of the magic of the place within minutes. I was thrust into the little 'kitchen' area and proffered bacon rolls and tea. I stuffed these into my mouth and greedily drank my tea down. I then stuffed some cash into the tin at the side of the table. There wasn't a price list or a tender taking money, a most alien feeling for a townie like me where everything is labelled, logged, tilled and overpriced. The chinwaggery continued for some time and would have never ended, but I pushed outside to pitch my tent. Space was becoming premium.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">An hour or so later the call of "Stovies" was hollered and a few folk headed into the kitchen again. A huge pot of hot potato & meat 'stew' was bubbling on the stove, and I was urged again to take a plate which was filled with a dollop of stovies and a handful of oatcakes. It was was delicious stodge, which I hadn't really earned and again I wasn't charged for. I stuffed some more money in the tin.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This place is ridiculously fabulous. Not, I stress, because of the sustenance in vast supply, but the warmth with which it is offered. I was beginning to fall in love. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I realise that I haven't even begun to describe the setting! I'll let the pictures do the talking. They are at the end of the post.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">More folk we arriving - Ngumo and Di showed up and set about making camp close by, as did PC Dave Pickles. He popped his Akto up near to mine, I was glad - he's a diamond.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The afternoon turned to evening, almost without a though I grabbed my whisky and aimed squarely for the lounge, where folk were relaxing and stories were already beginning to be shared.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There was Croydon Mick, Stefan from Belgium (?), Alan, Andy, Lynsey, JJ, Ian C, Doha Jim, John (the aforementioned). And of course after much cajoling there was Lynsey Pooler, who had a surprise in store for her. This room must have been palatial, but it wasn't. It was cosy. The gas light flickered and hissed and signing began in earnest. Beer was being handed out, freely. The generosity was limitless, as was proven when the Laphroaig was proffered to ALL in decent measure.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A quaich was passed gently round the room in a pleasing round and salutations a plenty were shared. Banter and insults strewn about, the likes of "shut the fuck up!" yelled by JJ to Andy, as he belted another liquor fuelled folk song into the room. It was a good song too, I recall - "oh good ale, thou art my darling, thou art my joy, both night and morning!". I could not agree more with the sentiments of this song - I've included a link to it at the bottom of the post.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Bill, the most hospitable, warm, friendly man I have met, was our head host and gave a rendition or three of some lovely songs and verses, my favourite being 'The Northern Lights of Old Aberdeen' (a link to this is included at the bottom of the post). It left tears in my eyes (aided and abetted by the booze, I have no doubt). The situation was so delightful I didn't want to leave.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There was a round of 'music man' too which included the impromptu verse of "I can play the blister scream, blister scream, blister scream" arranged by one Alan Sloman. Alan had developed a blister in case you didn't know. He was quiet about it though. Never made a fuss once. Not a whimper. Nothing - a real 'ard nut. ;-) That's about the way of it, Alan. Right? ;-)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am well aware that the order of these events may not be laid out precisely as they occurred, but spare me the corrections - I was hammered!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The entire room erupted in a chorus of "Happy Birthday" as a large chocolate cake adorned with a blinding number of candles was escorted into the room for Lynsey, at which point she immediately realised why she had been bullied so vehemently into heading up to Loch Callater. Lynsey's husband, Alistair, had made the cake and gone to huge effort to get the masterpiece up to the lodge during the afternoon, assisted by others including JJ who had also circulated a birthday card among what seemed to be the entire challenge community. She was clearly overwhelmed and delighted, if a little abashed by all the attention. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Long did the convivialities continue until at one point I fell drunkenly onto Stefan who failed to bat an eye lid. He simply laughed and helped me up into my seat. It was clearly time for me, at least, to retire. I composed myself as best I could before staggering outside to a sky that was so peppered with stars, planets and galaxies that it hurt my eyes. I began waxing loudly about them until I was politely reminded by Ian Cotterill where I was. Yes, I was enthusiastically bellowing out in the middle of a campsite full of sleeping challengers. At long past midnight! Thanks Ian, sometimes the drunken one needs a nudge of reality! :-)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I found a suitable place to empty my bladder, and tumbled into my Moment. I had reached the end of a day had furnished me with such a collection of great memories. I knew by now that I would be crossing this way again on a future challenge. I wholly recommend that you do too.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsL-5YURUA3vsRw6WVCoELGQmt7NcXWTjKE4G_AnpD0UhSIQb2zaYTXtH2Gmth_tfAZFpOXlEsfaxNweTvXYJwPd9xnm99HjmmEIICs7e0FHYf72uRZSUbS1OMLp9oTp49eU6qOr5lWR8/s1600/2012-05-20_10-51-08_23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsL-5YURUA3vsRw6WVCoELGQmt7NcXWTjKE4G_AnpD0UhSIQb2zaYTXtH2Gmth_tfAZFpOXlEsfaxNweTvXYJwPd9xnm99HjmmEIICs7e0FHYf72uRZSUbS1OMLp9oTp49eU6qOr5lWR8/s400/2012-05-20_10-51-08_23.jpg" width="298" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A lovely day in Braemar</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Vi5MRWci85IdpxB6PWFkEhNB8PVDnqczODEdfSvnoVuxbllK1LRTe5N9Ip6y69eraE1DoNFAL4tHpCd78CwyU-7w27O9q1lOoZ35RF4KWhCJx26fRUsvsjDyBehbNC3LXev7sawVJ2I/s1600/2012-05-20_10-51-21_160.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Vi5MRWci85IdpxB6PWFkEhNB8PVDnqczODEdfSvnoVuxbllK1LRTe5N9Ip6y69eraE1DoNFAL4tHpCd78CwyU-7w27O9q1lOoZ35RF4KWhCJx26fRUsvsjDyBehbNC3LXev7sawVJ2I/s400/2012-05-20_10-51-21_160.jpg" width="298" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The River Dee, Braemar</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipeZJDPIrCsJHdaUUzlNRf9qyxD-rshPNqIqr9KbiQ0np8Q9gcdA7UPjKaDdVINZAJTFCdDAYeFYwCNbWJtcPW6OxCMgyep78Vsn15-UwSXfgyYZPbvUN807RzH0E1zjGgwnCcJ_DVSc4/s1600/2012-05-20_14-14-04_798.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipeZJDPIrCsJHdaUUzlNRf9qyxD-rshPNqIqr9KbiQ0np8Q9gcdA7UPjKaDdVINZAJTFCdDAYeFYwCNbWJtcPW6OxCMgyep78Vsn15-UwSXfgyYZPbvUN807RzH0E1zjGgwnCcJ_DVSc4/s400/2012-05-20_14-14-04_798.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The track to Callater Lodge</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjDRxXJ6eEzQKyjn7_YsNLhCj68Uxhr4jCYUJqnXXy7nKdfPUuSDeWPeWZZGx4Cy5HrRCnckCrpbYPKk_XaVSSpgmvfW-B85L620KU1l278M0sz-DnTQ4jZ_9S-av83b2x1yYYD4UiHEg/s1600/2012-05-20_14-14-15_430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjDRxXJ6eEzQKyjn7_YsNLhCj68Uxhr4jCYUJqnXXy7nKdfPUuSDeWPeWZZGx4Cy5HrRCnckCrpbYPKk_XaVSSpgmvfW-B85L620KU1l278M0sz-DnTQ4jZ_9S-av83b2x1yYYD4UiHEg/s400/2012-05-20_14-14-15_430.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Blue skies over the Cairngorms</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcXoeXHgRK7vKiKGocIQfuQaJZDAyur2iodJ5E5bWH-B-6l-0NXX0rt42BS2AkkT0hlxoBbtl0EK_82OM4QiDVe_c96MFHPr75WGhn1xmXZfAATXIWzubgF4fuHP_OxBrZuL9Rjg7Gnk4/s1600/2012-05-20_14-14-40_770.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcXoeXHgRK7vKiKGocIQfuQaJZDAyur2iodJ5E5bWH-B-6l-0NXX0rt42BS2AkkT0hlxoBbtl0EK_82OM4QiDVe_c96MFHPr75WGhn1xmXZfAATXIWzubgF4fuHP_OxBrZuL9Rjg7Gnk4/s400/2012-05-20_14-14-40_770.jpg" width="298" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Some photos require no caption</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPvoCMMbDp0CX0UzVckNQWusYrYS2q7gYkZ0sEGNE8AAU27mUSc30uOPErK3MYACFVr8jj6_4IDWPHkFglCA9hgfHGddErNRy_CQCEbyl9a-mLMhc-FVW6GiIBt6WX8AqTjQ_fNZFh8H0/s1600/2012-05-20_18-59-47_126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPvoCMMbDp0CX0UzVckNQWusYrYS2q7gYkZ0sEGNE8AAU27mUSc30uOPErK3MYACFVr8jj6_4IDWPHkFglCA9hgfHGddErNRy_CQCEbyl9a-mLMhc-FVW6GiIBt6WX8AqTjQ_fNZFh8H0/s400/2012-05-20_18-59-47_126.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Loch Callater Lodge</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKSKS6oA7EBTpmFgvfNXNjD1V9ylBSdg1lvVIYDcMewHmcq_kU0b4uSB2WrgQk0qgCOVpgXpu3c-bl_1wZW89RIQdEM92Obhu-MB_-Mj_2z6IwJdUQ-EnpHFQ0oefP9DaB8-03kEmAT_g/s1600/2012-05-20_19-41-49_787.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKSKS6oA7EBTpmFgvfNXNjD1V9ylBSdg1lvVIYDcMewHmcq_kU0b4uSB2WrgQk0qgCOVpgXpu3c-bl_1wZW89RIQdEM92Obhu-MB_-Mj_2z6IwJdUQ-EnpHFQ0oefP9DaB8-03kEmAT_g/s400/2012-05-20_19-41-49_787.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Charles (Ngumo) and Di. Triffic pair of challenge folk.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip3vaITnsv27N3VRLk88-Mftk7WdtUjXZg_vqIYMfl5lrdixTJ6iy_C0lZ6Ql6XJkhH5i28V6SkowYpPgPoL-UnJMPtIbiMy9ITvlLirtRrrrQ7gfAOtXeoo1e1RnzHnRbiuEbMTaK2cA/s1600/2012-05-20_20-29-06_580.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip3vaITnsv27N3VRLk88-Mftk7WdtUjXZg_vqIYMfl5lrdixTJ6iy_C0lZ6Ql6XJkhH5i28V6SkowYpPgPoL-UnJMPtIbiMy9ITvlLirtRrrrQ7gfAOtXeoo1e1RnzHnRbiuEbMTaK2cA/s400/2012-05-20_20-29-06_580.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Just a Moment, is that a Laser, or two, and an Akto?</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ6ErG5LR3yszm64ev1lTUOMO8GWovZTBJNZmFHG0bkjU-q2ojGIKhQj9FfQkI92NvG2m9JkKXP9cVFGUADm6NtQkN3CIAxWUJ4VoD6SGhE1IEA0r2jYKMK3NUM1sw9I7414v-HyVH9RE/s1600/2012-05-20_20-29-48_353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ6ErG5LR3yszm64ev1lTUOMO8GWovZTBJNZmFHG0bkjU-q2ojGIKhQj9FfQkI92NvG2m9JkKXP9cVFGUADm6NtQkN3CIAxWUJ4VoD6SGhE1IEA0r2jYKMK3NUM1sw9I7414v-HyVH9RE/s400/2012-05-20_20-29-48_353.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The growing encampment at Loch Callater Lodge</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikts7xYNhX7-nMlmnbS1B7KmlRZnDJKby9LK2s3q4yOKvaqeZpSyMHTGJl2WtDO9vmpu9E62xva_757CUmF7yODKQsH-RW3UrsJsM-tG436I0MriJx_EaCeTr_4v_uw-Ej4ikRMwpzxU/s1600/2012-05-21_01-10-48_317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikts7xYNhX7-nMlmnbS1B7KmlRZnDJKby9LK2s3q4yOKvaqeZpSyMHTGJl2WtDO9vmpu9E62xva_757CUmF7yODKQsH-RW3UrsJsM-tG436I0MriJx_EaCeTr_4v_uw-Ej4ikRMwpzxU/s400/2012-05-21_01-10-48_317.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The dim, and oh so atmospheric, gas lighting of Loch Callater Lodge</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBwofvXCJhJQVZDh6xSG1jqZlPupZDh-c9qOsDpicGedUb6_PUDnps_vFch46sBw19EYEgiYvFwk501AzyxHoAet6R9XNnq2i8uO3Wcb4EQtpdYqyc7lik9Atkn9gWmeyeMKNNP-xVKnM/s1600/2012-05-20_15-49-37_741.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBwofvXCJhJQVZDh6xSG1jqZlPupZDh-c9qOsDpicGedUb6_PUDnps_vFch46sBw19EYEgiYvFwk501AzyxHoAet6R9XNnq2i8uO3Wcb4EQtpdYqyc7lik9Atkn9gWmeyeMKNNP-xVKnM/s400/2012-05-20_15-49-37_741.jpg" width="298" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The last stand?</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjde0O-Bjs-tRoHki73ALcSoRO5JQbkRosJE0-KDkoKSprwTOVTXW0BlQ_QZAsHpr-e-BlQglFrLbodLtqlSJj_jTDW-v7vWiDsiWqLy1pYVVFHzUiehq7eruJFpqZA5o3eMEzAqTYBgg8/s1600/2012-05-20_18-59-03_479.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjde0O-Bjs-tRoHki73ALcSoRO5JQbkRosJE0-KDkoKSprwTOVTXW0BlQ_QZAsHpr-e-BlQglFrLbodLtqlSJj_jTDW-v7vWiDsiWqLy1pYVVFHzUiehq7eruJFpqZA5o3eMEzAqTYBgg8/s400/2012-05-20_18-59-03_479.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Above Loch Callater</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Come back again in a few months to see if I have made it to day 11.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The Northern Lights of Old Aberdeen</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Xfso9V3lGSk?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Oh Good Ale</span></div>
Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-23562275655311187032013-07-06T17:38:00.001+01:002013-07-06T17:38:44.440+01:00TGO Challenge 2012 - Mar Lodge to Braemar<p dir=ltr>Waking at Mar Lodge in the ballroom is, at first, slightly bewildering. Tearing one's eyes open, the first thing one sees is the front-end remnants of thousands of massacred Red Deer, each gazing macabrely down with eyeless sockets. After a moment the 'fog' clears and the memory returns. Thoughts and recollections of the previous day's socialising begin to muster and you realise it is time for coffee. </p>
<p dir=ltr>I can't remember if l opted for the Mar Lodge breakfast or even if one was available. If there was, l feel sure it would have been magnificent. </p>
<p dir=ltr>There is no need to rush when there is only a couple of hours' walk ahead for the whole day. In fact in terms of pure exploration alone, l really wish l had gone through the Morven Birkwood and up to the Tomintoul view point before heading into Braemar. Instead, I chose to walk the road, bumping into many other challengers along the way. </p>
<p dir=ltr>Arriving in Braemar was a joy. I located my accomodation - an over-claimed, over-priced and under-performing "deluxe" room at the Clunie Lodge b&b - and headed straight back to town.</p>
<p dir=ltr>l remember now having breakfast at a little café with lots of pine, so I guess I didn't eat at Mar Lodge, or maybe I did both! Having only just had breakfast, it wasn't quite lunchtime, so after a coffee and a 'paper I went browsing. </p>
<p dir=ltr>Braemar Mountain Sports had a lot of visitors that day. I procured some urethane sole repair to re-stick some loose bits on my New Balance shoes. They had fared ok thus far but took a hammering coming out of Glen Feshie. The sole repair held and I am still using the shoes these days on my Sunday strolls. </p>
<p dir=ltr>Feeling a little parched, I nipped into the Fife for pre-lunch hydration. This comprised a good few pints of Belhaven "Best" (ahem!) and a glass of Royal Lochnagar "Special Reserve" (special indeed). I shared some time with Alan Callow at the Fife. Alan had swapped his Paramo for a brand new 3-layer laminated number at Aviemore. I remembered him commenting about the Paramo when l had seen him at our Findhorn camp. Clearly he is a man who confronts his gear problems head-on! </p>
<p dir=ltr>I was feeling the effects of my 'refreshments' by now so I set about ordering a plate of calories. I settled on an ironic 'Cumberland' Sausage and demolished it, swallowed another "Best" and stumbled in the sunshine back to my digs for a bit of gear sorting. I began with the odds and sods bag, putting it on the bed and tipping out all the bits in a heap next to me.</p>
<p dir=ltr>3 hours later I woke up next to the pile of bits and finished the task. </p>
<p dir=ltr>I went back into town for a head clearing gaze up the Dee from the bridge and a general mooch about. No Dippers this year, but a cool little Red Squirrel made an appearance.</p>
<p dir=ltr>The Moorfield House had promised good music, decent food and fine challenge company. It delivered on the latter two. The music, however, was shit.</p>
<p dir=ltr>I managed to locate fellow East Anglian Andrew Walker for the first time and Alan Sloman too. JJ and Louise (comatose - she'd had a rough one) arrived, Lynsey was also in attendance, heck, everyone was there. I think it was during this evening that Lynsey convinced me to alter my route on Day 10 to drop in at Callater Lodge. Apparantly it was essential. </p>
<p dir=ltr>It was late when I hobbled down the lane with 'Croydon' Mick and Alan (complete with his blister), so late that there was no time for a last pint at the Fife. So we went in anyway! My already hazy memory disappears completely here, so I assume my day reached its end. </p>
<p dir=ltr>The photographs included are all that l managed on Day 9. Sorry! </p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV7KNm4lHUGWaKUQMTz1G179BCf5vf-ND4rHY9rzLCsXK5cB7EpsQfi4MLv81iTPA7iB97Qm5-pMmC_fHi-DSwQ-KsHWxNOV31i1ahnI7YOpnvEFZnmLeQxft2F2KJ2nprpWJeeueamdE/s1600/2012-05-19_12-39-52_727.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV7KNm4lHUGWaKUQMTz1G179BCf5vf-ND4rHY9rzLCsXK5cB7EpsQfi4MLv81iTPA7iB97Qm5-pMmC_fHi-DSwQ-KsHWxNOV31i1ahnI7YOpnvEFZnmLeQxft2F2KJ2nprpWJeeueamdE/s640/2012-05-19_12-39-52_727.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb1dHBURGBXPls13Ny3_hYzkSvABmRoKqULRxyNbCZsX9SrrxZcqvh3ACTKEbYmGGFJ3fhx07DjC2_4LbiO1L8tWf6maCi4H44XtWMSGmYQPGH4KqoBxXh_iX6scee554R_ysuBp_EK10/s1600/2012-05-19_19-09-28_346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb1dHBURGBXPls13Ny3_hYzkSvABmRoKqULRxyNbCZsX9SrrxZcqvh3ACTKEbYmGGFJ3fhx07DjC2_4LbiO1L8tWf6maCi4H44XtWMSGmYQPGH4KqoBxXh_iX6scee554R_ysuBp_EK10/s640/2012-05-19_19-09-28_346.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2DNDP85BxFU3cCGTJAItY6CnC887OeriH25UBapteuC8x7aqkOBSdyhoaGkbeDrEDG0Ovh7w-3rx-q6xwLmn2q1fJhJGGB9w7SjzmeDDi0FMKomx7i5_36MIxXKUmNfaBviAUF1wa2zM/s1600/2012-05-19_23-52-52_705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2DNDP85BxFU3cCGTJAItY6CnC887OeriH25UBapteuC8x7aqkOBSdyhoaGkbeDrEDG0Ovh7w-3rx-q6xwLmn2q1fJhJGGB9w7SjzmeDDi0FMKomx7i5_36MIxXKUmNfaBviAUF1wa2zM/s640/2012-05-19_23-52-52_705.jpg"> </a> </div>Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-40185410832689257872013-04-20T12:16:00.001+01:002013-04-22T21:00:47.334+01:00TGO Challenge 2012 - Ruigh Aiteachain to Mar Lodge<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It feels like only yesterday that l was writing Day 7. It wasn't. It was months ago! Nevertheless, here is Day 8.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Waking up early in my usual 'get the day started before it's started' fashion, I crept about the bothy with great stealth. In doing so I managed to wake up both Grant and Tim from their deep and snoring slumber.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I gathered my kit together, brushed the powdery whitewash from my quilt, and packed my bag. Outside, it was beginning to snow. Just lightly but the wind was coming down the glen. I, was travelling UP the glen. As I filled my water bottle from the tiny burn above the bothy I surveyed the scene. Ruigh Aiteachain's curtilage was strewn with temporary shelters and resembled some sort of refugee camp. Looking further into Glen Feshie there were more tents, some by the trail, others tucked in behind a pine or some grassy knoll. 30 plus, maybe?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Stepping down, I bumped into Stickman who was just beginning his morning routine. We chatted for a moment and Lynsey joined us having surfaced from her tent so we chatted some more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had earmarked a spot just past White Bridge to aim for that evening, I could see the weather was a bit grim so I bade farewell to my friends and set off. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzw7uoJMYS3aXRBlgEhj6k9b41HYTXjZX8uFZAg7atyTui_rRo84xPH-geZhre36GkZ5xq-UnNJGfce250XSvJMbiYwRqy0Njij43axaxZlM39jVO47tpYiKm06TS3FzwWj_szoWfNeD0/s1600/2012-05-18_06-35-27_54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzw7uoJMYS3aXRBlgEhj6k9b41HYTXjZX8uFZAg7atyTui_rRo84xPH-geZhre36GkZ5xq-UnNJGfce250XSvJMbiYwRqy0Njij43axaxZlM39jVO47tpYiKm06TS3FzwWj_szoWfNeD0/s400/2012-05-18_06-35-27_54.