The Great Outdoors Challenge: Lochailort to Abroath (part 2)

Loch Ossian Scottish Youth Hostel

Days 1-3 can be found here.

Day 4. After the storm abated, I restaked the tent, and drifted off to sleep. The morning dawned drizzly and overcast, and it matched my mood. I just wasn't feeling it. I continued east, and wondered if I might catch any Challengers at the bothy. It was empty, however, and it did not appear that anyone had been in it the night before. So, my decision to wild camp yesterday evening, instead of pushing to the bothy, was a good one.

I made a cup of coffee, and had a slight fire to warm up. It was now raining, and I was in no hurry to push on. Eventually, I decided to walk to the next bothy, and see how I felt then.

I continued a few miles to Stanoieg bothy, and again paused here a bit to dry off and read.

The rain lightened a bit, and so I continued on the wet trail. I crossed a wooden bridge, and headed past the bottom of a gloomy looking Loch Treig.

near Loch Treig

The rain came on again as I headed south from Loch Treig towards Rannoch. I sheltered underneath a train overpass, and had a good snack. I then opened my umbrella once again, and headed up the track. To pass the time, I listened to The Memory Palace podcast, a narrative history podcast from the U.S.

As the afternoon wore on, I was faced with pitching the tent in the rain. However, I then came up the Loch Ossian youth hostel. At first, I thought it was a boat house, but then I asked a Challenger I'd seen enter it briefly what it was.

A youth hostel! An opportunity to dry out!

Inside, there was a cast iron stove with a fire. There were a pair of friendly hillwalkers, and a young German woman. The warden wasn't in, so I phoned the Scottish Youth Hostels, and was able to book a bunk.

I claimed my space, and set out my sleeping bag to air out.

My bunk

I warmed up with a cup of hot chocolate. The German woman had brought a viola, and played for us while the rain came down outside. I was warm, dry, and perfectly content. It was a nice way to finish a day with such dispiriting start.

Part 3 can be found here.

The Great Outdoors Challenge: Lochailort to Arbroath (Part 1)

View of Loch Beoraid - there is no trail along the loch, despite what is shown on the map

This was my third T.G.O. challenge. As described previously, this is a self-supported walk from the west coast of Scotland to the east. The only real rule is you have to walk, although you can take ferries across lochs if need be.

Arrival.

I was at work for most of the day, and then took the train to Lochailort. On the train I met friendly fellow challengers, and we chatted about routes and, invariably, compared pack weights. We arrived in Lochailort at 11 p.m.. My colleagues were staying at the Inn, but it was full, so I'd planned to wild-camp near the river. I headed down a small road to the river, and found a spot behind a small mound of earth. It was a functional site, given that it was dark, and I was soon in my sleeping bag. A car drove by later, and the headlights illuminated the tent briefly, but, if visible, I was barely so, and it was quiet for the rest of the night. A slight breeze came up, but I was warm and comfortable.

Day 1.

I made some coffee, and then packed up. At the Lochailort Inn, I puttered around a bit until the restaurant opened, and then grabbed a cup of coffee. I signed in for the Challenge (the Inn was one of the official check-in points), and then was on my way.

I walked along the road for a bit, and then ascended to Loch Beoraid. A word of advice for future Challengers: the trail shown on the map along the loch does not exist! Luckily, it had been dry recently, and the bogs underfoot were springy. I made my way along the loch, meet a fit fellow Challenger by the name of Mike. We walked together for a bit, and then he went on to do a Munro. Smoke was visible on the hill, from a fire started by the steam train. I ascended through a steep pass, and then descended to a welcome bothy at Cornhully.

I was tired, and hadn't known about this bothy, but there was only one other person there - a friendly Cape Wrath walker by the name of Roger (or Richard) - so I unrolled my sleeping bag for the night.

Unfortunately, I think I had an out-of-date dehydrated meal for dinner (or something earlier?), and was quite unwell that night.

Day 2.

I packed up, and debated staying put for the day. The planned route would take me up a steep climb, into the next valley, and then up another climb. I was dehydrated, and did not have the strength or the will for this. Having chatted with Mike the day before, I was aware that I could take the ferry to Ft. William, if I could make it to the jetty opposite by 4:30 p.m. In Ft. William I could get something for my stomach and recuperate. I thus opted for a low-level route.

My route took me through Glen Finnan which, despite my physical condition, was enjoyable. I passed under the Glenfinnan viaduct.

I walked along the main road to Ft. William, and chatted with another friendly challenger from Scotland. We parted ways at the A road along the south side of the loch, and I took this another 9 miles or so to the jetty. Rain had threatened all day, and materialized as I reached the small shelter near the jetty. I settled in for a two hour wait, and cooked some ramen-type noodles. The warm, salty broth was welcome.

I messed around with my phone a bit, trying to download a book. The decision not to bring one, on weight grounds, was a mistake. After an hour, Mike, who I'd met the first day, arrived. He'd taken a more ambitious route, and was now headed for Ft. William as well.

Once across, I stopped at the pharmacy for some medicine, and at a charity shop, where I picked up a John Grisham novel for £1.50. I resupplied at Morrison's grocery store, and had a very welcome sports drink.

I settled in at the Backpackers Hostel, managed a fish supper, and chatted with the varied travellers I met there.

Day 3.

The night in the hostel had a slight twist. Each dorm room had 8-10 bunks, and a door that locked when you shut it. At around 2 a.m., I rose for a trip to the loo, but forgot that my key was in the trousers I'd left in the room. My dorm room was locked. I tapped quietly at the door, but everyone was asleep. It was my own fault.

I realised that the guy on the bunk above me was still out at the pub, and should be back soon. I gathered a blanket and pillow from the common living room, and laid down outside our dorm room. At 3 a.m., his friend arrived, but he had forgotten his key as well. A bit later, the other guy came in, a bit worse for wear, but with his key. So, I was reunited with my bunk.

