TGO Challenge 2012- Kincraig to Ruigh Aiteachain (Glen Feshie)

Like she (Louise) says, I am 'on a roll'.

So, here we have Day 7.

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.
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.

But! I had been offered BREAKFAST!

So why would I be rushing to get out into the weather? 

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.

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.

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. 

I took a lichen to this lichen.

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?

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.

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.

Glen Feshie Ponies

Ruigh Aitecheachachainaechain Bothy

My commandeered platform (which I did not use)

I wasn't sure whether this was a good sign, or not.

The 'Front Room'

The Back(side) Room

Tent 'Hamlet'

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. 

They were:

Martin Angel
Gordon Green
Frederic (and his festering feet)
Gordon Scott
Bill Howden
Stevie O'Hara (the fire starter)
Lynsey Pooler (who looked like she had been hugging a peat hag - I found out later that was exactly what had happened)
Ken & Nina
Eric & another person (sorry)
Russ Mannion & Herman
Sandy & Carol
Malcolm
Croydon & Morpeth
John
Tim
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")
Kate
Stan
Ian
Grant (with a huge bag of logs atop his pack)
Tony
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)
Chris

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.

Feshie Fireside Footwear Fetish

Stevie O'Hara and Sandy

Martin Angel, Gordon Green, and my now good pal,  Lynsey Pooler.

View from the water spout

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.

PartyLite Tealights, courtesy of the wonderful and lovely Mrs M

I would not have missed it for the world.