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Upper Glen Feshie</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrGUha-UYxId-y6or2uyrkKqeg7POedK9uKiys8Jjqzc2jpa8sFjCSxW_uBgYVo0_4NOOIOi_vNkQ6k65md9kvuy50Udl2T-VO7vXXabXuBvCgMIIyZs6SNZSPSOuKznUOXXwNFnOIu_U/s1600/2012-05-18_06-35-35_671.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrGUha-UYxId-y6or2uyrkKqeg7POedK9uKiys8Jjqzc2jpa8sFjCSxW_uBgYVo0_4NOOIOi_vNkQ6k65md9kvuy50Udl2T-VO7vXXabXuBvCgMIIyZs6SNZSPSOuKznUOXXwNFnOIu_U/s400/2012-05-18_06-35-35_671.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Upper Glen Feshie</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDjPwJwqVTZSv6kg96vE0TtBR-lrCDSw3G_Oq-pc71BxadnTS9A4oijEpUgTTpIs8hcECMXsXlA2K81iKLOEV16Ss7eWtODn-S801Ebj0a1AcWESYbaKS7E3s6PVOUK5acEJBlHg_mdN0/s1600/2012-05-18_06-35-43_547.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDjPwJwqVTZSv6kg96vE0TtBR-lrCDSw3G_Oq-pc71BxadnTS9A4oijEpUgTTpIs8hcECMXsXlA2K81iKLOEV16Ss7eWtODn-S801Ebj0a1AcWESYbaKS7E3s6PVOUK5acEJBlHg_mdN0/s400/2012-05-18_06-35-43_547.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Upper Glen Feshie</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I passed a few landslides as the path rose above the Glen floor and imagined myself passing just at the moment they occurred. The sound deafening, and if too close, I would doubtless be drawn down with the shifting rocks and soil. I would almost certainly not survive the ordeal. Oddly, my pace (and heart rate) quickened as I passed each of the scenes of destruction where huge, mature pines had been relocated by a hundred metres or more.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTd8LY_ZD4iD7Wpvlj2i_STJQopKyEbWqQLNt0B9y0OgdWdu8n6S2cxYI8LSIWsAkpEAUgL-v4FNLyW6TfNuRg8dUwC35sRN6LPGn1eV9cvKUh3yUl5bHaZvurPl_0xogUDSpppuKF2gY/s1600/2012-05-18_07-26-09_391.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTd8LY_ZD4iD7Wpvlj2i_STJQopKyEbWqQLNt0B9y0OgdWdu8n6S2cxYI8LSIWsAkpEAUgL-v4FNLyW6TfNuRg8dUwC35sRN6LPGn1eV9cvKUh3yUl5bHaZvurPl_0xogUDSpppuKF2gY/s400/2012-05-18_07-26-09_391.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Landslide!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7MN4VT5qdK3Z0W3SFdEqJRmg8DbKmuf75yNXWFgXwWYsJgOr5MaZn902Qzf4HwF55g7Rxb5hLY0uue5KcCAXnQiQSc9ffr8tEsSbQrl18-m2acsUTa_99sQKjqLiEdjBP0U-mdrZ_968/s1600/2012-05-18_07-26-14_543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7MN4VT5qdK3Z0W3SFdEqJRmg8DbKmuf75yNXWFgXwWYsJgOr5MaZn902Qzf4HwF55g7Rxb5hLY0uue5KcCAXnQiQSc9ffr8tEsSbQrl18-m2acsUTa_99sQKjqLiEdjBP0U-mdrZ_968/s400/2012-05-18_07-26-14_543.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Landslide!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ6R4h0EmkQq-geoT6EXTZFW0JB5xzoNWNJ9FjBvAiVQQ1LfS1uL4TSYlU8bebiCetwvdwQGaTCAxTG-5KpiXc43XXTEUbm3TYx-G333ycKLHT4foAVzxaXW5aZ52nwRFpbvmypF5GnnA/s1600/2012-05-18_07-26-29_669.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ6R4h0EmkQq-geoT6EXTZFW0JB5xzoNWNJ9FjBvAiVQQ1LfS1uL4TSYlU8bebiCetwvdwQGaTCAxTG-5KpiXc43XXTEUbm3TYx-G333ycKLHT4foAVzxaXW5aZ52nwRFpbvmypF5GnnA/s400/2012-05-18_07-26-29_669.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waterfall - obviously.</td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I walked alone for most of the first hour or so and the glen was piled with atmosphere, . The paths in the uppermost part of the glen were largely thick and wet black peat, which </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">made the going quite tough. The challenge to stay upright was, interesting. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">During one of the moments I did have a companion, I slipped and slammed into the ground. Thankfully the impact was softened by the heather and mosses and I escaped without physical injury. My pride, however, was not totally unscathed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I walked with these chaps for a short while, and my memory fails me as far as their names are concerned. Folks, if you recognise yourself in these pictures, I'm sorry - please introduce yourself again in the comments.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8OKwFDKo54wHdulQVO1NxAXyIJdL5Cn_QKHSjsn-vNXD8TEFk696N6wFobMLiWjahs-pMEf09AOZhDseWPfa1HOk9s58ERM7yLLPOM9EfcCfFRKQF3Pb0WrQrF7_c0EQk7S3Nx9-bzEY/s1600/2012-05-18_09-05-20_906.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8OKwFDKo54wHdulQVO1NxAXyIJdL5Cn_QKHSjsn-vNXD8TEFk696N6wFobMLiWjahs-pMEf09AOZhDseWPfa1HOk9s58ERM7yLLPOM9EfcCfFRKQF3Pb0WrQrF7_c0EQk7S3Nx9-bzEY/s400/2012-05-18_09-05-20_906.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eidart Bridge</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAx3yt4ZbVq7_ENYM13PoTKIvremH3aY4IjmkEwv0s-hkB4HNxqd84CBxD5ldc2SDa9yAwP5esmaSy1L-dHSKI8VeZW8P4WD_SYlST5peyAEHFpEqbF4ZPP6uLn1924DY94A0cM3M9Ux4/s1600/2012-05-18_09-05-34_436.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAx3yt4ZbVq7_ENYM13PoTKIvremH3aY4IjmkEwv0s-hkB4HNxqd84CBxD5ldc2SDa9yAwP5esmaSy1L-dHSKI8VeZW8P4WD_SYlST5peyAEHFpEqbF4ZPP6uLn1924DY94A0cM3M9Ux4/s400/2012-05-18_09-05-34_436.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eidart Bridge</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq6i2i5dQDbLG-53IOFcm0A5dPTwixgYkpLVfCNywAvZCkrwdRHvtV5ouy3VBAUigjkPKgINB6ibrEyz96lodWcna8nt0ACVds4Gy4T_1aA4gUj2OfCkZb4kfQL3BGjl-mG3L2qijBkaI/s1600/2012-05-18_09-08-14_314.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq6i2i5dQDbLG-53IOFcm0A5dPTwixgYkpLVfCNywAvZCkrwdRHvtV5ouy3VBAUigjkPKgINB6ibrEyz96lodWcna8nt0ACVds4Gy4T_1aA4gUj2OfCkZb4kfQL3BGjl-mG3L2qijBkaI/s400/2012-05-18_09-08-14_314.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eidart Bridge and the innominate gentlemen</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwGIMaBET370jOhh2Vx4tzH2Dde9qLO6-JRHPwdv9v0aUR4heXXVRMQuG4nkQwdpBGpudKh6HuEWPN_-3_8lEuyFzGi_pTvaF1w9gLTDfXiFA4aHfIzdyV2IdPYs4gDOckkZyK89c9Hyo/s1600/2012-05-18_08-43-46_863.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwGIMaBET370jOhh2Vx4tzH2Dde9qLO6-JRHPwdv9v0aUR4heXXVRMQuG4nkQwdpBGpudKh6HuEWPN_-3_8lEuyFzGi_pTvaF1w9gLTDfXiFA4aHfIzdyV2IdPYs4gDOckkZyK89c9Hyo/s400/2012-05-18_08-43-46_863.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jim Davidson, where the Glen begins to top out.</td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Right about where the River Feshie bends away to the south at the top of the glen the surroundings become much more like Pennine moorland - featureless at close quarters. It was here that I became strangely disorientated and lost confidence in my position. Checking the map confirmed where I was and I set a bearing which pointed directly along the trail I was following at the time. Nevertheless I didn't believe it was right and the irrational diminution of my confidence continued. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I didn't like it, and felt very uneasy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">
I stopped to scrutinise the facts offered by the landranger, compass, and the surrounding terrain. Everything added up, yet I was still unsure. I pulled out my 'phone and fired up the mapping application. The GPS got a fix straight away and confirmed what I should have already known - I was right all along. To this day I still can't put my finger on what was going on in my head.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I reached White Bridge and dismissed it as a spot to camp. It was most uninviting, and I wasn't in the best frame of mind. I already had my spot planned out in my head and kept plodding along. As I reached my self-allocated pitch I still wasn't happy. I made the decision to get as far as Mar Lodge. I wanted company this evening.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I descended the weather improved. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The Linn of Dee was just a few minutes walk now and memories of a holiday with Mrs M came bursting into my head. It was on that holiday that Linda and I had</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> taken a walk up Lui Water to the Salmon ladder, I spent a good while taking film on my video camera that day, and found a huge Wood Ant hill and took a long time studying their movements around the colony. As these memories forced their way to the front of my mind my mood changed and I became elated. The sunshine began to poke it's way through the cloud and I practically skipped past the little signs that the Mar Lodge Estate had put up welcoming us TGO Challengers for refreshments.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh-8SdXjdBtM3Zy4ladgjbLv-Xye7h8S5Ks_WWnrZBwtNnDQj-__cNeCkWxEJo8t4U10vmGPb4Nf4c6nxzUiS1AK_Yinpn2mN-8BfoXFekLsO7ouGcDEAYM68eLkTWZFesCenZXvYZrJs/s1600/2012-05-18_13-12-47_325.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh-8SdXjdBtM3Zy4ladgjbLv-Xye7h8S5Ks_WWnrZBwtNnDQj-__cNeCkWxEJo8t4U10vmGPb4Nf4c6nxzUiS1AK_Yinpn2mN-8BfoXFekLsO7ouGcDEAYM68eLkTWZFesCenZXvYZrJs/s400/2012-05-18_13-12-47_325.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Many of you will know Mar Lodge. For those who do not, this place seems to fit in, where so many other huge shooting lodges do not when it comes to the Scottish Glens. I am thinking of Coignafearn as an example, which juts out like a boil on a maiden's face on the Findhorn. Mar Lodge is partially concealed by the trees at the bottom of the glen and for me, it works. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcAAYRNR-kBwGFKj1QvFEF6ppXsw0qlFZRgz7JjGHbrl9_wCLmzBhcItogrXRUTi1m9nziO3yIX8RgESZHi7gFcXttqlq691YMRne1Q9nh1wpoemaalv4Q10ptf4tlGo0RGGsF7XhKW0g/s1600/2012-05-18_21-25-17_874.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcAAYRNR-kBwGFKj1QvFEF6ppXsw0qlFZRgz7JjGHbrl9_wCLmzBhcItogrXRUTi1m9nziO3yIX8RgESZHi7gFcXttqlq691YMRne1Q9nh1wpoemaalv4Q10ptf4tlGo0RGGsF7XhKW0g/s400/2012-05-18_21-25-17_874.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ballroom, Mar Lodge</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0TYg3RhWBZdW9Xl_43IhIeFzGumSFPGYkdxeSdwVlDUdwneUi34VvCwGzLunrwONNjy1jAnMIwWc6aGNYdb86Pj518jLnsew5zVzZhWx24KGmOR0LXV48hBngBLD1CRPO9yKWAs4Igek/s1600/2012-05-19_10-04-43_38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0TYg3RhWBZdW9Xl_43IhIeFzGumSFPGYkdxeSdwVlDUdwneUi34VvCwGzLunrwONNjy1jAnMIwWc6aGNYdb86Pj518jLnsew5zVzZhWx24KGmOR0LXV48hBngBLD1CRPO9yKWAs4Igek/s400/2012-05-19_10-04-43_38.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mar Lodge</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I arrived at Mar Lodge and was directed to the Gun Room where all the lovely refreshments of Tea, Coffee, Soup, Rolls and the promise of a nice grassy pitch was offered. I gladly accepted all of the above and went out to pitch my tent.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU1ET5RY9cPNV-2SPAZqhtXEJh0BcfeYphQUe3jJ_sBGHXXzFWbgHR2Diu1jmTOYYVldbju62kcM3PwTKb1SaDkRUCG-GHlNdLnHhY8v_3rIclM9TeOIiq5QWG9HaUDN1Ewvonb1Aey7g/s1600/2012-05-18_17-53-34_468.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU1ET5RY9cPNV-2SPAZqhtXEJh0BcfeYphQUe3jJ_sBGHXXzFWbgHR2Diu1jmTOYYVldbju62kcM3PwTKb1SaDkRUCG-GHlNdLnHhY8v_3rIclM9TeOIiq5QWG9HaUDN1Ewvonb1Aey7g/s400/2012-05-18_17-53-34_468.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Gun Room, Mar Lodge (Lynsey, Gayle, Mick, Jim D & others)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz3wSjD2pjzWI31iYsNCPJh6dBdqyqmM5rWONWiDdqg72gwMnGXJQTOw0o0M0cNade_LO8ZYdSiTIORkEKmi0bNC9sPw5wJUACFGVruFZLuDLdHOR2hncOBGSFqpYO6xWIEl5UBsTGJYY/s1600/2012-05-18_17-53-39_530.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz3wSjD2pjzWI31iYsNCPJh6dBdqyqmM5rWONWiDdqg72gwMnGXJQTOw0o0M0cNade_LO8ZYdSiTIORkEKmi0bNC9sPw5wJUACFGVruFZLuDLdHOR2hncOBGSFqpYO6xWIEl5UBsTGJYY/s400/2012-05-18_17-53-39_530.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Gun Room, Mar Lodge (Colin, behatted)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was whilst I was waiting for my refreshments I was offered the chance to sleep in the ballroom at Mar Lodge, I had declined the offer initially, having pitched my tent, but was urged to take a look.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuPktGbsWAHNNPOZZgJ3ejxZwx2brklKFcacx3m8roqDeUAHWVmLWLTVxn2Q9glTOoaQtngoHaoV_azrkBXm1XdN-mJX7EoqUqJXE5cJ4rP0M4FQXfznaUeN7rfWbslsyIB8Rw7pHlz3Q/s1600/2012-05-18_15-13-55_845.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuPktGbsWAHNNPOZZgJ3ejxZwx2brklKFcacx3m8roqDeUAHWVmLWLTVxn2Q9glTOoaQtngoHaoV_azrkBXm1XdN-mJX7EoqUqJXE5cJ4rP0M4FQXfznaUeN7rfWbslsyIB8Rw7pHlz3Q/s400/2012-05-18_15-13-55_845.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mar Lodge Ballroom</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijSx0XAIYwo6kEIx8BmCDs7eldRhPs-fadDU1NMzpgve0OtTLt3gBxjqWo8NW0557ppHpWbAsXv5airzwiptbSwk3wWGQxR0hafDGIbmhLSNwKniOhikwLtEPVipOxmV_FEgpieNvpLIM/s1600/2012-05-18_15-14-20_413.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijSx0XAIYwo6kEIx8BmCDs7eldRhPs-fadDU1NMzpgve0OtTLt3gBxjqWo8NW0557ppHpWbAsXv5airzwiptbSwk3wWGQxR0hafDGIbmhLSNwKniOhikwLtEPVipOxmV_FEgpieNvpLIM/s400/2012-05-18_15-14-20_413.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mar Lodge Ballroom</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8yJuS_YGajj8zXtkrayUruWWhRzH06c2WCyHT966BTokIjEmVgljJZEwNGwrCvwBaxzMRj9D3hseX_h4CfIEZXHoZKBy3bMFWZn7a4T-1l6m3TaqDijd8m7RdGQfdEdbMw65yq_RAMzM/s1600/2012-05-18_15-14-33_982.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8yJuS_YGajj8zXtkrayUruWWhRzH06c2WCyHT966BTokIjEmVgljJZEwNGwrCvwBaxzMRj9D3hseX_h4CfIEZXHoZKBy3bMFWZn7a4T-1l6m3TaqDijd8m7RdGQfdEdbMw65yq_RAMzM/s400/2012-05-18_15-14-33_982.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mar Lodge Ballroom</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I accepted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I also accepted a three course dinner (with a bottle of red), use of the shower facilities and more tea, which Mick Blackburn (of Mick and Gayle origin) willingly coordinated for us all. For those of you who have yet to meet Mick and Gayle, you are missing out. They are truly great, and warm people. If if you are looking for a backpacking story, they'll not disappoint. Lovely, lovely couple. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We sat at our table in the kitchen by the Gun Room and dined like monarchs (albeit not quite in the same robes).</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy-ui4fB6AtIj0w5Yfs4rh121BRm_DFUvBsFbPu3C-1Y1nc1PkenBMEuHWu2-M0b0eMJXI1w4HQN2r13yIyuJ-k6ROLx7EkgcL3393SB327sBBBJPvCrWES34CrpfVt45CVY0Fpn3fcw0/s1600/2012-05-18_19-53-46_268.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy-ui4fB6AtIj0w5Yfs4rh121BRm_DFUvBsFbPu3C-1Y1nc1PkenBMEuHWu2-M0b0eMJXI1w4HQN2r13yIyuJ-k6ROLx7EkgcL3393SB327sBBBJPvCrWES34CrpfVt45CVY0Fpn3fcw0/s400/2012-05-18_19-53-46_268.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strike>Terry Leyland</strike>, and Alan (surname TBC)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiySajXJVYyz1GLN9Etxx58pet6Bam4Pv91gfoPrcyp65879HBCO-FDq_sngz8B3tLZui6NXmqhswBriGUsAjItn7gxahcLi81ab7XrFOrAP8C3S3-wavGv8oTTZ-StuHImEiRCjSU7FiM/s1600/2012-05-18_19-53-55_511.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiySajXJVYyz1GLN9Etxx58pet6Bam4Pv91gfoPrcyp65879HBCO-FDq_sngz8B3tLZui6NXmqhswBriGUsAjItn7gxahcLi81ab7XrFOrAP8C3S3-wavGv8oTTZ-StuHImEiRCjSU7FiM/s400/2012-05-18_19-53-55_511.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jim Davidson, and Willem Fox, the smashing chap in the middle's name escapes me - help anyone? Please.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSXhDmKo7qp1CyjjcxIehGljhBTEBVAEN4n4dfXwUhVAnQfQbtf8_e1hNLkAvZ6J2fiH_5XyVisRHyVt2DUSInhSL6l47axDnuI-yG_QOd7a_NruixaMCIBwrKifOyC5uq7kH5T2IsANY/s1600/2012-05-18_19-54-14_920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSXhDmKo7qp1CyjjcxIehGljhBTEBVAEN4n4dfXwUhVAnQfQbtf8_e1hNLkAvZ6J2fiH_5XyVisRHyVt2DUSInhSL6l47axDnuI-yG_QOd7a_NruixaMCIBwrKifOyC5uq7kH5T2IsANY/s400/2012-05-18_19-54-14_920.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mick, Gayle, My seat, Chris, and a lovely lady whose name also escapes me. This is getting embarrassing </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After dinner, we chatted, and finished our beers, wines, etc by the fire in the Gun Room. Dozens of folk passed through that evening and I retired to the Ballroom where sleeping bags we laid out battalion fashion on the floors. This took me by surprise as my kit was the only stuff laid out when I had left it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I lay there, stuffed, drunk and satisfied. Thinking of what had passed, what was to come, and before long I was fast asleep. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Just 5 miles tomorrow - into Braemar.</span></div>
Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-49190530674153392612012-11-26T22:20:00.000+00:002013-04-20T07:42:09.992+01:00TGO Challenge 2012- Kincraig to Ruigh Aiteachain (Glen Feshie)<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Like she (Louise) says, I am 'on a roll'.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So, here we have Day 7.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Waking up was not hard to do given that I had had a fantastic night's sleep. I peeled back the covers of my snug bed and practically leapt to the window for a weather forecast. It was grim. The sky was white and cold, and light scattering of snow covered the lawns. <br />
Val had suggested that Ruigh Aiteachain might be busy so I had it in my mind that I might have to push on up the glen to find a spot to pitch. It might even be wise to make for White Bridge which seemed a long way. I decided to take stock once reaching the bothy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But! I had been offered BREAKFAST! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So why would I be rushing to get out into the weather? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A selection of cereals, toast, fruit, yoghurt, well you name it. Fresh coffee or tea, fruit juice. You get the picture. I dove in. We chatted more as a cheeky Willow Warbler piped away outside the French doors. We covered topics a plenty and mostly my contribution was utter gratefulness, and most deserved it was. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After packing and repacking my bag several times, delaying the harsh reality of the task that lay ahead, I pushed myself through the door and out into the world. It was cold and wet and a keen wind was blowing from the North-east. There was a bit of wet on the wind too. Any complacency instantly diminished to nothing as I made my way lazily through the roads toward Feshiebridge where I stopped at the little store for some supplies. I was delaying again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Things had improved weather-wise and as I emerged in to the lower reaches of Glen Feshie so did my surroundings. The lichen-covered bark of the many trees that line the lane into the glen held me for a while. I took a few photos before moving on. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9QmIoSS_lxL74mdOWykubrzvtrwMyu2yCeacYpi68Ml3cta3kOhou_pF6tx1CaoSNvi9I8kJhocMcXbC6OdmI2domRsaA9254L89XYnooCd2_paYGOYheI4IXyKpC1B1T3zWMz_b-KLQ/s1600/2012-05-17_11-28-27_80.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9QmIoSS_lxL74mdOWykubrzvtrwMyu2yCeacYpi68Ml3cta3kOhou_pF6tx1CaoSNvi9I8kJhocMcXbC6OdmI2domRsaA9254L89XYnooCd2_paYGOYheI4IXyKpC1B1T3zWMz_b-KLQ/s400/2012-05-17_11-28-27_80.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I took a lichen to this lichen.</span></td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I practically bounced up the glen and en route I bumped into another challenger, Martin Angel. He too was a first timer so we shared our tales of preparation and of how we came to be on TGOC in the first place. I noticed that Martin was sporting an enormous stick (please don't read this aloud, that last observation won't come across in the same way). He had lost his poles or had left them behind and had enlisted the help of his enormous stick in the early part of his challenge but since buying some replacement poles for a tenner, he couldn't bare to leave his stick behind. Who was I to argue?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Martin had earmarked a small structure in the glen as his first brew stop. I chose to plod on up the glen and meet him again at Ruigh Aiteachain. I bounced through the firmer bits and slipped through the softer bits passing and being passed as I wended my way to my bothy. I had decided to stop inside if there was space. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I neared R.A. I felt an overwhelming presence of someone following me. I turned and almost screamed. A pony, nay, two or more had crept up on me without my realising and the largest was practically breathing down my neck. I stretched my hand out, fingers pointing downward and nuzzled my knuckles against the soft and velvety skin between it's nostrils for a tiny moment before walking on with my new friend in tow for a couple of hundred yards or so. As l entered the trees that hid the bothy from view my pal issued a long-faced stare before turning back to the grazing area where we first met. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf1V4LvNNhf5TmUOogP0jRH1cFu5xVzMwMDfT9bJUejUEJ7wE2tL4bxfnu2JC3Zh4Wozbvf6dB4aNJpjjYPBdrRxUXkJ1oATPUHVAV7NbcNipCVnyqeWClXvrWmvPOJAhxZw6OE2rzzho/s1600/2012-05-17_13-45-05_562.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf1V4LvNNhf5TmUOogP0jRH1cFu5xVzMwMDfT9bJUejUEJ7wE2tL4bxfnu2JC3Zh4Wozbvf6dB4aNJpjjYPBdrRxUXkJ1oATPUHVAV7NbcNipCVnyqeWClXvrWmvPOJAhxZw6OE2rzzho/s400/2012-05-17_13-45-05_562.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Glen Feshie Ponies</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZghWAECJMBZ3TcZAklDaMopkpBtglS7rMIXnPSYsvs8ogaXMJcPrDMomQOjI3hIO_io7Hxmq_3pE9d2FvNwVwXZ5dmEDd00lj4TNTBJ7lQRyU8fDpPevSODiGAzNrQyRJME9y8xc4h2I/s1600/2012-05-17_14-42-24_781.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZghWAECJMBZ3TcZAklDaMopkpBtglS7rMIXnPSYsvs8ogaXMJcPrDMomQOjI3hIO_io7Hxmq_3pE9d2FvNwVwXZ5dmEDd00lj4TNTBJ7lQRyU8fDpPevSODiGAzNrQyRJME9y8xc4h2I/s400/2012-05-17_14-42-24_781.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ruigh Aitecheachachainaechain Bothy</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrffa6gnyQYACebYxSYakEYDdGULbyeBnwY2HvWO5b-p0Q654dBzBTTa_Aog4e6AnGGwU4vvBhecOQMKwUWe0Ij5ihxgD_ZybAStG_InyxNestDj_k5Or20FDt8rO7mKDbLkmAgRePIUw/s1600/2012-05-17_14-43-26_582.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrffa6gnyQYACebYxSYakEYDdGULbyeBnwY2HvWO5b-p0Q654dBzBTTa_Aog4e6AnGGwU4vvBhecOQMKwUWe0Ij5ihxgD_ZybAStG_InyxNestDj_k5Or20FDt8rO7mKDbLkmAgRePIUw/s400/2012-05-17_14-43-26_582.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My commandeered platform (which I did not use)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib5Yres-SSOYyFj90izLD5CjoZgylwSWoP43XR3yc95yALLWqGBiKO3mNCKHZu6LbTyFNyYF553iHrwBLOCp-biZzO3vW3a1-QimOergNjt3ZPb4ATVrXZP3PG3G69-CqUrSVQCJquQn8/s1600/2012-05-17_14-43-34_933.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib5Yres-SSOYyFj90izLD5CjoZgylwSWoP43XR3yc95yALLWqGBiKO3mNCKHZu6LbTyFNyYF553iHrwBLOCp-biZzO3vW3a1-QimOergNjt3ZPb4ATVrXZP3PG3G69-CqUrSVQCJquQn8/s400/2012-05-17_14-43-34_933.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I wasn't sure whether this was a good sign, or not.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8R6obCzccvQNBk_LlnwxoqssLqLSFpL0WF96JqKayV75TZeGV2xmLMaQnOmpXl9oBbGW5igaFGO9s8YE21ddd4ZzW5Mu_-uqoV58I8mD9CG27hPVDUUPmWxAf7cuA68SMfT9Wzy2z_mg/s1600/2012-05-17_14-43-54_523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8R6obCzccvQNBk_LlnwxoqssLqLSFpL0WF96JqKayV75TZeGV2xmLMaQnOmpXl9oBbGW5igaFGO9s8YE21ddd4ZzW5Mu_-uqoV58I8mD9CG27hPVDUUPmWxAf7cuA68SMfT9Wzy2z_mg/s400/2012-05-17_14-43-54_523.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The 'Front Room'</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4KWvswfZgtNcEJdd-La9wq7OR3Hh0-7IDf245ZpEonNDQftP0JIzgu02SBLqVUdKGwnWnMCqsyCVjLYW-_0yh7z5koQDBgiQXVP5-CvQyxeuBXQprTbJvp01FSpvZN8KxM1tCcW4e0_Q/s1600/2012-05-17_21-04-59_188.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4KWvswfZgtNcEJdd-La9wq7OR3Hh0-7IDf245ZpEonNDQftP0JIzgu02SBLqVUdKGwnWnMCqsyCVjLYW-_0yh7z5koQDBgiQXVP5-CvQyxeuBXQprTbJvp01FSpvZN8KxM1tCcW4e0_Q/s400/2012-05-17_21-04-59_188.jpg" width="298" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The Back(side) Room</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggPPgjJLlw1XwHQUBOK2Htn0XQ0yHtvMgvyW3oYjaUJCLDaceZLgw8JX0sXDLma_6f4dIIA6TG6pGtDPfmSC8_vwVpKrD2QAPMOPsXrvh2MSJbGnu01yM1DdEtiNWhAhCqvYrvZixCMqQ/s1600/2012-05-17_21-06-17_972.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggPPgjJLlw1XwHQUBOK2Htn0XQ0yHtvMgvyW3oYjaUJCLDaceZLgw8JX0sXDLma_6f4dIIA6TG6pGtDPfmSC8_vwVpKrD2QAPMOPsXrvh2MSJbGnu01yM1DdEtiNWhAhCqvYrvZixCMqQ/s400/2012-05-17_21-06-17_972.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Tent 'Hamlet'</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ruigh Aiteachain empty as I arrived, as I recall. Or maybe just one or two were inside. I unravelled my quilt onto one of the bunks and set about making a brew. A lot of challengers came into the bothy. Some stayed, others moved on. I tried to keep note of all who stopped, if only briefly. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">They were:</span></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Martin Angel<br />
Gordon Green<br />
Frederic (and his festering feet)<br />
Gordon Scott<br />
Bill Howden<br />
Stevie O'Hara (the fire starter)<br />
Lynsey Pooler (who looked like she had been hugging a peat hag - I found out later that was exactly what had happened)<br />
Ken & Nina<br />
Eric & another person (sorry)<br />
Russ Mannion & Herman<br />
Sandy & Carol<br />
Malcolm<br />
Croydon & Morpeth<br />
John<br />
Tim<br />
Emma Warbrick (Who had us in stitches when she poked her head through the door and said "This looks nice, I'll come back in when I have taken my trousers off")<br />
Kate<br />
Stan<br />
Ian<br />
Grant (with a huge bag of logs atop his pack)<br />
Tony<br />
Rosie & Richard (I've written 'The Honey Monsters' in my notebook, gawd only knows why - please elaborate if you know the story because I can't remember)<br />
Chris</span></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So there we have it. The fire roared, the boots amassed a huge gathering by the fire and many a tale was shared. I made some pals that fine evening. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_pmbwyNGUjQeZkZUYL8MQy-gkZzKEQQmD-mukz6-_NqonCRIHaoGdQ7x24so7hmUdDlbIJirGumhO60snBqnUu4QGAHCwu4unmOp8nM5k2Wt1ZAoxZpcSNzVJeX3yZ1ZKyixQ2t0wHN8/s1600/2012-05-17_21-50-52_570.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_pmbwyNGUjQeZkZUYL8MQy-gkZzKEQQmD-mukz6-_NqonCRIHaoGdQ7x24so7hmUdDlbIJirGumhO60snBqnUu4QGAHCwu4unmOp8nM5k2Wt1ZAoxZpcSNzVJeX3yZ1ZKyixQ2t0wHN8/s400/2012-05-17_21-50-52_570.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13.513513565063477px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Feshie Fireside Footwear Fetish</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8rrnV4-f-03oye3evewtrqEtlomnazxv8AkpuzW1uEyY0iR-tQfrORAN52idbIKXOoJ7ugP_sL0RdIJa1XoFuAnHRpRaFjaAtYY0oGx3N0k6QeF-YLsmLfEz-CsHrntWqSrc1AQdQBZg/s1600/2012-05-17_18-01-21_515.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8rrnV4-f-03oye3evewtrqEtlomnazxv8AkpuzW1uEyY0iR-tQfrORAN52idbIKXOoJ7ugP_sL0RdIJa1XoFuAnHRpRaFjaAtYY0oGx3N0k6QeF-YLsmLfEz-CsHrntWqSrc1AQdQBZg/s400/2012-05-17_18-01-21_515.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Stevie O'Hara and Sandy</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM7f_7hnIJUelqAdIMc3jq3HAo_lSW9lmiYYXxc8iKA5EvaKeAUWwNRw1e1dp0mCUF9PdrcXtu7fIpZH8Qc-Vd_fbYxnXiH7-4ZvJRGouSyt-4037mrfdMN01VMCVDSwB1R_MvMN8aiBg/s1600/2012-05-17_18-01-28_321.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM7f_7hnIJUelqAdIMc3jq3HAo_lSW9lmiYYXxc8iKA5EvaKeAUWwNRw1e1dp0mCUF9PdrcXtu7fIpZH8Qc-Vd_fbYxnXiH7-4ZvJRGouSyt-4037mrfdMN01VMCVDSwB1R_MvMN8aiBg/s400/2012-05-17_18-01-28_321.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Martin Angel, Gordon Green, and my now good pal, Lynsey Pooler.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwbcN5V9flHsy2UpsKWQEh4FMHxrbalzjKQkWbWzdxWO5tMI6800jtpjgCYtlQgQNeVmKb3TuMxHpUr3u9ol1fbu7ouZvQaEckTJ0djMsTfGtTYe-OGQobRni1DhSMZen-VeGJqE2lL2E/s1600/2012-05-18_06-17-44_430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwbcN5V9flHsy2UpsKWQEh4FMHxrbalzjKQkWbWzdxWO5tMI6800jtpjgCYtlQgQNeVmKb3TuMxHpUr3u9ol1fbu7ouZvQaEckTJ0djMsTfGtTYe-OGQobRni1DhSMZen-VeGJqE2lL2E/s400/2012-05-18_06-17-44_430.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">View from the water spout</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Whisky was shared and feet were dressed. Meals were cooked and fingers burnt. I promised myself an early start in the morning but the fact I had elected to stay inside made for a late night. I didn't care. I wanted at least one bothy night on my crossing and this was it. I even had a little bit of home with me, my wife lit up my life from afar.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj0Be1IeFT_j5O5AhDsdB8fvZ-qrOfYjy8rfc9i-HKr3AA4l_wqJO-3Yyi_6MeAoACkKxL573EXKDVo5WdozWI91wXkrTRZVR6s7rK16_YuWbZA73dX1CYHWEJh8rveoxkZQ9QsrZ50rE/s1600/2012-05-17_22-02-18_753.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj0Be1IeFT_j5O5AhDsdB8fvZ-qrOfYjy8rfc9i-HKr3AA4l_wqJO-3Yyi_6MeAoACkKxL573EXKDVo5WdozWI91wXkrTRZVR6s7rK16_YuWbZA73dX1CYHWEJh8rveoxkZQ9QsrZ50rE/s400/2012-05-17_22-02-18_753.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13.513513565063477px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">PartyLite Tealights, courtesy of the wonderful and lovely Mrs M</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I would not have missed it for the world. </span></div>
Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-83610109584687045642012-11-25T22:43:00.001+00:002012-11-26T22:45:22.519+00:00TGO Challenge 2012 - Coignafearn to Kincraig<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You've all been very <strike>im</strike>patient. Well done.</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Here is day 6.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You'll be unsurprised to discover that I was out of my pit and walking early away down the Findhorn. By the ruins, a pair of challengers - Richard was one of them, I am embarrassed to say that I have forgotten the other chap's name. It had been a cold night and we shared a few experiences of the challenge so far, and bits about our home towns etc. before Richard (I think) gave me pointer for the ascent up Allt a'Mhuilinn.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8jCSqJ74PbDspOuLgu_GevrGq-30HNAMr-9m4ZYuXGOvSJauvRMGzvfGLbtJogi_JHO7_a4h_-pedcQPm43z0H052BATEqrVEpoqdnco8MeVIBCRBOZLB-LpjcJZdiTpTYVhr9NSTSeA/s1600/2012-05-16_09-32-37_554.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8jCSqJ74PbDspOuLgu_GevrGq-30HNAMr-9m4ZYuXGOvSJauvRMGzvfGLbtJogi_JHO7_a4h_-pedcQPm43z0H052BATEqrVEpoqdnco8MeVIBCRBOZLB-LpjcJZdiTpTYVhr9NSTSeA/s400/2012-05-16_09-32-37_554.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Allt a'Mhuilinn</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8VwgVCy64VyetD8Hlah3Iw86iZpM2z3QTYFU7k6oXGV8VoZ9tWjPgIhO84QYNVyHao_Iao0Ne2UmCy99hxhcidPHAHQWo0WdBc5_JeF5mBV5eLm-ykFEM8ZM_iGTtzPXCjg7cCUGkM8k/s1600/2012-05-16_10-17-26_580.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8VwgVCy64VyetD8Hlah3Iw86iZpM2z3QTYFU7k6oXGV8VoZ9tWjPgIhO84QYNVyHao_Iao0Ne2UmCy99hxhcidPHAHQWo0WdBc5_JeF5mBV5eLm-ykFEM8ZM_iGTtzPXCjg7cCUGkM8k/s400/2012-05-16_10-17-26_580.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grouse eggs</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The banks began to rise above me as I climbed, and with every step the clouds met me with more menace. Snow sprinkled over me from the West, assisted by a steady and stiff breeze. Between those wintry showers, the sun shone strongly, warming and drying me as I walked. Sloshing through the tiny, and not so tiny burns was lovely as my feet quickly became refreshed with each drenching.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRXLjBj3gUvsTkHvUzReA-s7VmP4aFLAgoKZR7IYmN6lF5SVyotEKroCn2vcVKp-sIAgpe6v_fyTmJxIfcQfizKvH_Fbakmecg48yoX9a_4Bm4ZGhxWvGrBcS5p63zKnXseTzTYFRNN-4/s1600/2012-05-16_10-50-47_789.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRXLjBj3gUvsTkHvUzReA-s7VmP4aFLAgoKZR7IYmN6lF5SVyotEKroCn2vcVKp-sIAgpe6v_fyTmJxIfcQfizKvH_Fbakmecg48yoX9a_4Bm4ZGhxWvGrBcS5p63zKnXseTzTYFRNN-4/s400/2012-05-16_10-50-47_789.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Winter?</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The higher parts of the Monadhliath took me again, not quite as strongly as the day before. Today was different. They felt homely now. I was comfortable with them, so comfortable. It was a shame to descend to the Dulnain, I thought - but even the descent had it's charms. Staying high above the Allt Spioradail the heather whipped my shins and from time to time I slipped on the grimy, wet, lightly eroded peaty soil. I moved away from the steepening banks of the Spioradail - I'm risk averse, I am.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And then, the first bridge.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih63yX_jflyTWwrtzYpvflE9HMrsbabK-4lpYHXyC3wiqIdh7zgvg1VA3lkE5oilK-d0_pz2N-tjeVvV8mxHsc_fGOP5xDhsijYUMBAZuiav5E7_0d2AdLtvr0B2a-eak8p4vTlACydq4/s1600/2012-05-16_12-14-44_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih63yX_jflyTWwrtzYpvflE9HMrsbabK-4lpYHXyC3wiqIdh7zgvg1VA3lkE5oilK-d0_pz2N-tjeVvV8mxHsc_fGOP5xDhsijYUMBAZuiav5E7_0d2AdLtvr0B2a-eak8p4vTlACydq4/s400/2012-05-16_12-14-44_7.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Bridge over the Spioradail - frightening?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> After crossing the bridge of questionable integrity, I headed straight from Dulnain Bothy. It was deserted, and I sat a while leafing through the pages of the log. I'll leave you to do the same (I focussed on reading the 'TGO' dates).</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7O6z0I4DFswEIdpbBtwbwBq5kjSRlVq807oQdmSKCkVAq7RZorR3um63PHXP_aCFQnuH5DzkQgMqwAt_m7IELNaVs6Tu9589s0DBk-Cw5urNuBzzTCGwILuxCrO5mzacW1gA1LE0sT-4/s1600/2012-05-16_12-24-17_265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7O6z0I4DFswEIdpbBtwbwBq5kjSRlVq807oQdmSKCkVAq7RZorR3um63PHXP_aCFQnuH5DzkQgMqwAt_m7IELNaVs6Tu9589s0DBk-Cw5urNuBzzTCGwILuxCrO5mzacW1gA1LE0sT-4/s400/2012-05-16_12-24-17_265.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycqQ6A2aiejg7gYfnmvM61umQwnWXMrPkM8Chosi5fqcupnjeyyS4a-rYjan3b8E_UwOmL6zoOI8hs8in7NH5jMplcTf7wpEaSXcCfLtmgxaiczw4lZ3MaEWvEJC_kicgR9rPDwDKtlg/s1600/2012-05-16_12-26-56_77.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycqQ6A2aiejg7gYfnmvM61umQwnWXMrPkM8Chosi5fqcupnjeyyS4a-rYjan3b8E_UwOmL6zoOI8hs8in7NH5jMplcTf7wpEaSXcCfLtmgxaiczw4lZ3MaEWvEJC_kicgR9rPDwDKtlg/s400/2012-05-16_12-26-56_77.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCcb6F7wms_wzlnqL8MJ4drHg30_Ysb4IWJaxyRq5uWKrsBhpu4dQL_xnUaJLfMmbsaOy8sBNUQwqfk36fQ0rz1PezYRxg1wl3AL8dkVMNnFLGU6B0BtTvEwsJB-23C6wnGZ0pKRuMTew/s1600/2012-05-16_12-27-38_992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCcb6F7wms_wzlnqL8MJ4drHg30_Ysb4IWJaxyRq5uWKrsBhpu4dQL_xnUaJLfMmbsaOy8sBNUQwqfk36fQ0rz1PezYRxg1wl3AL8dkVMNnFLGU6B0BtTvEwsJB-23C6wnGZ0pKRuMTew/s400/2012-05-16_12-27-38_992.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEILbfdkQ8aMqf4eKDchIpl7AweLiDBD_nSFVxClmoacvdwTW_6hzrjQkJwaIs6MVkpt408kne30tqxC_X7rCARPwpBQKY1e2x4q3Ya-mney5RvwoV44zgQB4Ucr0kv_Gx3BH3kMKy6f8/s1600/2012-05-16_12-28-12_991.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEILbfdkQ8aMqf4eKDchIpl7AweLiDBD_nSFVxClmoacvdwTW_6hzrjQkJwaIs6MVkpt408kne30tqxC_X7rCARPwpBQKY1e2x4q3Ya-mney5RvwoV44zgQB4Ucr0kv_Gx3BH3kMKy6f8/s400/2012-05-16_12-28-12_991.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaN6baOfxJ8ieHCca_NiA9hnuzZsipBsUZWUoAVzQKICwVzOIDhujr33-Dm_2nsSHkT-iHF1kjrlrnDQqWLYaTJc7Jr5N9MY2Ro-8iYKXrpOAtsUz033_QX4fmcO8XWj3jMkDZzcXf-E0/s1600/2012-05-16_12-44-42_627.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaN6baOfxJ8ieHCca_NiA9hnuzZsipBsUZWUoAVzQKICwVzOIDhujr33-Dm_2nsSHkT-iHF1kjrlrnDQqWLYaTJc7Jr5N9MY2Ro-8iYKXrpOAtsUz033_QX4fmcO8XWj3jMkDZzcXf-E0/s400/2012-05-16_12-44-42_627.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The second bridge of questionable integrity. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD3-_CabrnMjRWIfUCyVIEXmihiDHhIqRMdwWTRL1V_xEp_4vE0c89Ce9ZUILqgoXMHUbscGn29M0xspKWV7eRm5GAXo6gB1AhAzf0QASYUBM7B5vdEIejq6AiVRBXrztFaL4SkUVPiX0/s1600/2012-05-16_12-45-21_72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD3-_CabrnMjRWIfUCyVIEXmihiDHhIqRMdwWTRL1V_xEp_4vE0c89Ce9ZUILqgoXMHUbscGn29M0xspKWV7eRm5GAXo6gB1AhAzf0QASYUBM7B5vdEIejq6AiVRBXrztFaL4SkUVPiX0/s400/2012-05-16_12-45-21_72.jpg" width="298" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The second bridge of questionable integrity, up close.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> It looked rough, and the water was neither deep, nor fast. So as any wise, and risk averse man would do, I walked on the rotten planks of the bridge, for the thrill of it. I'm occasionally perverse, like that. I like wading and thrashing through bracken too, as some of you may know.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A track made for fast progress over the next set of hills, the far Eastern Monadhliath and it would lead me over to the Allt na Cornlaraiche and down into Kincraig. I had a nice lawn to camp on, courtesy of a tip-off by <a href="http://davewoodwalks.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">David Wood </a>and of the generosity of Val & Dave Machin. Despite me having never met them, they were picking up some gas for me and had accepted parcel, too. How nice is that!?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The fast progress was slowed as I began my descent by the gnarled and churned soils caused by an enormous earthmoving dumper-truck. The driver was pleasant enough, but the destructive undertone of the situation rang through, loud and clear. The wildness of these hills would soon be lost for the foreseeable future. Google "wind turbine", "monadhliath", and "<a href="http://alansloman.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Alan Sloman</a>" for more on this. I won't dwell on this awful situation, but it IS WORTH PAYING ATTENTION TO - so go and read about it!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikiAT_WqHF6om7SjzuA1WDtScZ7wHeaQmcSs9EBLTrB53tAMX-WerMuIJpHUpl_ZuBvDQZsVBNuoJwZBF14_Lph6REWL1wD7S90axr7AxnPGsZ8xq9MkoFhfE6gfYfhLtM7YCSUDe4x1k/s400/2012-05-16_14-21-32_855.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Stag Bothy - a comprehensive mountain shelter. </span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikiAT_WqHF6om7SjzuA1WDtScZ7wHeaQmcSs9EBLTrB53tAMX-WerMuIJpHUpl_ZuBvDQZsVBNuoJwZBF14_Lph6REWL1wD7S90axr7AxnPGsZ8xq9MkoFhfE6gfYfhLtM7YCSUDe4x1k/s1600/2012-05-16_14-21-32_855.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I passed Stag Bothy which is a particularly elaborate mountain shelter, in a woodland setting. It's only a few miles walk out of Kincraig so I couldn't help thinking that it would be little used. I was hell-bent by now on getting to the Machin's place and getting pitched up and sorted out before heading for a beer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was fairly well worn out by the time I reached the road, and there was a mile or so of road before I was to reach their place. I had had enough by then.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was raining, and I arrived at the Machin's door in a rough state. I think I looked better than I felt, but I know I wasn't the freshest fella that had graced them with their presence. Val came to the door and welcomed me in, she and Dave had arrived back that day from <a href="http://alansloman.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Alan </a>and <a href="http://akkwalks.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Andrew's </a>Cheese & Wine party with a bit of a headache, so I remember. There was a pile of kit in their hall. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Before I could ask where I was to pitch, Val said that I should stay in the house rather than in my tent. Inside I was ready to hug her, my body screaming YES YES YES YES!!!! I reservedly offered that I was more than happy to pitch the tent, but if she was sure? I doub't I have ever been more grateful IN MY LIFE. Total strangers, never ever met them before. IT was good enough that they would get me a tin of gas, let alone camp on their lawn, but sleep in their house? Bewilderingly generous.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAEzGPTPhOxOujdVEw837xd0130VbBT1fGlEKhMTo_jKZdiUCVZyBdhAAnWTeqpdR9-YJujHCbmyT_ufKM-kRatVjPA1UvDMKJLv17aN36dCsVnq7yc8gK0i-NtDzuEoWwmuqscL-0OLQ/s1600/2012-05-17_07-53-43_15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAEzGPTPhOxOujdVEw837xd0130VbBT1fGlEKhMTo_jKZdiUCVZyBdhAAnWTeqpdR9-YJujHCbmyT_ufKM-kRatVjPA1UvDMKJLv17aN36dCsVnq7yc8gK0i-NtDzuEoWwmuqscL-0OLQ/s400/2012-05-17_07-53-43_15.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My 'Kincraig' pitch</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Val introduced me to Dave and we chatted about stuff, including but not limited to challenge tales. I showered, and managed to get my kit washed too. I headed down to the kitchen and Val suggested I go to the pub with Dave while she cooked us all some dinner. "I hope vegetarian lasagne is OK?, we don't eat meat". Was it!? Of course it was flaming OK! Dave was taking me to the pub for a beer and she was cooking me dinner. I'd eat the bumper off a rusty car, if she had offered it!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Their house was almost spanking new. It had been personalised with Himalayan prayer flags, and the downstairs cloakroom was decorated with more TGO Challlenge posters and badges than you could shake a stick at. Photos of one or the other Machin, or even both at the start, finish, or during some far flung hike, mountain marathon, race or event. These guys are go-getters. On self-powered travel and challenge, I've yet to knowingly meet a more 'involved' pair.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Decked out in pertex and cheap crocs I ducked through the door of the bar with Dave. I insisted on buying the beer, despite Dave offering to buy me one. We scanned the patrons at the Suie, no challengers were about.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After a pint or two of Tradewinds we dashed back in time for food and wine and more fantastic hospitality. We chatted long into the evening (for me), before I could keep my eyes open no longer and I retired. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'll never forget that evening, and Val and Dave's hospitality. They are truly embedded in the spirit of the 'challenge'.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The warmth and comfort of my spotless, ensuite room absorbed me before I had much time to do anything. I quickly began a free-fall into the most lovely deep sleep.</span></div>
Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-35608512041954337392012-08-22T21:25:00.001+01:002012-08-22T21:25:07.456+01:00TGO Challenge 2012 - Aultnagoire to Coignafearn<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I woke in the morning to the sound of a magically played fiddle. Alex Sutherland was stretching his bow arm. The sound evoked all the things I think about the Highlands in a single, brief moment.</span><div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Filtered coffee, breakfast cereal, fruit. A full English (yes, English) breakfast. Fresh orange juice. I was fortified. I dragged my heels a mite. Got myself packed away between brief, light showers. Bryan Waddington had suggested he was opting for a route change. A bit of knee bother had him seeking a route with less UP. He said he was thinking of "calling it in". I gasped "you can't!". I should have realised that he didn't mean he wanted to pack it in. He phoned in his route change and set off. Or maybe I set off first. I can't remember.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I hit the road and was joined by the first off the MV Morag that day - Simon (Hutchinson - I think) and Iain Robinson were heading up the road and into the Monadhliath. I walked with them for a while until my path whipped me into solitude again. The sun was bright, strong. I was blessed with the weather that day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0g-BYjeu56BwR7yRp4FC_mBKmAgSbbKMH7OhSnYPgFX-eOY8X8EBJhcAfMGw5xV-3vNgN4orL84wZadH74Iq4hN9_OZByHINcCDMixJ7GGh_Qg3CQ4fpjPmC_fOLUBJ8QtnZtN25xt1s/s1600/2012-05-15_11-06-17_211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0g-BYjeu56BwR7yRp4FC_mBKmAgSbbKMH7OhSnYPgFX-eOY8X8EBJhcAfMGw5xV-3vNgN4orL84wZadH74Iq4hN9_OZByHINcCDMixJ7GGh_Qg3CQ4fpjPmC_fOLUBJ8QtnZtN25xt1s/s400/2012-05-15_11-06-17_211.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Loch Mhór</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaI5VkTatLvn5qenfw5xacp2Gy8Qc2sWPoYzHWjm0F8Xtm8fTaD47KO2UWzXFz-Hx9VXe28GTNYOuyhvLrTGVVM-grxAiAFLi9jo7VAQSe0sJnW5PJZw4FhSrQqKZMv-tjleZT-uuvWfA/s1600/2012-05-15_11-53-50_953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaI5VkTatLvn5qenfw5xacp2Gy8Qc2sWPoYzHWjm0F8Xtm8fTaD47KO2UWzXFz-Hx9VXe28GTNYOuyhvLrTGVVM-grxAiAFLi9jo7VAQSe0sJnW5PJZw4FhSrQqKZMv-tjleZT-uuvWfA/s400/2012-05-15_11-53-50_953.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The LRT above Wester Abercalder</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The road turned into lane, and the lane into a track and my route lay through the heather on the western flanks of the wild mountains and moors of the Monadhliath Mountains. I kept checking my map, to be sure I was inserting myself at the right point. The burnt sections of heath were the easiest going, and as a Common Lizard skipped through the vegetation beneath my feet I turned to look west. The view floored me.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_UFGgz0gyJFb7MzwED6nyX9DhJ2sGz4Z54ClHPkPVjaSxuSPczI0LVRyIUWJeGHykWw9-g1WYIJ0RaItln9ySOMfKOABQZuSC8b6JmZdUizTJQIe3CviVaBbuQnApRImE0Pczi1WXxCg/s1600/2012-05-15_13-03-28_573.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_UFGgz0gyJFb7MzwED6nyX9DhJ2sGz4Z54ClHPkPVjaSxuSPczI0LVRyIUWJeGHykWw9-g1WYIJ0RaItln9ySOMfKOABQZuSC8b6JmZdUizTJQIe3CviVaBbuQnApRImE0Pczi1WXxCg/s400/2012-05-15_13-03-28_573.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The distant, Western Highlands of Scotland.</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">All those snow-capped peaks and ridges were stretched out. They filled the horizon. Brilliant white, beneath a thin ribbon of darkened cloud and a huge tarpaulin of super-blue sky. I was higher now, and I pivoted slowly casting my gaze south. A Golden Eagle was cruising above the high moors. To the north a lone, defunct turbine hung it's partially amputated head in shame. I tried to ignore it, but it loitered in my peripheral vision. The elephant in the room. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The ribbon of darkened cloud grew wider. Weather began to develop. It was westerly, and thankfully so. It arrived on my back, primarily as a determined group of gusts. Strengthening, the flakes began to fall. The warmth disappeared, instantly. I layered up, and continued up, and through lovely, winding mini-glens. Visibility came and went with the wannabe-blizzards. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjej5lKUps2wtpt1xd-qtXRcyZ8cVK8qMc7Xlm4RlnOPwtsdGV0N13PurcxcvIoxgu33zto1h-0VaPpDoJH-7EzVs1nz4eSo0i3HrBgQHKAvg6K8UaMtHYi3PpfUM2sH1EJJ2tWh-1UNho/s1600/2012-05-15_14-06-19_297.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjej5lKUps2wtpt1xd-qtXRcyZ8cVK8qMc7Xlm4RlnOPwtsdGV0N13PurcxcvIoxgu33zto1h-0VaPpDoJH-7EzVs1nz4eSo0i3HrBgQHKAvg6K8UaMtHYi3PpfUM2sH1EJJ2tWh-1UNho/s400/2012-05-15_14-06-19_297.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A wannabe-blizzard and the perfect mini-glen.</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Burns crossed my path more regularly now. I gave up tiptoeing on the rocks and stomped confidently through the flows of each. I liked the way they cooled my feet. I drank from every other burn. I needn't have carried the litre of water I got at the Sutherland's croft. Not knowing the Monadhliath I opted not to trust the map. I won't worry so much the next time. These hills are the perfect walking location.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4-9zF5zQmANeFSMHt2NBYM3StfRtFjTWAMtWYih1yKsTzobDRAAoCAlJfLJZzdBFJE9Evsl-Ce5K1Hfj45HIzDfk0e8X03E4vfkIy4rSGUAMrbu4lW0uTINfKVRJ-0v1dhVZfN0DSg30/s1600/2012-05-15_14-49-27_988.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4-9zF5zQmANeFSMHt2NBYM3StfRtFjTWAMtWYih1yKsTzobDRAAoCAlJfLJZzdBFJE9Evsl-Ce5K1Hfj45HIzDfk0e8X03E4vfkIy4rSGUAMrbu4lW0uTINfKVRJ-0v1dhVZfN0DSg30/s400/2012-05-15_14-49-27_988.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The termination of the LRT beneath Carn na Saobhaidhe.<br />The track was vulgar, but useful.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVypzMca2DRBNO8ywqAN44n3JeJwUnB2XeV6Gn7Gm1PwcIImj3CViiBTFYTaABWbo0-kX-35xWWp-WyksMCy2VfhZ8mh8fNflQdjfhvMbyI_vktEAwMHekx5DaOO_XcfVr0_K8LP07t30/s1600/2012-05-15_15-51-58_722.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVypzMca2DRBNO8ywqAN44n3JeJwUnB2XeV6Gn7Gm1PwcIImj3CViiBTFYTaABWbo0-kX-35xWWp-WyksMCy2VfhZ8mh8fNflQdjfhvMbyI_vktEAwMHekx5DaOO_XcfVr0_K8LP07t30/s400/2012-05-15_15-51-58_722.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The lovely Allt Odhar</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The landrover track, which I presume was in place for the construction of more turbines helped me up to just beneath the summit of Carn na Saobhaidhe on the bealach where I took a bearing and selected to handrail using the tributary to the Allt Odhar. This was fine, wet ground after a short period of heavy bog-hopping. The lovely Allt became my tractor beam sucking me down toward the old bothy at Dalbeg. A lone challenger was pitching his tent by the upper stretches of the Findhorn. I was ready to stop, but I had a target to get as far up the Findhorn as I could before camping. The weather was good, and I made for Coignafearn (old lodge).</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC1UpAKt-9smwbO8821qAkhCPOpHiqOLKa8oIq0cnr8AIsqdVJeHUv6_GpOMvbcIyQJybjsAaL_jK2Lch4iWUV1fpKJmVfnxGpr9vtF4YlnJqfkXGY8EsSJR0w9x2Rx1d2tIwPqOcZkKo/s1600/2012-05-15_16-16-58_320.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC1UpAKt-9smwbO8821qAkhCPOpHiqOLKa8oIq0cnr8AIsqdVJeHUv6_GpOMvbcIyQJybjsAaL_jK2Lch4iWUV1fpKJmVfnxGpr9vtF4YlnJqfkXGY8EsSJR0w9x2Rx1d2tIwPqOcZkKo/s400/2012-05-15_16-16-58_320.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">First glimpses of the Findhorn valley</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPXNhajmobwgckCsWGbrdwg1hCw0RaxTFgm6VXXzu2vz7plsbzQ5uMhMAeHwhIrscnngzLYhhIRW2eVsFN_Hiht__hp4gRa6Wb5OjWF0c4oNb71yVj1JauyKeIauaQRUOQe7FhC0TS01A/s1600/2012-05-15_17-14-53_661.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPXNhajmobwgckCsWGbrdwg1hCw0RaxTFgm6VXXzu2vz7plsbzQ5uMhMAeHwhIrscnngzLYhhIRW2eVsFN_Hiht__hp4gRa6Wb5OjWF0c4oNb71yVj1JauyKeIauaQRUOQe7FhC0TS01A/s400/2012-05-15_17-14-53_661.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The new lodge of Coignafearn. A mighty, and slightly oppressive building.</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I struggled to cope with the loveliness of this glen. It was there, for all to see and use, yet no-one, not even the wealthy freeholders of the Coignafearn structures seemed to be present. It remained a place of solitude for some time until I happened upon two birdwatchers, looking for eagles and another lone backpacker. Andy Howell was pitching his shelter by the bridge, south of the old lodge. I stopped for a chat and decided to pitch nearby. It was a good spot, and the company was welcome.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I pitched, Alan Callow, Alistair and Eddy arrived - not necessarily in that order. The light was perfect, if occasionally interrupted by snowy squalls. A solitary Golden Eagle broke the skyline to our southeast, dashing into the glen before making way up a tree-filled re-entrant behind the lodge. This was a moment to cherish. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibC4k0XYyc0id4YBAy2UuxJab04FJyNKdjps9mK2KNRRGZi-zXJEN4uJELaPzf0-Gi9kAXd-kLofk7lRcVQBsI5Na9Mwr2MH1pxFL327yBAzumXl8o05Llk90ri3VYk_E9m5SmJ1LwiaA/s1600/2012-05-15_19-28-22_356.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibC4k0XYyc0id4YBAy2UuxJab04FJyNKdjps9mK2KNRRGZi-zXJEN4uJELaPzf0-Gi9kAXd-kLofk7lRcVQBsI5Na9Mwr2MH1pxFL327yBAzumXl8o05Llk90ri3VYk_E9m5SmJ1LwiaA/s400/2012-05-15_19-28-22_356.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This is my favourite photo from the challenge. My spot beside the Elrick Burn.</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In Drumnadrochit I had the foresight to purchase two cans of Tennents Super (the superlighter's lager equivalent - four cans for the weight of two). With my tent pitched, I cracked one open and soaked it up. It took effect within moments and eased the edge from my stinging feet. It was the first time I had noticed my feet hurting since day two on the road into Cannich. Trainers really do add to the comfort, be them wet or dry.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I chatted with Al, Eddy and Alan - Andy Howell had ensconced himself in his tent proclaiming "I've got my shoes off, have applied my foot cream, and I am in my bag. I ain't coming out for anyone." It was before 8pm!. Alistair and I continued talking to the fabric of Andy's shelter for a short while before giving up and chatting until the cold air got the better of us. We retired to our shelters by 8.30. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvvGZl7Z-IQPcVClTtSQqHHQ1AMBMdjd-IaIltO9oD2j7lJs2l4FVK4t7CxMgMQCvIl1Rdya87EIwQGa17tuQUvW1GGTPK9KjyY4tfY6KHMmcgy_HY-GIumZApVs4WWH352Gi85RhzXA/s1600/2012-05-15_19-25-09_219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvvGZl7Z-IQPcVClTtSQqHHQ1AMBMdjd-IaIltO9oD2j7lJs2l4FVK4t7CxMgMQCvIl1Rdya87EIwQGa17tuQUvW1GGTPK9KjyY4tfY6KHMmcgy_HY-GIumZApVs4WWH352Gi85RhzXA/s400/2012-05-15_19-25-09_219.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A Findhorn Encampent</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiieD6XcSqh8WNBjdmFhIgPLVPvOLfzOV23GaCn94owJn-0vHwwutfSiI7mfkSExTrQYk_TMTadx-xXcM6gxjX2HsaJ3LEepQ4QeSCGbeGBqIOldC7Ms6WtpM87DOz8WBuDG2jnZsFqSPE/s1600/2012-05-15_19-25-32_124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiieD6XcSqh8WNBjdmFhIgPLVPvOLfzOV23GaCn94owJn-0vHwwutfSiI7mfkSExTrQYk_TMTadx-xXcM6gxjX2HsaJ3LEepQ4QeSCGbeGBqIOldC7Ms6WtpM87DOz8WBuDG2jnZsFqSPE/s400/2012-05-15_19-25-32_124.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A Moment on the Elrick Burn</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj18YmxttSkws1i2YL5Xg1G8Ai-6LJlpauGFSEjjysESwGvwvUfc1vcBJECt-JK3pMQVnLQB-seld6RsyfURsJWr1EsUn3MxNLc1awQ1n8lpz4O4ZZwtfvOS9bZhtuyYIkFZE9xudp0FeU/s1600/2012-05-15_19-28-11_273.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj18YmxttSkws1i2YL5Xg1G8Ai-6LJlpauGFSEjjysESwGvwvUfc1vcBJECt-JK3pMQVnLQB-seld6RsyfURsJWr1EsUn3MxNLc1awQ1n8lpz4O4ZZwtfvOS9bZhtuyYIkFZE9xudp0FeU/s400/2012-05-15_19-28-11_273.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Look, it's waterproof.</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I cooked up a great deal of my food, most of which was untouched. I had bought and packed to excess. Tomorrow I would get a re-supply of meals and a bar meal. I scoffed two or three foil pouches of dried grub, and several oatcakes. It was washed down with glugs of malt. I was becoming warmer with every minute, despite plummeting temperatures.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyc8NwI7yeUdjWtklZa7NrriJ6tx5EaBugyn8bAYK41Hc1WFhfHhCK9JpIB3yDJYDXOfU80b0yQ0WQlABueQnfml5CFzjMr5bwP4S-H7RdY5S0Y_mvk3uChLn2IOASJ2RwG83qwX2-JKo/s1600/2012-05-16_07-52-01_633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyc8NwI7yeUdjWtklZa7NrriJ6tx5EaBugyn8bAYK41Hc1WFhfHhCK9JpIB3yDJYDXOfU80b0yQ0WQlABueQnfml5CFzjMr5bwP4S-H7RdY5S0Y_mvk3uChLn2IOASJ2RwG83qwX2-JKo/s400/2012-05-16_07-52-01_633.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Snr Waddington. A veritable dude. Look at him smile, like a pig in poo-poo!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Alan had retired by now so I was enjoying my stupor alone until I looked up and saw two beRonhill-ed legs standing strong, flanked by a pair of trekking poles. Bryan Waddington. I was delighted to see him. He was doing great, despite running a little later than most. It was 9.00 when he showed up. We chin-wagged with gusto and as the light faded, and the mercury sunk we crawled back in our holes and slept. Snow was falling in squalls once again, and through the night. It was cold. I was drunk, and coated with what felt like a ready-brek glow. </span></div>
Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-32778557667418868062012-07-09T22:45:00.001+01:002012-07-09T22:45:44.639+01:00TGO Challenge 2012 – Cannich to Drumnadrochit to Aultnagoire<br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Today's walking was
straight-forward – after the blitz of winds that nature unleashed
on the surrounding glen and mountains, I emerged from my tent early
again. Packed up, not a peep from the other challengers, I was ready
to go. I bade my pitch farewell.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxmZ_hFsOaEA6_81pgK1cdnruYsmHhlGJzzAG2phk5Lg30GRJkbturlIECp6SBGq5wsB4mqkfFN2hVpUMS_PBsaxBIJs4FVxv6Bu_OGGENOK_IfJlG_dbVaiLdEaY63rj5Zb9t2lMc6I/s1600/2012-05-14_06-59-01_800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxmZ_hFsOaEA6_81pgK1cdnruYsmHhlGJzzAG2phk5Lg30GRJkbturlIECp6SBGq5wsB4mqkfFN2hVpUMS_PBsaxBIJs4FVxv6Bu_OGGENOK_IfJlG_dbVaiLdEaY63rj5Zb9t2lMc6I/s400/2012-05-14_06-59-01_800.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cannich to Drum' road</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Koos Schevellis had
recommended a route away from the road for me for at least part of
the day. The Glenurquhart Forest Trail is a quaint diversion from an
otherwise droll road walk. I was thankful that my alcohol intake had
allowed me to remember the in and out points for the trail.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I remember the sun
shining down, and forming a rainbow for me through the morning's
clouds. I began singing, really loud. I had cracked day 4 on my
first challenge. A day that I had dreaded not reaching. I feared
that the gremlins would have set in and done their best to convince
me to chuck in the towel – bad weather, blisters, injury, aches and
pains, negative notions. None of these things</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">materialised. In fact
I was in my element.
</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAB1M7HHRcJjfTGNuo57SApmUOLB-OLe6r2nfMUn9qxCjzlVNd6IGFJcwfKhYv43ciPcX1b90fMNBZIMH5ok0w8QMMbcd3_iELo6OstOUobH3yhsRGyY8Tuojafo-1pl8CApe7aQMnG_A/s1600/2012-05-14_07-25-18_836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAB1M7HHRcJjfTGNuo57SApmUOLB-OLe6r2nfMUn9qxCjzlVNd6IGFJcwfKhYv43ciPcX1b90fMNBZIMH5ok0w8QMMbcd3_iELo6OstOUobH3yhsRGyY8Tuojafo-1pl8CApe7aQMnG_A/s400/2012-05-14_07-25-18_836.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rainbow over the Enrick</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">First was a few verses
of Amazing Grace, at the top of my voice. Then my own words to the
same tune. John Denver made an appearance for a couple of songs too
– Sunshine on My Shoulders and (Caledonian) Rocky Mountain High
began spewing from my lungs. Tears popped into the back of my eyes
and made their way forth, trickling down my cheeks before dripping to
the ground. Tears of joy, elation.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFvD72oA9X0x6rOD77edfVS_E34N60aYljDwlv_iBZk1ZLVBMpFyxe6beoZNlRk-2FtYNR7p_NI_D6Z5lG7CyJRYBfnjlfneR817Dz6t2DDvjZBiAxdoG9FVVqHQd_kl0fN9NWNJuYEOI/s1600/2012-05-14_08-08-01_805.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFvD72oA9X0x6rOD77edfVS_E34N60aYljDwlv_iBZk1ZLVBMpFyxe6beoZNlRk-2FtYNR7p_NI_D6Z5lG7CyJRYBfnjlfneR817Dz6t2DDvjZBiAxdoG9FVVqHQd_kl0fN9NWNJuYEOI/s400/2012-05-14_08-08-01_805.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Always time for a brew...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I scoffed a lazy brunch of Family-size Mattesons' Smoked Sausage with Primula and Tortilas –
four I think. Loch Meikle was basking below and the sun was still shining through the intermittent
showers. The rain stayed off me for the most part of my stroll.
It really only set about soaking me about 20 minutes outside of
Drumnadrochit itself.</span><br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As I arrived in Drum',
I took shelter under some trees just outside of some houses just by
the Town sign. It poured, and poured. I waited no longer and
strolled quickly now, into the Town centre.
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When I got to the main street I was outwardly drenched, but my waterproofs had kept the worst of the water
on the right side of the fabric. I dropped my pack outside the
Fiddlers Café and went in for refreshment. Tea, for two with sugar
– lots of it... ...plus a bottle of lucozade, followed by another
pot of tea and then a fizzy lemon pop. I had already eaten, so
didn't get any more food. I shared a conversation with a local
artist – a southerner who was now domiciled in the Highlands, not
far from Drum'.
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We never exchanged
names but she questioned me about my travels so far and showed a
spectator's enthusiasm for the challenge. She left me then, to make
phone calls home, to Challenge Control, and to Gordon Menzies, the
skipper of the MV Morag mo Chridhe. I was due to cross on his boat
to Inverfairigaig later that day.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The weather had
improved for a while so I dove outside and took a stroll. I didn't
spot any other challengers as it was still early so I took up
residence on the floor outside the telephone box by the local store.
Off came my shoes and socks and I lent back on my rucksack in the
sunshine and closed my eyes.
</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoVA4K9kuzSuF_byuBna1AG_uIMvfuG-0xnXufmkkx1Jq4shuzwxAXBI4NCRfsytv2KdGaOUH9XFcuAa36km353zCtKxodHVA9Cw9rPrGH8TxJmAYIgQwS-gid5N20CgfCvD58b7QqGJQ/s1600/2012-05-14_13-53-13_37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoVA4K9kuzSuF_byuBna1AG_uIMvfuG-0xnXufmkkx1Jq4shuzwxAXBI4NCRfsytv2KdGaOUH9XFcuAa36km353zCtKxodHVA9Cw9rPrGH8TxJmAYIgQwS-gid5N20CgfCvD58b7QqGJQ/s400/2012-05-14_13-53-13_37.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drum, and the phone box</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Davids - Pickles and
Wishart arrived and stirred me to my feet. I welcomed them and we
chatted for a while spotting new challengers arriving as we chatted.
A former challenger arrived and quizzed us on current challengers,
scouring Dave Wishart's list for recognisable names.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Too many challengers to
remember showed up, including my new pal Tony Bennett who I later
learned would pull out from his challenge at Drumnadrochit. It would
be a shame not to bump into him again. I had been told that Mick &
Gayle <a href="http://gayleybird.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">(read their blog here)</a> had asked after me so I hoped to see
them before crossing the loch. Dave, Dave and I set off for one last
cuppa and lo, there they were. Mick and Gayle, the intrepid and
perpetually walking couple were sat refuelling in one of the
tea-rooms. I have to admit to being a little starstruck. This odd
feeling quickly subsided as we chatted and became friends. I think
it was here that I caught up with Louise Evans again, this time with
John Jocys but I can't remember exactly.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After more convivial
exchanges and a resupply at the local store Dave, Dave and I hopped
onto Morag (and motored out across the most famous Loch in the world
– Loch Ness. As we left the western shore, I saw a landmark leave
me behind. Day 4 and Drumnadrochit – done.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I was sat at the back of the boat, and promptly the other challengers started looking back at me. No, they were looking past me. I pivoted and looked behind just as 3 mallards came in to land – on Morag herself!</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Shap McDonnell took a shine to the drake so I took a quick snap for his album. You'll agree it is a quacker.</span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWBPTHFc1rZ8UUEdxy3uIP43ehymcGT3iLUdSzF8sOhSWcT9pA9e44ve9Pe5WYi81z9GtLDc0K7OjrbgjKKjT2YVNAXrR0CAsxstmFqcRyRZ67orG1NArM1Qsq2CESog4jlHtdZZvx2f4/s1600/2012-05-14_15-41-51_625.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWBPTHFc1rZ8UUEdxy3uIP43ehymcGT3iLUdSzF8sOhSWcT9pA9e44ve9Pe5WYi81z9GtLDc0K7OjrbgjKKjT2YVNAXrR0CAsxstmFqcRyRZ67orG1NArM1Qsq2CESog4jlHtdZZvx2f4/s400/2012-05-14_15-41-51_625.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L to R - ANON, Mick, Andy(?), Piedro, Biaggio aboard MV Morag mo Chridhe</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwv61xbN7ipenicvMknJmDt0b9FOGTyFgG1wCRZfL6pglSNHmnVSBJtE-jFO7yaZ7UYkc6DoPLpfqmtr-pY3J0zbdI_MMiY-avge6WJ7-TbZ14VwqovKkDQE99gAW6sLxVlACZA4jqDRg/s1600/2012-05-14_15-41-57_50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwv61xbN7ipenicvMknJmDt0b9FOGTyFgG1wCRZfL6pglSNHmnVSBJtE-jFO7yaZ7UYkc6DoPLpfqmtr-pY3J0zbdI_MMiY-avge6WJ7-TbZ14VwqovKkDQE99gAW6sLxVlACZA4jqDRg/s400/2012-05-14_15-41-57_50.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L to R - David (Wishart), Alan (?), Keith, Mick, Gayle, Gordon also aboard.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1k2YAQL4KIEVgWIG3aWXGoQZaq5oajA_s2DJCZQD74iJ5jIPb0A5zscQ76uwrk6LOK24V2Y0CL2T5SYnSqncmOVqTrGhIQl7JdmfIt4B00fHFfO1Sl0e4ljVPJR51s9F0rjaqM7X0aoc/s1600/2012-05-14_15-42-01_221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1k2YAQL4KIEVgWIG3aWXGoQZaq5oajA_s2DJCZQD74iJ5jIPb0A5zscQ76uwrk6LOK24V2Y0CL2T5SYnSqncmOVqTrGhIQl7JdmfIt4B00fHFfO1Sl0e4ljVPJR51s9F0rjaqM7X0aoc/s400/2012-05-14_15-42-01_221.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shap McDonnell & David W</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO5KJxCwG5PSS4GZGrTDkVTsxCbf4abbuT3MxPOaP-9yk7dWwmHwnGFbwHKQNFAOmfXMgqzu3dzfgSo3QjjLRoiUFdPc1QcaXrGGohFyybJAsUiZ1bxTnoYf35I1jRZgxdOf93MCd7oEU/s1600/2012-05-14_15-42-08_797.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO5KJxCwG5PSS4GZGrTDkVTsxCbf4abbuT3MxPOaP-9yk7dWwmHwnGFbwHKQNFAOmfXMgqzu3dzfgSo3QjjLRoiUFdPc1QcaXrGGohFyybJAsUiZ1bxTnoYf35I1jRZgxdOf93MCd7oEU/s400/2012-05-14_15-42-08_797.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">David Pickles</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipBRZwcgi3wX9nlF36vBOiDHiOi96ESvR93ZjiD0rJfT0c2mGsEmStf1GWG0OCEd34s64VEJoQiSlqpfyx2vZzzLNZOLtOmS_sY8jhHDVVwinHv25pPE2zQ3U0aHt8CyOyapPdBMiy_aw/s1600/2012-05-14_15-43-32_174.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipBRZwcgi3wX9nlF36vBOiDHiOi96ESvR93ZjiD0rJfT0c2mGsEmStf1GWG0OCEd34s64VEJoQiSlqpfyx2vZzzLNZOLtOmS_sY8jhHDVVwinHv25pPE2zQ3U0aHt8CyOyapPdBMiy_aw/s400/2012-05-14_15-43-32_174.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L to R - Jemima, Daffy, Shap. Look at that smile - lovely man, that Daffy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuiRxMx9eCAiq51A9_SM98HhMzMcI-dv_n00sUP_CYIJzPO8PKv6FKRO2vLv9z_BmcOrr5HpFpbWn9UHE1mtqLLl7sH8YAURjIU7S_mKscethXIIfY3SG5nCRaP1saJ9XuP7yOSpOHmg4/s1600/2012-05-14_15-47-47_901.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuiRxMx9eCAiq51A9_SM98HhMzMcI-dv_n00sUP_CYIJzPO8PKv6FKRO2vLv9z_BmcOrr5HpFpbWn9UHE1mtqLLl7sH8YAURjIU7S_mKscethXIIfY3SG5nCRaP1saJ9XuP7yOSpOHmg4/s400/2012-05-14_15-47-47_901.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Urquhart Castle - centre frame</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU9UeCYebLZ9S4yDJX8ySIS_fJA1Td1wma6jXTbnokhyphenhyphenrmOogBGsLQqRMt2bkk60GgLAfn3-xodCfWiv4eZMD1nd4eaoAzd_LLW8sbXSa1pgu0gJZDPxx33DJKQG7XLc7ihluIsSLxuKY/s1600/2012-05-14_15-48-22_494.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU9UeCYebLZ9S4yDJX8ySIS_fJA1Td1wma6jXTbnokhyphenhyphenrmOogBGsLQqRMt2bkk60GgLAfn3-xodCfWiv4eZMD1nd4eaoAzd_LLW8sbXSa1pgu0gJZDPxx33DJKQG7XLc7ihluIsSLxuKY/s400/2012-05-14_15-48-22_494.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jemima and Daffy, again.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEickZTRfojV4VxZ_fK5KNKRgjs1sY70UWndC-O8WBa2MWA6cS2uWTBx29f9mdI-STBLeIaDANNafJQPKZI6CnkAZnvyJf0URCTfUpvOYJGgudGdfCoVQ_hUq6GP0NBLhA4zNWn8m2aYvmA/s1600/2012-05-14_15-49-44_438.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEickZTRfojV4VxZ_fK5KNKRgjs1sY70UWndC-O8WBa2MWA6cS2uWTBx29f9mdI-STBLeIaDANNafJQPKZI6CnkAZnvyJf0URCTfUpvOYJGgudGdfCoVQ_hUq6GP0NBLhA4zNWn8m2aYvmA/s400/2012-05-14_15-49-44_438.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drumnadrochit away from sight now, a milestone passed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The bouldered, rocky
pier at Inverfairigaig welcomed us to Loch Ness's eastern shore and
the steep and unrelenting road walk up to Aultnagoire lay before us.
Some would walk on, past the croft. I would not. I had booked to
camp in the grounds and take a dinner and breakfast with the
Sutherlands. As I was soon to discover, I wasn't to be alone. It
was here I met more folk who would become friends. It was here that
I met with wonderful hospitality. Tea and Cake in seemingly
unlimited supply was thrust upon us as we passed through the door.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_AE24HWu7ENT1BNwSeedifmGmd8qxuoMDG_j-LdaN_ttEy2TYb53cxxj_1DsKUKcPum-nstUUC7LtsodRKhmLhyphenhyphen73VynpTKUN1QC-bKqV94ZvxrqZFjWqpoycwP-NNQswFyqlg24r4NU/s1600/2012-05-14_16-39-44_593.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_AE24HWu7ENT1BNwSeedifmGmd8qxuoMDG_j-LdaN_ttEy2TYb53cxxj_1DsKUKcPum-nstUUC7LtsodRKhmLhyphenhyphen73VynpTKUN1QC-bKqV94ZvxrqZFjWqpoycwP-NNQswFyqlg24r4NU/s400/2012-05-14_16-39-44_593.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mick, Alan, David P, Andy - Mick, Gayle, Shap, Byron behind - I think</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The trickle of
challengers became a stream once Morag had returned. Those whom I can remember are:</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<ul>
<li><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Sandy and Carol –
a lovelier couple it would be difficult to meet</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Bryan Waddington –
a fellow first-timer</span></li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">John Jocys – a
challenge regular (later to provide much entertainment)</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Louise Evans – a
challenge trembler (and a lovely, lovely individual)</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Mike, Alan &
Andy – a band of three very likeable Scots</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Denis Pidgeon –
another challenge regular, with tennents in hand</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Shap McDonnell –
a hiking man with the best smile I have seen</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">David Pickles –
diamond bobby off Dartmoor</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">David Wishart –
chatty, friendly and funny comrade from the North-east (of England)</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Byron (insert
surname here)</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Keith (insert
surname here)</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Andy Howell – I
didn't get the change to speak to Andy here, but later I would</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Biaggio Pellegrini
and his pal Piedro</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Koos Schellevis - all friendly in that very Dutch kind of way</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Mick and Gayle –
expert producers of fine, dehydrated fayre and purveyors of great walking wisdom</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">FINALLY - The
Sutherlands – our hosts</span></div>
<ul>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Mrs Janet</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Mr Alex</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Miss X (I'm a
little ashamed to have forgotten the Sutherlands' daughter's name –
she was lovely).</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
</li>
</ul>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There were more, I know
it. I just cannot remember everyone.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We ate our fill, and
although the conversation wasn't lively it was interesting and
friendly. More and more food was offered and we even managed to
squirrel some over to Bryan. He was so well behaved sat in the
corner of the dining room. He deserved something!</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My notes of this
evening are so scant I am a bit annoyed – my memories are faded
too. I know I had a nice evening. I chatted, but exactly to whom,
and precisely about what I can't recall. The midges arrived, not in
great number, but they arrived. I retired to my tent dreaming of
breakfast and the Monadhliath.</span></div>Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-4451679758786267032012-06-18T22:27:00.000+01:002012-06-18T22:27:10.803+01:00TGO Challenge 2012 - Culligran to Cannich<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So, where was I? That's right. I was in a wonderful deep slumber at just before midnight after a great day's glen walking through Strathfarrar. The <strike>bastard tick-hosts</strike> lovely sheep were quietly baa-ing in the glen - I presume this, because I was in a wonderful deep slumber. Then I am gently woken by THE VIOLENT SHAKING OF MY TENT.</span><div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Torchlights beaming through the fabric from two directions and people seeming desperate to get into my tent. I was petrified. "POLICE, DON'T PANIC!!" It was a bit bloody late for that.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I was unbespectacled (that's my word and I am sticking to it) at the time, so furiously struggling and stammering I fought blind in my tent looking for my glasses. In any normal situation my heart would not be leaping out of my chest, and I would simply roll to one side, pick up my specs and slip them on my face. I managed to restore my vision, and now had to open three zips, with adrenaline corrupting my every movement, it took a while. Throughout my battle with YKK (not KY, I promise) the <strike>invaders</strike> keepers of the peace continued to reassure me not to panic, and began explaining their mission. I calmed slightly, and the zips began to cooperate. Onesuch = open. "Forgive me, but I am a bit startled" I offered. Twosuch = Open. "Where's the door?" Says PC No.1. "It's here" I replied, helpfully. Threesuch = open.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I was then confronted by PC No. 1 & PC No. 2. Both of whom began to tell me their mission - it was a quiet day in Highland policing - simultaneously. "We're looking for a missing person. A woman, aged 53, from Inverie. She's doing a challenge." They stopped their mission statement, allowing a reply "What? The TGO Challenge?" My turn for questions. "Yes" they became excited. "Where did she start? "What's her name?" I continued the interrogation. "Strathcarron, we don't know her name" PC No.1 responds to my techniques. "We've got problems with the radio, we haven't got all of the information. She was supposed to arrive at the Struy Inn before nightfall, but hasn't made it". He's spilling the beans now, I've got him where I want him.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"OK, she started at Strathcarron, is a lady, aged 53 from Inverie. I started there too. There's only one lady starting solo that fits the bill, and I think I know who it is you are looking for. I can't be 100% sure about it but I definitely haven't seen her." I put the evidence together, and have a hunch. "She's come the same way as me, more or less". My guess is that she started late, or became waylaid. She's done the challenge before, so running late is not really a cause for concern. "I'm sure she is OK - other challengers will have been with her at times today and she must have camped up the glen. We all have camping kit." I had this case nailed.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">PC's No.1 & No.2 begin to agree and by now are sure that a drive up the Glen will find her safe and well, having a brew or snoozing. I guessed too, that Challenge Control would not have alerted the authorities just yet. "I hope whoever called you guys isn't too worried, she'll be right as rain". The rozzers beat a retreat to their car, waving their searchlights about before hopping into their get-away vehicle and driving up the glen.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">They passed by again, down the glen a couple of hours later, still casting their lights about. I know this because I slept very lightly thereafter, I am still not sure why.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When I had finally, properly woken at 4am, I lazily began packing my gear after emptying my bowels in Mr Ostentatious's lovely glen. I was on the road to Cannich, via Struy by 6am. The bad weather that had been forecast (torrential rain, gusts to 115mph etc) had convinced me to alter my plans to camp up on Eskdale Moor in favour of a camping spot at Cannich. It was "Stormy Sunday" or whatever the rest of the TGOC community chose to call it. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For me, a lazy, dryish still walk along the road to Cannich was interrupted only once. At Struy, not far from the Inn, I watched as a couple got into their 4x4 in the distance. They came up the road towards me. Two yellow kayaks were packed neatly on the roof bars. As it drew nearer, the vehicle slowed. I readied myself with a smile. I am nice like that. Before the vehicle came to a halt, the passenger window was dropped, and out popped a head "Carl?". HUH? What? I'm in the middle of a tiny little village, nay hamlet in the Highlands, to whence I ne'er have been before. I strange vehicle pulls up and the passenger knows my name. "Was it you that the police woke up at midnight last night?" The missing walker, who shall remain nameless in my posts, was no longer missing. "Yes" I smiled wider. "I am so sorry, they were looking for me" said the runaway. "No problem, I am glad you are safe. Were you on the drag?" "Yes" was the reply.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"Thought so. As long as you are OK". The challenger passed on some info of the route she had ahead of her before closing the window. The 4x4 pulled away. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRkpOY4sqNV74kcLd0VgprEL_2RynKaBIQcMX__Xp9BWzN68aJk8gWr0E71dJVAgL-t-hir8T1fYG9KH1pgRWMDcbNs97u0cNMGVw31uE31-caIOVv-BEU6AJkl9DnssBaGd-8CYR-nyk/s1600/2012-05-13_08-39-41_602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRkpOY4sqNV74kcLd0VgprEL_2RynKaBIQcMX__Xp9BWzN68aJk8gWr0E71dJVAgL-t-hir8T1fYG9KH1pgRWMDcbNs97u0cNMGVw31uE31-caIOVv-BEU6AJkl9DnssBaGd-8CYR-nyk/s400/2012-05-13_08-39-41_602.jpg" width="298" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The road from Struy to Cannich</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLfyL6hUfQMb1b4XkGukRaqIqHCDzdHkwd77Qvxq3P6jIeuRRi8UfEOioHivEhgmgKgyJPK7uEXMfzwVnpTP8RKQIKinSvh1XWDhpCLchFpv-DMw3q-u8NtRXoiYKG6ZZp5OUqC_yMjas/s1600/2012-05-13_08-39-15_673.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLfyL6hUfQMb1b4XkGukRaqIqHCDzdHkwd77Qvxq3P6jIeuRRi8UfEOioHivEhgmgKgyJPK7uEXMfzwVnpTP8RKQIKinSvh1XWDhpCLchFpv-DMw3q-u8NtRXoiYKG6ZZp5OUqC_yMjas/s400/2012-05-13_08-39-15_673.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A font/well (DRY) by the road from Struy to Cannich</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJg_B9yiNPeimkZ0cmDwj6_yUlDQJAgQQx9esunzXMGfeoCUfoxpzRTPp1PPQvcus1OcJX2yr4JpstvEeeds5bMjJPr8kdqpCTcvABXX3yIsnK-jjTUfbwAlxEIi8byuApWu5dGP_iD7I/s1600/2012-05-13_09-33-47_650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJg_B9yiNPeimkZ0cmDwj6_yUlDQJAgQQx9esunzXMGfeoCUfoxpzRTPp1PPQvcus1OcJX2yr4JpstvEeeds5bMjJPr8kdqpCTcvABXX3yIsnK-jjTUfbwAlxEIi8byuApWu5dGP_iD7I/s400/2012-05-13_09-33-47_650.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The sign, welcoming me to Cannich, on the road from Struy to Cannich.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I reached Cannich campsite to a very warm welcome from the owner, who's name I cannot remember, at around 10am. My walking was done for the day, and I was a little footsore from the road. I was urged to bring my pack inside the warm café and I plugged my phone in for a bit of a power boost. I ordered a pot of tea, and then another, followed by a large, big, huge breakfast. It was then that the rain began. 10:20h.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It continued to rain, and challengers continued to arrive in reasonable number. Dave Wishart, Dave Pickles, Shap McDonnell, Bryan Waddington, Koos (from Holland), Colin (?), Byron, I know there were more than this, but my memory and notes fail me here. I loitered and chatted to many folk, notably Bryan W - who I was not due to meet until possibly Tarfside for a beer - and was delighted to see him. He was too, and we shared a manly hug as though we'd been pals for years. In reality, we had never met before. Bryan is a top chap and you should all get over to <a href="http://www.secretmountain.co.uk/">www.secretmountain.co.uk</a> for his hikes and related natter, and I think <a href="http://www.bryanwaddington.co.uk/">www.bryanwaddington.co.uk</a> for his really nice images. He takes a good picture does our Bryan.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So, the day passed with much socialising and I took a stroll to the Slaters Arms for a beer on me tod. Dave Wishart joined me just as Man City won the league in a tense, last minute finish - I think (not really a footie follower, me). Challengers - Peter & Ursula - came into the pub (it was still tipping it down, by the way) and asked if we wanted to join them at their table when they ate. I was going to eat something soon, so I obliged, and Dave opted for the wander back to the campsite, via the other pub/hotel whose name escapes me.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A smashing couple are Peter and Ursula and I shared the tale of two coppers with them as we ate. Koos joined us too, having met P & U some challenges previously. Koos had a fine alternative to my road walk into Drumnadrochit, so I stored it in my beer soaked memory bank, hoping that I could retrieve the detail in the morning. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I looked outside, and at around 20:15h after more or less ten hours of constant heavy rain, the skies began to brighten. My coat and I had dried completely in the few hours I had spent at the pub. I left my company to their conversations and reminiscences and slipped outside for the stroll home to my tent. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">On the return, the huge puddles were being disturbed by a strengthening wind. I'd ensconced myself in my tent by 9pm and hoped my pitch in the trees didn't spell out the end for me. </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihofcu4Bz97wr70B7q2L_TqN1IP0c3spVetk8lRNPsgqPurKhM42epp33iupTzMkNfpsDWqvu00bjRhHGA3UBQG7fSu5pcMph3uepUpqG-MIg4UcRPmL_I9Rgu9rzZnj5YWYvd1So8r3M/s1600/2012-05-13_10-07-39_143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihofcu4Bz97wr70B7q2L_TqN1IP0c3spVetk8lRNPsgqPurKhM42epp33iupTzMkNfpsDWqvu00bjRhHGA3UBQG7fSu5pcMph3uepUpqG-MIg4UcRPmL_I9Rgu9rzZnj5YWYvd1So8r3M/s400/2012-05-13_10-07-39_143.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cosy in here.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqns8vYhkxpwNnvNID5PkwNVq9v8kmalQQJL5-Soi_k6YcRF4OdkgkJxHoIgYuiAB-E7ZzfKcox3SmJuMaoZiNjdNzOTsXZ_KPDq17O5KBpdhEHGckKWZt4lUoiBwvB31hfUaF5VHH8WM/s1600/2012-05-14_05-58-58_926.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqns8vYhkxpwNnvNID5PkwNVq9v8kmalQQJL5-Soi_k6YcRF4OdkgkJxHoIgYuiAB-E7ZzfKcox3SmJuMaoZiNjdNzOTsXZ_KPDq17O5KBpdhEHGckKWZt4lUoiBwvB31hfUaF5VHH8WM/s400/2012-05-14_05-58-58_926.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looks like a nice spot. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwsChzWfdK0fVYOONJtXcVKtuHswLDm7ThAKL2dvNqdeX4ugeXRa_xpfYYmkRRim87BtwxoLPSKHBrIcgvUJSe7N7V95W9hc8dk7DatwT3kDC5T1v2-CzaYQS4sfJTwnKjC9vUs6m7JyU/s1600/2012-05-14_06-00-02_704.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwsChzWfdK0fVYOONJtXcVKtuHswLDm7ThAKL2dvNqdeX4ugeXRa_xpfYYmkRRim87BtwxoLPSKHBrIcgvUJSe7N7V95W9hc8dk7DatwT3kDC5T1v2-CzaYQS4sfJTwnKjC9vUs6m7JyU/s400/2012-05-14_06-00-02_704.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One or two challengers arrived.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Being in bed by 9pm I knew I would be setting off early in the morning. I popped in my earplugs and wallowed smugly at my altered route. The storm-force winds continued to strengthen above the campsite, but the camping ground itself, remained well sheltered. I drifted off to sleep - on cloud 9.</span></div>Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-23491540872743404532012-06-06T22:10:00.002+01:002012-06-06T22:10:56.033+01:00TGO Challenge 2012 - Allt Riabhachain to Culligran<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Having woken to a fine(ish) day with sunshine and clouds, and having agreed with Tony that we would aim for a 0800h depart from our spot, I made the effort to get my gear packed up. I glanced over my shoulder every now and again to checking for the morning flight of those Eagles. I guess they were having a lay in.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Tony was on form and ready well before me, so I made apologetic comments for my tardiness and Tony began walking around to the bealach as per our new anti-snow route. Eddie and his son, Alistair were making their way up the Allt Riabhachain and had reached me by the time I was ready to get moving. We swapped route details for the day and we were all heading in the same direction so began tearing up the bogs enroute to the bealach. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Eddie is a MASSIVE fan of bog-trotting. Alistair is completely honest when describing the day's route to his dad. He never understates the terrain, nor distance, nor the amount of bog-trotting involved - never, ever! Eddie was very pleased his son had talked him into walking across Scotland.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">In spite of the bog-trotting, I found that the going was actually quite good. We each picked our way - via the line of least resistance - around to the bealach. We crossed footsteps with Tony again who pointed out that the Sun was smack, bang over our target. Alistair and Eddie sloped off for a breather in the sunshine, whilst Tony and I hunted out and located the track into Glen Strathfarrar. It was a good one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><i>For more info on Glen Strathfarrar, have a click <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glen_Strathfarrar" target="_blank">here</a>.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><i><br /></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Huge, ancient glacial scars laid out the history of the Glen, drumlins all about - natural spoil-heaps from another climate-change event in Earth's past. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Glen Strathfarrar is splendid. Spoiled a little by the power station and its associated water controls, but still adequately splendid. A good road underfoot, steep and most gorgeous (in the literal sense) in many places. Tiger Beetles scuttled. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">The loveliness of the day was becoming a little too much to bear, so w</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">e lingered at one of the many concrete structures and I popped off my shoes to dry my socks for a while. </span>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tony, in Glen Strathfarrar - glacial scars above and to the left of shot.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fantastic volcanic rocks high up the Glen</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lovely, lovely Glen Strathfarrar</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">The father and son (enter Cat Stevens earworm) team arrived and I broke out the chocolate for a bit of bring and share. I had plenty - 500g to be precise, fine Lindt and Sprungli tableted stuff - assorted flavours, of course.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Further down the Glen we would meet Eddie and Alistair again, by a closed bridge. Tony and I took a glance, and the sign more than hinted that crossing might be ill-advised. We chose to ford, and each picked a spot to wade. Knee-deep was as bad as it got, and quite powerful was the force of the Farrar at this point. Still, it was preferable to a 15 foot plunge through splintering timber. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sideburn. ;-)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Tony was heading into Cannich via the Allt Innis na Lárach - a Scottish Hill track which looked infinitely more attractive on the ground than on the map. It was barely lunchtime and I was already at my intended stop for that evening. I felt fine, not at all tired, and hit the road again pausing often to suck up the views. I wondered if I would make a spot I had clocked on the map further down the Glen by Culligran wood. It would mean a bigger day than planned - but looked like it might be a great pitch. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifE4h46tAv7ezU07734GRhhiRnWfkw9tHg7St1jIsoUP61iQvsy3GpkvJk3PeYGBB203gzM0xxigWorHN88T1wW_B3J5zyB6hoeZyWS7lK6isZY-aLREeDax8Fy8kuabaXbVT4iOCVCYk/s1600/2012-05-13_06-06-16_562.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifE4h46tAv7ezU07734GRhhiRnWfkw9tHg7St1jIsoUP61iQvsy3GpkvJk3PeYGBB203gzM0xxigWorHN88T1wW_B3J5zyB6hoeZyWS7lK6isZY-aLREeDax8Fy8kuabaXbVT4iOCVCYk/s400/2012-05-13_06-06-16_562.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The spot I chose, and lived to regret, for so many reasons - and none to do with the grumpy looking weather.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">The bothy just up the Glen from my new overnight halt was locked and therefore ruled out. I found my spot: flat, clean(ish), dry, slightly exposed. No sheep, but there were signs of grazing. There was water close-by (in the form of the River Farrar) and a good supply of twigs and organic matter to burn in my little wood-stove. The weather was still fine. I pitched, and began collecting water & wood. I was within sight of the Glen track, but as this was no more than a well-metalled land rover track I had decided it was OK. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">I would find out about that soon enough.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Very soon, in fact.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">A Peugeot weekend-type vehicle came along the track, heading out of the Glen. I was walking toward it at the time. It stopped. The passenger window wound down. "Are you camping there?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Given that my tent was pitched, and I was walking away from it to get water and fuel, I resisted the urge to be sarcastic. I didn't fancy tarnishing the reputation of the Challenge on my second day. "Yes" I replied. Silence, and then "Are you moving on tomorrow?". "Yes" I added - I knew what was coming. "You see, there's no camping in the Glen". "Oh" I said, pitifully. "Where have you come from?". I explained my route, and the crossing I was making. "This is my land, you see?" said the man. "Best part of 20 miles by 5 miles of Glen and I can't use 6 bastard feet of it" was my desired response. What came out of my mouth was more like "I am quite happy to move on, if you prefer". </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">"Well you have chosen a very exposed spot, haven't you?". The driver then spoke "the forecast is terrible for this evening. Rain and winds". I had a good pitch, plenty of guying, and the Moment was tight as you like. "The tent will take it" I hoped. "Would you prefer it if I moved on, or maybe moved the tent into the trees?". Silence, again. "You won't have seen the signs if you've come in from Strathcarron". My turn for silence - what fucking signs? This was getting tiresome. One more chance, I thought. "I am more than happy to move on". I wasn't. The last thing I wanted though, was ill-feeling and grumpiness. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">"No, no" he paused thoughtfully "if you are happy, then I am happy". I smiled "Thank you" and promptly aborted my errand. I swore aloud - many, very nasty swear-words as the knobber laird buggered orf down the Glen. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Later I managed to get enough signal for the next few day's weather forecast, and it looked a bit iffy. 50-80mph windspeeds gusting above 100mph and a lot of rain. The Eskdale Triangle was out for tomorrow's camp - decided.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">A meal and a sip or two of malt followed by the systematic (and mildly panicked) removal of just under a dozen embedded ticks from my person - plus a couple of dozen more from my groundsheet and sleeping mat had me zipping in tightly for the night. Quickly I dropped off into a lovely, warm, deep and contented sleep. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">What happened next I was planning for, but it will have to wait for the next post.</span>Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-83171398220156118932012-05-29T21:42:00.001+01:002012-06-07T12:43:37.808+01:00TGO Challenge 2012 - Strathcarron to Allt Riabhachain<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So here it is, the culmination of nearly two years of hopeful impatience, planning, fretting, whittling and blogging. I finally, actually, really set off on my first coast to coast crossing of Scotland on the RAB TGO Challenge. This is my report....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Day 1 - Strathcarron Hotel to Allt Riabhachain (above Pait Lodge) 0900h start</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I had a worried, and nervously tense breakfast at the hotel. Despite the nice people I leapfrogged along the first ascents, I really wanted to start alone. With that in mind, I really ought not have picked Strathcarron as more than thirty challengers were due to set off from there and most of those were to do so on the Friday morning. I need not have worried as I pushed a little bit harder than I originally intended to get a bit of distance between me and the small groups before settling into my normal pace. I had forgotten to set a start beacon with Viewranger, and had lost signal by the time I remembered.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhante2B4JTU66X6MH_pq7Y5nWxYCbfRN5fqMFJhchwk2gyMNHp3NibHWlFhJJcCR9PT4cPkmvlv39zwpKPwML2mfVC5OFNQcavWORdsQyJ00cDn6INqUQk0ee445VXRJRIwNgQ5gpC3kE/s1600/2012-05-11_11-12-12_668.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhante2B4JTU66X6MH_pq7Y5nWxYCbfRN5fqMFJhchwk2gyMNHp3NibHWlFhJJcCR9PT4cPkmvlv39zwpKPwML2mfVC5OFNQcavWORdsQyJ00cDn6INqUQk0ee445VXRJRIwNgQ5gpC3kE/s400/2012-05-11_11-12-12_668.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Somewhere in the hills above Strathcarron</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I bounced along, a little uncertain of the exact placement on my thin blue line, but the compass had me going East South-east and there was a track, so I could care less. The larger terrain around me was exactly as the map in my mind recalled, and the wilderness began to suck me in. A Raven flew over head, kronking - a start claxon maybe?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The Lochs - nan Chreada and an Fheóir gave me a gigantic sense of presence in what seemed a tiny world of oceans, islands and peninsula. I could have spent hours up there, within just a square mile of landscape - one day I fancy doing just that. I peered down into the deep, water carved valley of Eas Ban as it swept up to meet me and this confirmed my position, and by just after 11am I had been visited by the first Cuckoo of the trip. In hot pursuit, a Meadow Pipit - intent on seeing off the parasitic monster bird following its unceremonious plopping of it's oversized egg in the little one's nest. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Bendronaig Lodge, or rather Lodges - a First-class (locked) shooting lodge plus its smaller, Steerage-class (unlocked) sibling - offered my first taste of shelter. The Steerage option was fine, if typically dirty. I positioned my (wet) self in the unusually bright 'kitchen' area where I made a snack and a couple of brews. I hadn't really noticed it was raining, but my drippyness brought me to my senses, as did the bedraggled appearance of my followers. A while had passed before I was joined by any of my co-starters. Maybe I was rushing things, but I was happy.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRuvaOpSjfg4EvvGuPWEjkgjciAavbhOYGI9w1-S_8ypv4GKqxYpQGPyEsrEBHw8DdUz4N8OkZexu8IirR0MW_BGlrLJdyOspxzBQ4Oh-U2-Pzql-nypzgu8shV1VqRkT4E9VpEAuLvEA/s1600/2012-05-11_12-59-05_110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRuvaOpSjfg4EvvGuPWEjkgjciAavbhOYGI9w1-S_8ypv4GKqxYpQGPyEsrEBHw8DdUz4N8OkZexu8IirR0MW_BGlrLJdyOspxzBQ4Oh-U2-Pzql-nypzgu8shV1VqRkT4E9VpEAuLvEA/s400/2012-05-11_12-59-05_110.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Bendronaig Lodge, above and left of centre</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Eddy, and his son, Alistair were the first to arrive and set up their fayre in one of the side rooms. Others came in, among them were Mike, Alan & Andy - three Scots, Colin - a solo Scot, David, Heather and Sue - a terrific Challenge trio who I had met the day before at Inverness. Tony Bennett got a brew going in the main room, nearest to me. Conversation was scant, and a little forced. David A took a few photos, as I recall.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The flushing bothy toilet proved too much of a pull for one of the trio so off she popped for a bucket of water before diving in, so to speak. We closed our ears and later she emerged smiling and giggling, but only after exit from the WC was permitted by the lifting of the loo seat. With the seat in the down position, exit was impossible.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Gradually and at a similar rate to their arrival, the comrades left the bothy and I too eschewed myself from the Lodge into the weather. Loch Calavie passed me by and many kinds of weather made busy as I trampled along the path by it's side - a diver was snorkelling in the shallows. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I lost the path-cum-land rover track somewhere above An Gead Loch on the way to Pait Lodge. The path appeared clear on mapping and aerial photograph alike. In reality it was not. In spite of this, the going was good but it was a lot slower. I felt a might self-conscious, as most of the folk behind were now above me. I assumed they were on the path and could clearly see my off-piste bog-trotting antics. Oh, well.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The visibility was excellent, and the weather improving, so navigation to my goal was not a problem. I set about my plan to find a spot to camp by the shores of Loch Monar, out of sight of the lodge itself and to it's North north-west. I felt a tad lonely, and pined for a little company. I headed directly to the lodge avoiding the barking canines and circumnavigated the lodge rather than heading through the grounds. Those of you that have been in the area will know the state of the ground to the immediate North of the lodge. It is rough, and at the end of the day, the myriad peat hags were a sting in the tail of what, for me, had been a long and really great day in the depths of the North-western Highlands.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdtL93vjsmfCqVoPZGFulZGZsUSpLsgFeuv8JyzCuJvpPq4ThGkG_RhHHafkDkBOkpcDH5qv8uRVFwn027A9kRiX4NONxp9-jCVheAwUAOtf-gzktfd2PSEuHjlOv-aHmj7-R1s_EhTLU/s1600/2012-05-11_16-23-04_570.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdtL93vjsmfCqVoPZGFulZGZsUSpLsgFeuv8JyzCuJvpPq4ThGkG_RhHHafkDkBOkpcDH5qv8uRVFwn027A9kRiX4NONxp9-jCVheAwUAOtf-gzktfd2PSEuHjlOv-aHmj7-R1s_EhTLU/s400/2012-05-11_16-23-04_570.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Rainbow, and improving weather over Loch Monar</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The sun broke through for the final throes of the day and I splodged myself down on a rock just above the lodge. Here I waited to be joined by another challenger, or group thereof. I was grateful when I saw Tony Bennett coming around the lodge looking dog-tired, just as I felt. We rested briefly here, and both agreed that a tramp up the Allt Riabhachain would be most wise in terms of finding a good spot to make camp. We were right. A fine, if slightly moist spot was located without too much fuss, and as we became established two Golden Eagles performed for us above Meallan Bhuidhe.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I took a few photos of my first camp of the challenge. I should probably point out that I used a mobile phone as my camera. I left the memory card for my compact camera at home in Suffolk, so the camera itself was dead weight for the next hundred miles until I lost it somewhere between Feshie and Braemar.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSezzhyphenhyphen_Fy-D-YE8uaYuwHFqx6_2ZZdVW_Jerc6U90GmoTte8yhgV5-ts7O11KHnQWrjpoOokrf9mc1Ve-HHMTg_tUdqYDh_LF4-SS6x8LYNMO2tWrMb9QM7yDAZQUgsjVV2E7wm5BdVU/s1600/2012-05-11_18-32-01_685.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSezzhyphenhyphen_Fy-D-YE8uaYuwHFqx6_2ZZdVW_Jerc6U90GmoTte8yhgV5-ts7O11KHnQWrjpoOokrf9mc1Ve-HHMTg_tUdqYDh_LF4-SS6x8LYNMO2tWrMb9QM7yDAZQUgsjVV2E7wm5BdVU/s400/2012-05-11_18-32-01_685.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">My house is to the left, and Tony's to the right</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgljGAER255ChOJWJb-WIATx0vqiTdIDylw4MEorLcocHJd__nd9tpKZnngoYk8eSPzgk60yKPcZQtCbXs3aWY9vF9U1qnTYDEDtTm_fcLs0AFGGb4CP1NonjOVKLkCie8kzUC9e1E64k/s1600/2012-05-11_18-53-37_306.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgljGAER255ChOJWJb-WIATx0vqiTdIDylw4MEorLcocHJd__nd9tpKZnngoYk8eSPzgk60yKPcZQtCbXs3aWY9vF9U1qnTYDEDtTm_fcLs0AFGGb4CP1NonjOVKLkCie8kzUC9e1E64k/s400/2012-05-11_18-53-37_306.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3JnHDkrBLxCQk2t1Dxy8aZVrnSl3xPl4eMElLzhnzsQ0AtYuP2yw2r5nVTFSvRBXx16C1LmkJWlHFfgIAgZSj2lzWio5i5HyKnFMPVyaENMa4Ete4MAoUCtnUsCMXfbv8qrKByrcbGj0/s1600/2012-05-11_18-53-52_121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3JnHDkrBLxCQk2t1Dxy8aZVrnSl3xPl4eMElLzhnzsQ0AtYuP2yw2r5nVTFSvRBXx16C1LmkJWlHFfgIAgZSj2lzWio5i5HyKnFMPVyaENMa4Ete4MAoUCtnUsCMXfbv8qrKByrcbGj0/s400/2012-05-11_18-53-52_121.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Meallan Buidhe - snowcapped, behind our camp</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2pvqgX98uIe6aOfkjc2xoN6XQ8B15Wk_MpVO-4LBh2oKhmEUMptdtcFjxFk-MvffTFTsmGL2yyQUdGGqU5HflWRiw2INbb1Gb5vO83W2mod_Mi4E7-MA-AFEymzn6JOuKsA4ad7hzTMA/s1600/2012-05-11_18-54-12_272.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2pvqgX98uIe6aOfkjc2xoN6XQ8B15Wk_MpVO-4LBh2oKhmEUMptdtcFjxFk-MvffTFTsmGL2yyQUdGGqU5HflWRiw2INbb1Gb5vO83W2mod_Mi4E7-MA-AFEymzn6JOuKsA4ad7hzTMA/s400/2012-05-11_18-54-12_272.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The Allt Riabhachain</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Tony and I discussed our route for the next day, and I decided to adjust my intended route (over Meallan Buidhe) to go around to the beallach between it, and Meallan Odhar. I was glad to have Tony nearby for my first TGO camp. I was a touch homesick, and his company was most welcome.</span>Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-60560663623175659642012-05-05T12:43:00.000+01:002012-05-08T21:48:58.833+01:00Carl's "Live" RAB TGO Challenge 2012 Map<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Below is a link to a live map which I hope will be dynamically following my progress as I walk across Scotland over the next couple of weeks. Please don't go calling mountain rescue if the little line doesn't move very far. It doesn't mean I have come a cropper, it just means I have not been able to get signal, couldn't get a beacon out, have no battery, or couldn't be arsed to drop a beacon anyway.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I hope the wiggly line keeps you amused, and if you see it wobble after Braemar as Phil says in the comments below, raise a glass with me, I'll be on my second!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Cheers!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><iframe height="500" src="http://www.shareyouradventure.com/map/perma/5485/iframe" width="500"></iframe></span>Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-59286875332258617662012-05-04T22:37:00.001+01:002012-05-04T22:37:35.692+01:00The Stuff of 177 Miles<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I know there have been many posts about challenge kit, and several probably for this year. I may not be adding anything new, anything interesting, but I wanted to illustrate here how my kit choice has changed since my first post about my kit<a href="http://locomountaineer.blogspot.co.uk/2011/12/kitlist-v11.html" target="_blank"> here</a>. I haven't put weights in because I am bored with weights and measures. This is the stuff I have decided I will need.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><u>This is Kitlist v2.0</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPapwrSWIWzNU9sFLYQzKbDkzpwSvwAcWPDuTYaDWeQ92OodZp-Utlvs9W1jTf8NUQ7dBcpV34YSRGjZ4dZogAAgOu3vv_JGV4ISc-o42BmKYNYaw9tmkK6JK5sW8fp0rFlSRye0ugTvg/s1600/SNB10377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPapwrSWIWzNU9sFLYQzKbDkzpwSvwAcWPDuTYaDWeQ92OodZp-Utlvs9W1jTf8NUQ7dBcpV34YSRGjZ4dZogAAgOu3vv_JGV4ISc-o42BmKYNYaw9tmkK6JK5sW8fp0rFlSRye0ugTvg/s400/SNB10377.JPG" width="360" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So a list it is - I'll go roughly left to right as though following text in a book:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">One pair of trekmates liner gloves (silk) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">One pair of karrimor outer gloves (synthetic)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">One midgie headnet</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Two standard buffs</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Drybag with loo kit</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Bag of tablets (various)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">First Aid Kit</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Spoon (long handled)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Stove/Pot combined</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">2 x 100g gas canisters</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Brew kit</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Silicon collapsible cup</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Waterproof Overtrousers</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Down Jacket</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Little stow-away sil-nylon bag</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Maps (all of them - the whole way across)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Contact lens kit (including mirror)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Tub of smash</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Bag of muesli</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Small folding knife</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Small headtorch</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Small tentpeg (should be in the tent bag)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Compass & spare (not in case it breaks, in case I lose it!)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Simple GPS Unit</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Hygiene kit</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> - Small bar of soap</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> - Tea Tree Oil</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> - Small anti-perspirant (I know everyone will smell at the end, but I will smell slightly different)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> - Midge repellent</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> - Sunscreen</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> - Toothpaste & toothbrush</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Gadget charger</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Nokia mobile (with a seemingly endless battery life)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">1 x Nokia battery (lord knows why, the original will never run out)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Food (4 days worth)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Bubblewrap toner bags (one for a meal cosy, the other for my kindle)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Tiny backup stove - for woodburning</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Tent</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Sit-mat</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Toilet trowel</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Wiping sponge (condensation control and spillages)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Stuff sacks (for segregating kit - like you need to have that explained)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Notepad & pen</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Sleeping quilt</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Sleeping pad</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Water bottles</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Whisky bottle</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">One Balaclava</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Two pairs pants</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Two pairs of thin day socks</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">One pair warm night socks</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Pair of windproof bottoms - lightweight</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">e-Reader</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Two baselayer-tees</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">One windproof jacket - lightweight</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Trekking poles</span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><u>Not in the photo</u></span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Waterproof jacket (old XCR one)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">TGO Fleece (hasn't arrived yet)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Camera (I was using it)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Smartphone (it was charging - like they all probably are, most of the time)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Smartphone batteries (x3)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Rucksack - 44l</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Chest pack - 4l</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So that's it. Everything I need - apart from what I will be wearing which will be a pair of trousers, underpants, socks, tee-shirt - and probably all the warm and wet weather gear from the above!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Go on, slate me for taking too much, and leaving stuff out - whatever, but most of all....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">....PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME CHANGE MY MIND!!!!!!!!!</span>Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-77276524491425844322012-04-23T23:17:00.000+01:002012-04-23T23:17:02.313+01:00Finally!! Wanders from Wonderland.<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After a few miles of forest walking we arrived at Wonderland. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">'Penguin' Pete Fretwell and I had set off after work on Maundy Thursday for a 2-nighter. The forecast was good for a day or so, and we quickly pitched our tents and explored one of the most fantastic parts of East Anglia that I know. It was great to have a really good look around this 'Brecky' place without the usual constraints of having to be back at the car to drive home. We spotted several deer, three species in fact. An distant Harrier, MArsh or Hen, I couldn't be sure - not a clear enough view. Stone-Curlews were about, plus the odd Curlew.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We returned to our shelters as the light faded, dined and shared whisky. Venus was high in the sky, as was Mars - unfortunately both were dimmed somewhat by the incredibly bright, and almost full, Moon.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I tried for one of those arty wildcamp shots again, and almost got it.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgma_N_D-ngRwcE_buy8EOWY6JFnH-E4L9RbYJVboxomVaid9xEx6iPdHimH7kXZ93Fz5n5fGfbszXtwf1tbVpyT6jhL4DJg3GfLizmadefH3QrRJdyWNdcN1Ke1LJGyMIutHzEXu0D9tU/s1600/SNB10309.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgma_N_D-ngRwcE_buy8EOWY6JFnH-E4L9RbYJVboxomVaid9xEx6iPdHimH7kXZ93Fz5n5fGfbszXtwf1tbVpyT6jhL4DJg3GfLizmadefH3QrRJdyWNdcN1Ke1LJGyMIutHzEXu0D9tU/s400/SNB10309.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Me, trying to do a first-class blogger photo, and only making steerage.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That is Venus in the Western sky to my left.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It was due to be chilly, possibly even freezing so I took my down jacket and 3-season quilt with me. I was thankful I had. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Pete had elected to use a bivy bag which he had borrowed from a pal given the good forecast, I was in my single-hoop tent. We both lay half in and half out of our respective shelters gawping up at the sky. We spotted a good few satellites and Pete copped a glimpse of a meteor - lucky bugger.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This is Pete.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ofrz2b8-OXRyzWW4BQrbnM10iIsv9PSKXkDhE3fum-JUyiqizeKV5lDG7kNeXugj2G_XJKSdyE3pZ0LzObqqYb9wfTkBUPVGKnbAbK9Ax3EgiA_k2u_SwTaccZHjbUkqkR27B2JwIgs/s1600/SNB10308.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ofrz2b8-OXRyzWW4BQrbnM10iIsv9PSKXkDhE3fum-JUyiqizeKV5lDG7kNeXugj2G_XJKSdyE3pZ0LzObqqYb9wfTkBUPVGKnbAbK9Ax3EgiA_k2u_SwTaccZHjbUkqkR27B2JwIgs/s400/SNB10308.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Pete: His bivy is in this shot too.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Pete drifted off to sleep and I began to get too cold outside my tent. I wriggled back inside and sent frost showering from the rolled-up door. It was well frozen. I checked my writswatch, which I had removed earlier. -4.0c I left it in the porch and popped off a couple of tweets lamenting my location. Envious replies rebounded from the twittersphere - I love that. I was getting my own back. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The whisky was getting the better of my eyelids. Just before I turned in, I checked the wristwatch, it flickered and died as I hit the 'light' button. Just as it faded, I read the temperature. At 2230h it was -5.0c. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I had a chilly night, the quilt barely kept me warm through the early hours before dawn. Sleep was shallow, but sufficient. As I woke, very cold. I waited for the light to build sufficiently for ablutions. It couldn't come quick enough so I put on the head torch and headed out. This errand for abdominal relief was too cold. I was chilled to the bone. Baring one's behind in Winter is not a task to be taken lightly - even in East Anglia.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I returned to my tent and took a slurp of water - a few drops left the bottle and hit my tongue. The bottle was solid. I checked my water bag - worse still. The whisky was still liquid, but I was thirsty so I brought my bottle in my bag with me and put the water bag inside my jacket.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I was cold so I went for a short run in the early light to get the blood flowing. It helped little, but did help. Pete stirred in his bivy, which was covered in ice. His pack was too, totally covered in a coating of frost. A few warm drinks and we were up and exploring. It would be an hour or so before the light was high enough to the thaw the shelters. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaJsZLhxll2it0vik4ThB4_vj6_M8HhnkQgLavB98GOnUE9LA4ysjuxr38S1s8uh0wfpBktgR4MnjImDUtFYNOoAkjNKdrNKSCYIIdF9l3CuoQ_XEw6w51qr1dpGrwiSaqpwLT87vArRc/s1600/SNB10320.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaJsZLhxll2it0vik4ThB4_vj6_M8HhnkQgLavB98GOnUE9LA4ysjuxr38S1s8uh0wfpBktgR4MnjImDUtFYNOoAkjNKdrNKSCYIIdF9l3CuoQ_XEw6w51qr1dpGrwiSaqpwLT87vArRc/s400/SNB10320.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb2oxzzKOWOrheBU9P0gBjKW5IXJzA_QvfzCan1ChtqJwDIVg2Jlgchnb9P6SB8sUsOWh3Rv0arqIEUu1A90JM6uDaGx2luOdrfaxh7_SU3NsLzC2w9ZRrt3TElT5N6aNfh3UvPGBsgq8/s1600/SNB10328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb2oxzzKOWOrheBU9P0gBjKW5IXJzA_QvfzCan1ChtqJwDIVg2Jlgchnb9P6SB8sUsOWh3Rv0arqIEUu1A90JM6uDaGx2luOdrfaxh7_SU3NsLzC2w9ZRrt3TElT5N6aNfh3UvPGBsgq8/s400/SNB10328.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrKNo1Lai4gS1F3HvV3zVtRSM0tKjQLtNMyD1YUTPzEN-L4q2WWZAaztJ27H_B2-B-zoivBXCV3vItrkxQCbZfj29rL7M5PcOqwJDLFdvGV6IGfqCw3mowyZ-6AH_cq8pBkrhfgHEeVRs/s1600/SNB10336.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrKNo1Lai4gS1F3HvV3zVtRSM0tKjQLtNMyD1YUTPzEN-L4q2WWZAaztJ27H_B2-B-zoivBXCV3vItrkxQCbZfj29rL7M5PcOqwJDLFdvGV6IGfqCw3mowyZ-6AH_cq8pBkrhfgHEeVRs/s400/SNB10336.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Pete: Visible this time</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Wonderland is a fabulous place to be at the most usual of times - but at first light with clear skies under a rime of frost it is truly splendid.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The rest of this part of the day is largely explained with the photographs. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguvrBa9S59vlcjVbG6RfAY5oTHM9fGExq7waSWfKdRqptKJcBbT2tUNtl-NKkOVKezEunVOuLnADATU801_T_yDYFvr4z2fygJRCHWzkv-k_D9zNnX_U6GMKOGOHLuRcBsMYD7Q2tURqQ/s1600/SNB10338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguvrBa9S59vlcjVbG6RfAY5oTHM9fGExq7waSWfKdRqptKJcBbT2tUNtl-NKkOVKezEunVOuLnADATU801_T_yDYFvr4z2fygJRCHWzkv-k_D9zNnX_U6GMKOGOHLuRcBsMYD7Q2tURqQ/s400/SNB10338.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkmZ2h1G2pKzTwcyw74PIV_w1EcpslTMsgc-nZbvPFDZOk47Z8KDqlCBOdwKTDNKJ7NFzBUcv10GR-ijfPYayacpg_knudjLi49bxTBOUR46Rntj7UcgFX4D4C-T8t6o9AXFBe1Q_qAOQ/s1600/SNB10340.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkmZ2h1G2pKzTwcyw74PIV_w1EcpslTMsgc-nZbvPFDZOk47Z8KDqlCBOdwKTDNKJ7NFzBUcv10GR-ijfPYayacpg_knudjLi49bxTBOUR46Rntj7UcgFX4D4C-T8t6o9AXFBe1Q_qAOQ/s400/SNB10340.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwUOVduRx2lsgLBc_B3OQsucvTZBSPmz_UchQT2BUfPmxm4ZlzM1fCmFJICCqUVrVY9-ZC4nU9skrEXByaDGtzB0lWpmgRLVg3IPRkcGMYFAKELVNes8FzRbY87LIBOPhWfCTkUnduEo/s1600/SNB10341.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwUOVduRx2lsgLBc_B3OQsucvTZBSPmz_UchQT2BUfPmxm4ZlzM1fCmFJICCqUVrVY9-ZC4nU9skrEXByaDGtzB0lWpmgRLVg3IPRkcGMYFAKELVNes8FzRbY87LIBOPhWfCTkUnduEo/s400/SNB10341.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1TPuy3rnMLhY4AAQw1X21c3H__Hh4BggIDOOLBh8XQjNIc3WtXCZ4GlX-KxULApgKk9gENFI3gBfkIaTKU9ftqeY8XROB88gwQLYoV-n_o3n_J8VE_Rhc_6Jj1fCu9ID03GTKKDBhUKU/s1600/SNB10349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1TPuy3rnMLhY4AAQw1X21c3H__Hh4BggIDOOLBh8XQjNIc3WtXCZ4GlX-KxULApgKk9gENFI3gBfkIaTKU9ftqeY8XROB88gwQLYoV-n_o3n_J8VE_Rhc_6Jj1fCu9ID03GTKKDBhUKU/s400/SNB10349.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I saw this and thought "that's pretty special". It was both.</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuuhKTuIov_b_vNKiAjAhEd-LhVNMlKwPyk8tW4l5H3aaWsA_T3-XONcaEcUMmws3Vu10ARkW8pJRfrKTrDgYUbcKP7srjcHz1qut6SucgpKCQbhzlXJFn2m3-GXVnrjwVm2sAec9nNTA/s1600/SNB10350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuuhKTuIov_b_vNKiAjAhEd-LhVNMlKwPyk8tW4l5H3aaWsA_T3-XONcaEcUMmws3Vu10ARkW8pJRfrKTrDgYUbcKP7srjcHz1qut6SucgpKCQbhzlXJFn2m3-GXVnrjwVm2sAec9nNTA/s400/SNB10350.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh97CapvmjdDbRO2qJmg1LV6X3efJIecpSJn9Sd45hc1wHe5-cKhaRpScuNv2VW2wO015dcu2roWOCEhf98qt3eMU7BBa896HdHXw681wygdq-d9PT45Dv21bDHfE-VNe2auPkszWLCBao/s1600/SNB10352.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh97CapvmjdDbRO2qJmg1LV6X3efJIecpSJn9Sd45hc1wHe5-cKhaRpScuNv2VW2wO015dcu2roWOCEhf98qt3eMU7BBa896HdHXw681wygdq-d9PT45Dv21bDHfE-VNe2auPkszWLCBao/s400/SNB10352.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Red Deer grazing.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkTxr-eBtynp35vgbq_3atMQC5IIWUtCaCyFeunksN9zjNGBNUH4sjppvAr3lm5mrHvnmarcBC6FFCrWa23R1iFMMLiiIOBj9p_ayxngMJOX4rUyDrdw-KSNFUYtqTy3V-dMH-pxLXrNU/s1600/SNB10356.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkTxr-eBtynp35vgbq_3atMQC5IIWUtCaCyFeunksN9zjNGBNUH4sjppvAr3lm5mrHvnmarcBC6FFCrWa23R1iFMMLiiIOBj9p_ayxngMJOX4rUyDrdw-KSNFUYtqTy3V-dMH-pxLXrNU/s400/SNB10356.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">No apologies for lack of sharpness - this image, I love.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgROoiNj6HoMelJ43HprHZs98HUzbp9iwPMa55o0ioJILvvPDxZd44n8YJIvtyPdDcrFH3uCAKFY88BuKWEC19_lrD-DET6q_zfpW1QT9nXWdeJ03_OzS69c_ObY_Ttu5RNC3N3_YTF6KA/s1600/SNB10359.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgROoiNj6HoMelJ43HprHZs98HUzbp9iwPMa55o0ioJILvvPDxZd44n8YJIvtyPdDcrFH3uCAKFY88BuKWEC19_lrD-DET6q_zfpW1QT9nXWdeJ03_OzS69c_ObY_Ttu5RNC3N3_YTF6KA/s400/SNB10359.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A small herd of Roe Deer, and my tent in the distance. It is there, honest.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After breaking camp, Pete and I emerged at the Elveden Monument and the busy A11. The tea-wagon's gravitational pull had its effect and I passed Pete one blackened, and frozen banana. It was fine inside, so I ate the other. Not wanting to sit with crowds, we crossed the road - eventually - and set off through a mix of Breckland and farmland towards Gazeley. We had made a note of all of the bird species we had encountered and were approaching 40 by now, some really special ones too. Still no Swallows.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We planned to stop at Icklingham for a pint and some grub at one of the two pubs. They were both closed. We had also planned to take our time through Cavenham Heath. But a phone call ahead to The Fountain at Tuddenham had us hot-footing it. We had 3 miles to walk inside of 45 minutes. Two birders stopped us to discuss their sightings, we tried not to be rude as we cut them short and upped tempo across the Heath into Tuddenham. A local appeared with his small boy "which way to the Fountain?" I asked. "Fountain? A pub?" he replied. "It's called the Fountain" I asked. "Yes. Is it a Pub you are talking about?" the gentleman urged me to answer. To me it was obvious, I was famished, and desperate for a pint. Yes, a bloody pub, I thought. My reply censored the expletive. I was tunnel visioned, and on a mission. He said there was no pub called the Fountain in Tuddenham. He - probably reluctantly - pointed us in the direction of a different pub and we left him. I can't even remember thanking the chap. I regret that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Pete and I reached the pub, The White Hart. It was open, and serving meals. We swapped elated faces - and shook hands - 2 minutes to final food orders!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ham egg and chips, a chilli-con-carne and a couple of pints of ale were consumed greedily. I checked with the staff to find out where the Fountain was. Tuddenham St Martin apparently, out Ipswich way. We were in Tuddenham St Mary, which was not out Ipswich way.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGVO6qPcQE_SSW8_Sg9SKEKwa06RpNg5liJCNPNjbEzVuaXFjMGmeOJyKxDlvQVqOwL2IYoyX83O76v0DfavEuNmPgXiRzMiNHErx0_-hZAnAG-GDZkft-9gI_DIyqzzWmBJoVTp1NaVc/s400/SNB10362.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="300" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pete: Approaching Elveden Monument</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGVO6qPcQE_SSW8_Sg9SKEKwa06RpNg5liJCNPNjbEzVuaXFjMGmeOJyKxDlvQVqOwL2IYoyX83O76v0DfavEuNmPgXiRzMiNHErx0_-hZAnAG-GDZkft-9gI_DIyqzzWmBJoVTp1NaVc/s1600/SNB10362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEielN4Gczz9jHzFFprvCHW7w-f8JyBLLIhZ18Q-iMGq5nOr6Q6CaNgAKYklC6IU7Gl-WCst59OpaImf8HnB364t-I9Q8wGJAWXb0OYm46kpwGf2Qj4mKqrTBJRLjwgfISZPJ54gXYLZZJM/s400/SNB10361.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me: Approaching Elveden Monument</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjWcRmezq6ln3tr2CJDvT2EsVAhLAIiy9lLeeGHbrLM32y-2UfaJp6M_WY5hpng7ZlhZdMJ8Av4rHMHi2Dan1mI-rwZmLJJIaVFSJWlKSJU4ImIAYWotL-X99k5tPG25kLh5-qmJ-LFS4/s400/SNB10363.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hebridean Sheep, by Icklingham</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Farmland and dwindling heath sucked us back out of the pub and we crossed under the A14 to make our way through Herringswell to Gazeley. The bird list had reached 48 by this time. Not a bad result for early in the migration season.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We sat a while at the Chequers, which was closed, awaiting Pete's wife - Ellie. She didn't take long to arrive and I waved Pete off knowing I only had a mile or so to my intended camp spot for the night. I tried to get water at the local churchyard - but only a waterbutt was available. I decided to approach a local couple just returning to their house after a stroll.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"Hi there, would you mind topping this bottle up with water for me?" The lady looked at me. There was hatred in her eyes. "You want me to fill <i>that </i>for you?". "Yes please, if you don't mind - that is."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The lady snatched the bottle from me, eyeballing me for the second time. I was confused. Normally this is a straighforward task. The gentleman turned his back on me and walked towards his house. I forced conversation. "I'm walking the Icknield Way for a while". "We've just done that." He replied, glancing over his shoulder. "What all of it?" I asked. "The Three Churches walk" he added. "Ah yes, I've done that. Lovely isn't it?". Nothing. Silence ruled for a while - where was my bottle? Then the chap quizzed me - are you camping? I thought quickly "No, I am being picked up somewhere around Dalham or Lidgate." I didn't want him to scupper my plans of camping on private land. My story wouldn't be too believable. There were only a couple of miles to go and I had just asked for a bottle which was only a third empty to be filled up. He didn't twig. "Have you come far?" "Where do you live?" "What's your name?" "Who is picking you up?". I was being interrogated. Suddenly the spotlight was switched off and the barrage of questions relented as the lady returned with my bottle. I thanked the couple and left them. "Looks like rain" he closed. Bastard!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As I left the village, I spotted a few home-printed signs. I drew closer and read one of them 'There have been 3 burglaries in the village within a week. Be on your guard.' or words to this effect. My irritation at the couple turned to regret. It all made sense. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I passed a few other evening walkers as I neared my pre-selected location. Each of them asked if I was camping and my lies continued. "No, just a few more miles and I am getting picked up". </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My camp spot - selected by OS mapping and Midsummer memories of The Three Churches walk - was less than useless. I was too early and none of the undergrowth had any leaves. I had hoped to duck into the thickness of the vegetation and disappear from passers by. I could see through the band of trees right to the other side and the fields beyond. This wouldn't go. I would be seen by all those folk to whom I had bullshitted a while earlier. They were sure to tip off a local and I'd be moved on. I decided to walk on to find a more secluded spot.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It started to rain - a divine and righteous act of punishment for my damnation of the cautious couple, I thought. Through Dalham, and out the other side hunting for a spot. Nothing. I was on the road so I picked a public footpath to take me away and through a spinney. Result - not perfect, but pretty good. Thick cover on three sides. No properties in view. As far as man-made items are concerned, only a distant transmission tower could be seen. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j61VCpeEvIE/T5XTNOW3tII/AAAAAAAAA38/YUma0u9eQsg/s1600/2012-04-06_19-17-35_33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j61VCpeEvIE/T5XTNOW3tII/AAAAAAAAA38/YUma0u9eQsg/s400/2012-04-06_19-17-35_33.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reasonable stealth-camping spot</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I was by a dried up river - The Kennett - devoid of water on account of the lack of rainfall in this, a drought year. I pitched and settled for the night. I had to wake early and get walking.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">5am on Easter Saturday I was awake and had eaten, abluted and broken camp by 6am (the same day ;-D). I was on a mission to get home, as early as possible, to see my family. I had decided that my route would follow a track past a transmitter to reduce the miles of busy A-road walking. I hoped I could get onto it as it was not a right of way.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It turned out to be accessible but clearly marked as private property, with "Trespassers will be Prosecuted"connotations. I thought "sod it" and walked around the huge metal fences and along the track to emerge in the little village of Hundon without incident.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As I approached the trig-point marked on the map I noticed something was up, or rather - not up. The trig was lying on it's side as if picked out from a distance by a long-range sniper. It was dead. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd2CwF4-tvd1gDeUPFcTJhDOASkRF04khi151wrB95z9cs-FukK-iIRNnq3VUOp1FGxsz7pTXF_j9vsCKblH_ktUciqQncCL_9mkj-BfTJ3pIVPJP3Vc4PWnKsxvh6U1UDO8x1ljUfqfE/s1600/SNB10368.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd2CwF4-tvd1gDeUPFcTJhDOASkRF04khi151wrB95z9cs-FukK-iIRNnq3VUOp1FGxsz7pTXF_j9vsCKblH_ktUciqQncCL_9mkj-BfTJ3pIVPJP3Vc4PWnKsxvh6U1UDO8x1ljUfqfE/s400/SNB10368.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Trig - taken out</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The second such a corpse as I had seen in as many months. See below for the other, which is just 2.27 'crow flight' miles away...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcm1Un5ZS6XNaR1679FgBupjHrklxyd-0h_8Iq1MvDnGwwjVHqB7gwV1gfcj5zeCwxVHNGdgm36X4yuW7VdAFWTUTCIaR_oGFiwo6zpMTfSv5zgFcGEDskhiX3p9iUqzaxkVrkXoZICf0/s1600/2012-03-18+08.09.29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcm1Un5ZS6XNaR1679FgBupjHrklxyd-0h_8Iq1MvDnGwwjVHqB7gwV1gfcj5zeCwxVHNGdgm36X4yuW7VdAFWTUTCIaR_oGFiwo6zpMTfSv5zgFcGEDskhiX3p9iUqzaxkVrkXoZICf0/s320/2012-03-18+08.09.29.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Another, earlier, trigonometrical fatality.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Pissed off, I harrumpfed away from the corpse of the pillar across a field of crops. Within moments I was thankfully distracted by the big ol' Suffolk sky.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-S24qAPvIBDe2jVXOWt_dT8y_t9BGzocWp9THiVv0z9b8f8SHs3e7y6l84LbhgbG79NwhQf6fCvcDkYcr5bL5dySOfhDlstrUBYKawAgGDkfZPwMIF2oUvdYSBY9vf48lR7PfAdeYxEc/s1600/SNB10370.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-S24qAPvIBDe2jVXOWt_dT8y_t9BGzocWp9THiVv0z9b8f8SHs3e7y6l84LbhgbG79NwhQf6fCvcDkYcr5bL5dySOfhDlstrUBYKawAgGDkfZPwMIF2oUvdYSBY9vf48lR7PfAdeYxEc/s320/SNB10370.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Suffolk sky</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> And then the lovely green lines of grain crop - Barley?</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1XbdP1qzxW1v84krICbf1osU4gEThb9laQvKUFCtzK05rFvwAkJ2c35uU0hHYeKJ37pZ4PdpXAly2H9zGADlZRD04VBkH05oVZh3S1uksm9F8IuQeuey8PFSP4dH2qobJ9o-NK_RlDkE/s1600/SNB10373.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1XbdP1qzxW1v84krICbf1osU4gEThb9laQvKUFCtzK05rFvwAkJ2c35uU0hHYeKJ37pZ4PdpXAly2H9zGADlZRD04VBkH05oVZh3S1uksm9F8IuQeuey8PFSP4dH2qobJ9o-NK_RlDkE/s320/SNB10373.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Suffolk crop</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And then a golden burst of sunshine through the grey. It lit up a crop of Rape quite nicely, I thought.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZZSpUft6P3zRYYrZQcXo1lpUhvAWhRJJJlkglMqUHqYCbkNO-H5FkHAr8LQIR48MgO9wZxoTz2qY6h5WRHPfV1gh-0hE-q_mKIKVlGsl4aODzgDvBGWeXs30cfaaINJ0UZKnqKllKGjA/s1600/SNB10374.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZZSpUft6P3zRYYrZQcXo1lpUhvAWhRJJJlkglMqUHqYCbkNO-H5FkHAr8LQIR48MgO9wZxoTz2qY6h5WRHPfV1gh-0hE-q_mKIKVlGsl4aODzgDvBGWeXs30cfaaINJ0UZKnqKllKGjA/s320/SNB10374.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Suffolk Rape (thankfully, this is not a headline)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My walk was drawing to a close. Within an hour or so I was turning my key in the door and clutching my kids in my arms. I had a hug with Mrs M, who screwed her face up anticipating the funky, post-walk sniffiness I might emit.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I had had a largely lovely walk, with good company for the first day. I had tested my kit, finding only that my pack was just a tad too small for all of my gear plus the extra bits I would carry on the challenge. So now a new pack is in my hallway which is much better and will be coming with me in May. Only the fourth pack I have tried since deciding to apply! Practice makes perfect.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Hope you enjoyed the read, it was good to write it up. A shame to finish really, but my back is aching from sitting in my armchair and using the netbook on a coffee table. Hope I can get up.</span>Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-72541923511467529352012-04-07T15:43:00.000+01:002012-04-07T15:43:57.000+01:00Coming up... ...Wanders from Wonderland<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My challenge preparations unfortunately lack much hill work which I am sure to pay for when it is crunch time. I am putting the distance work in though and my next post will be a full write up of my latest backpacking outing involving some East Anglian stealth camping. For now, here is a taster...</span><br />
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<br />Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-4479718992915061682012-03-21T23:38:00.005+00:002012-03-21T23:38:58.546+00:00News from my vetters - the route is on!<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Tonight I received my vetters' comments following my route submission. Thanks to my research and help, once again, from new found friends the route was completely acceptable to my vetters. I had made a few bloopers with grid refs, and on one day I had my direction as Southwest when I was actually heading Southeast but apart from that I am now officially good to go.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Here is an overview of my route from Strathcarron to St Cyrus.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-align: left;">Just want to say a special thanks to Alan Sloman and Dave Wood for the advice/assistance in tidying up my route. You just can't beat talking to folk who have walked the walk, can you?</span> <span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
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</div>Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-33201241877358039162012-03-06T13:01:00.000+00:002012-03-09T12:14:49.152+00:00Mother Nature gets the Bunting(s) out.<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I took a walk this weekend. Not, this time, with my good pal Den (aka The Dude), but with a new buddy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Some of you may know Dave Wood from either the challenge or his occasional musings on Twitter. You can read his blog here </span><a href="http://davewoodwalks.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">http://davewoodwalks.blogspot.com/</span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> .</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It's always a bit of a gamble walking with someone you don't know, but from various online conversations and exchanges Dave seemed like an ok guy with whom I could go for a hike. Dave is a backpacker and also a keen birder too. He has completed 5 TGO Challenges, one of which was last year, so he has had his fair share of nasty conditions with which to contend.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We'd arranged to meet at a service station on the A1 and we headed up to Lakeland together from there. Grange was our target and after a brief, and rainy pause in Keswick for some supplies and a breakfast, we reached Grange to a much drier sky. The air was breezy, and not too cold. The lower tops were clear of cloud, and the weather was forecast to be sunshine and showers, turning wintry later.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Dave looking back to King's How on Grange Fell</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">After leaving the car, and a very short road walk Dave and I primed our trekking poles and began the ascent onto Grange Fell. Dave set off at quite a pace, and I thought I'd got myself an incompatible walking buddy - the sort that can go as fast uphill as on the flat. Thankfully, we took in views often enough for my lungs to catch up until my body got back into the swing of things. The weather until now was quite reasonable, but the clouds began to form, coming in from Langstrath heavy with precipitation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">After leaving the top of the King's How summit of Grange Fell we headed onto Brund Fell, Grange Fell's main summit. I think it was then that the weather was transformed from breezy and actually quite nice, to absolutely blooming awful. Wind driven, tiny pieces of hail pelted our faces, stinging even through the hood of my jacket. Heads down we joined a group of walkers as they sheltered by a wall.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Up an over to Great Crag, the weather eased once more and we were able to enjoy the rugged, and varied terrain from which both Great Crag and Grange Fell are comprised. I thoroughly recommend taking a hike over these fells, and to maybe plan your route to halt up there for a night. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I won't mention the slow motion tumble that Dave took on the descent off the fell. Ooops, too late - it just slipped out. Sorry Dave! Actually it could have been a lot worse as the ground he fell on to was very steep indeed. He did well to stop himself tumbling much further and doing real damage.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Descending from Great Crag</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">The next four (ish) miles were lovely. The Lansgtrath Valley is a real Lakeland gem. It is the longest and remotest, uninhabited valley in the Lake District, and I would also contest that it is one of the finest. There huge numbers of wild camping opportunities in the valley itself, it is surrounded by lovely hills, and Langstrath Beck is perhaps one of the most inviting streams I have encountered when walking in England. Langstrath would be more appropriately placed in the Highlands.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dave by the convergence of Langstrath & Stonethwaite Becks</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Langstrath Beck tumbling into Stonethwaite</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Further up the Langstrath Valley</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The weather continued in its changeable ways and, having set off late we decided to cut out Allen Crags and go more or less straight to our intended pitch, right up the flanks of Glaramara. It would be tough, steep and pathless - good training for TGO. Navigation was less than precise, we just picked a ghyll to aim for and went for it. It was roughly right. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Steep and pathless it was - boggy it was too. It was one of those strength sapping climbs when energy levels are running low and the pack weight seems to increase with each step.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Perseverance always pays off and we reached a change of angle to some much flatter ground where we dumped our packs and cast about looking for suitable pitches. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6TYkJHsbTlqFu8hedHRyVB2XXu-daRFkqnEVYchVd2-PkisST7aKTUDxuLVGSyv7uZe3u74_RQ5-p_8rGGSw2NpgSzWWAbz9P2SH7uKpsc2t0utUHh64zZU4LoW4AZfbwNw7ZgpV8QU0/s1600/SNB10274.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6TYkJHsbTlqFu8hedHRyVB2XXu-daRFkqnEVYchVd2-PkisST7aKTUDxuLVGSyv7uZe3u74_RQ5-p_8rGGSw2NpgSzWWAbz9P2SH7uKpsc2t0utUHh64zZU4LoW4AZfbwNw7ZgpV8QU0/s400/SNB10274.JPG" uda="true" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A couple of suitable pitches</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Langdale Pikes are in the cloud at the back, there. Honest!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Naturally during the evening the malt was freed from it's container. Dave enjoyed his Talisker, I did not. My choice was the rest of the Balvenie Signature referred to previously on this blog. How comforting it was.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I left Dave to gorge himself on bread cakes and donuts and settled down for some sausage and cheese tortilla wraps, followed by a couple of chocolate bars for good measure.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I wobbled about in my tent, just a couple of measures short of a stupor before dropping off.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">In the early hours I woke, the tent had stopped rattling in the breeze and appeared to have sagged. I sat up and touched the fabric - SNOW! The tent was weighed down with snow. I shook it off and it slid down the fly and formed little snow banks around my shelter. Opening the door, I looked out to heavy snowfall - fabulous. It explained why my nose was so cold during the night!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Morning!"</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">As the daylight grew stronger, we began to surface going about our routines - cups of coffee for me, and a bit of chocolate. We had a chat and decided to head back down to Langstrath instead of going over Glaramara and Bessyboot - the elusive Bessyboot would escape me AGAIN.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">We took great care descending from our camp, which we worked out to be at just over 600m, down to the valley floor. There were a few slips and slides but we got down without event and relished the wander down the valley that lay ahead. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">It was on our descent that Mother Nature offered her treat. She always does when I am out on foot. This time, she sent a lovely male Snow Bunting, followed by three or four of his harem of ladies. They dashed up the hill towards the area of our pitch. It was a real treat for me, and a first for Dave - he was delighted!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Once again we strolled through the splendour of Langstrath and just before we emerged onto the path by Stonethwaite Beck a Red Squirrel scampered confidently on the boughs of an old deciduous tree. It sat for a while gnawing at a morsel, allowing Dave to get a few pictures. Mother Nature did it again!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Observing the unwritten challenge rules, according to Dave, we paused at the little tea room in Rosthwaite for a bacon butty and a PINT of tea. The staff there were splendid company and most hospitable, showing great interest in our day and where we were from. I thoroughly recommend you stop by next time you pass. You can find out more here...</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.borrowdaleherdwick.co.uk/tea_flock_in.htm"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">http://www.borrowdaleherdwick.co.uk/tea_flock_in.htm</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We followed the Derwent from here through to Grange, around the base of Castle Crag and savoured what was left of a fantastic, if short trip to the mountains. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">It was good to meet Dave, he really added to the weekend for me. The discussion varied from general life and ALWAYS came back to the Challenge. It was clear to me that it was something he loves doing. He is off for a long walk on Skye this year - check out his blog for more on that. Next year, its back to TGO again.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dave - bloody nice chap!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I may post some more photos when I can get some from Dave, unless he is planning to do a trip report too. In which case I will add a link. ***AND HERE IT IS*** <a href="http://davewoodwalks.blogspot.com/2012/03/mr-woods-bittern-and-other-short.html">http://davewoodwalks.blogspot.com/2012/03/mr-woods-bittern-and-other-short.html</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">So, go on. Get yourself into the Langstrath Valley. I dare you!</span></div>
Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3660395648068695590.post-17246337964881244072012-03-03T04:13:00.003+00:002012-03-03T04:14:07.769+00:00"Grab your waterproof, you've pulled!"<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Shortly after 0330h this morning, I dragged myself out of bed and was going through the necessary ablutions when the mobile phone pinged after being resurrected after a few short hours.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There, at the top of the pile of twitter notifications, was the email...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>"Welcome to the TGO Challenge"</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am not on the Standby List any more. See you in the Highlands!</span>Carl Mynott @GBWildlifeTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180989501670598245noreply@blogger.com6