From a walking perspective, this was the best day of the trip. The walk up Glen Nevis was the best I'd yet experienced in the U.K. I arrived at a Yosemite-like valley, in perfect conditions. One of the side benefits of doing the Challenge is finding places you know you will come back to, and this was one.

I pushed on above the Glen, with the vague goal of reaching a bothy and meeting other Challengers. However, as the afternoon slipped by and my fatigue grew, I opted to wild-camp.

I set up my tent, sponged off with water from a nice burn, and cooked dinner. As I did so the clouds above the hills turned as black as I'd ever seen. As the first drops of rain started, I retreated into the tent. A squall struck, and it emerged that my tent was not quite as well staked out as I'd imagined.

I set up camp before the storm hit, just.

Part 2 can be found here.

Cross-country

My wife was away this week, so running had to be squeezed in between taxiing children to their activities, dishes, and laundry.

M: swim 1300m
T: nothing
W: 7 miles (1:03)
Th: 4.5 miles (intervals with club on a cold night)
F: nothing
Sat: 5 miles cross-country race
Sun: 8 miles in the woods

*

Saturday was a cross country meet, and I ran as a member of my local running club. It was 5 degrees C (41 degrees F.), and muddy. The race was comprised of three laps through the woods and some saturated farmland. By the time I ran, the last race of the day, the trail was a shoe-sucking bog in places.

On the first lap I tried to stick with another member of my club, but other runners kept getting between us. Still, I was able to catch back up to him on the hills. On the second lap, he pulled away a bit, and I just tried to hang on.

Running hill races likely helps in picking one's footing through woods, and you get used to running on uneven ground. At least this is what I told myself.

The third lap eventually arrived, and I felt like I was just hanging on during the climbs. On the descents though, I could open it up a bit. Through the finish chute, I tried to push, and no one passed me.

I felt like a lot of people passed me during the race, but hopefully running this type of race helps with my conditioning.

And, on a cold, short November day, it seems fitting.

Running a faster 5k: part 6

Today I ran my 16th 5k of the year.

It was tied for my slowest of the year.

My times in the first few months of the year were better than last year, but still over 21 minutes.

Then, in June, I broke the 21 minute barrier. Over the summer and through this fall, 6 of my 7 5K attempts were below 21 minutes. This included my new PB of 20:33 (for a parkrun).

So, consistent effort has paid dividends.

Today I ran hard, but my time was over 21 minutes again. However, I'd been ill with a stomach bug mid-week, and may still have been weakened from this. Also, I'd run the Glen Ogle ultramarathon the weekend before, so perhaps my legs weren't fully back (though they felt fine).

*

It late in the year now, and the sun is low. On my run yesterday, I saw that the fields had now been harvested.

The Great Outdoors Challenge: Shiel Bridge to Stonehaven

The Great Outdoors Challenge is an annual long-distance backpacking trip across Scotland. It is organised by the TGO magazine, an excellent U.K. publication on walking and backpacking. Entries are limited to around 300 participants, and the goal is to walk from one of several starting points on the west coast of Scotland to the east coast. Participants, or challengers as they call themselves, map their own routes from west to east. There are a number of guidelines, but the only real rule is that you have to walk the entire way.

This year was my second Challenge, and I started at Shiel Bridge, a hamlet on the west coast of Scotland. I pitched my tent at the local campground, and headed to the pub at the hotel. There I met a Scottish/French backpacker who was doing the Cape Wrath trail I believe. I also met Thom Sandberg, whose excellent blog also recounts this year's Challenge.

The next day I headed up Glen Licht.

I fell in with another challenger, Ben, who lives in Baltimore and is a photographer. We separated a bit before the youth hostel in Glen Affric, and then, after a terrific bowl of lentil soup and a roll at the hostel, headed up the Glen together. It was windy, and we pitched in a flat area adjacent to the river. I tried to tuck my tent in behind a little grass mound.

I slept poorly that night. I got to sleep fine, but the wind dropped and so did the temperature. In addition, I worried about ticks (have found one on myself earlier in the evening), and was itchy from midge bites a few days prior (after a hill race). It was well below freezing. I subsequently learned that I could shift the down a bit in my sleeping bag so that it is more on the top of the bag, and where it provides more warmth. I wore a balaclava, but could have used a down hoodie.

The next day I walked along Loch Affric and then Loch Beinn a Mheadoin. I talked with David and Holly, first-timers from Wisconsin, who were doing the Challenge as part of their honeymoon. They ended up taking a different route in the afternoon, and I set up an early wild camp near a river.

I was tired from my broken night, and the arch of my left foot was sore - perhaps from going a bit longer than planned on the preceeding day. A camp on my own allowed me to have an early night, and snore if I wished.

The next day I was on the road early, and stopped for a coffee at the Tomich hotel. After this I decided to stay on the road, as opposed to going through the hills (as I'd intially planned), as it was a long pull to Drumnadrochit.

The road walk featured a large climb nonetheless, but on the other side I regained the Affric/Kintail way. This is a newly signposted route that follows forest tracks. I fell in with Tom and Kerry, friendly and worldly challengers from northern Virginia. We walked together to Drumnadrochit, and I checked in to the hostel there.

After a shower, I went to the grocery store, and then enjoyed a hearty meal in a restaurant in Drumnadrochit. Later, I caught up with Tom and Kerry, and then another couple from Wyoming, Matt and Lindley, at a hotel pub.

I returned to the hostel, and slept fitfully.


Day 4

I woke early and walked quickly to the jetty on the other side of town. The ferry left early, and I didn't want to miss it. At the Jetty were Tom, Kerry, and a handful of other challengers.

The trip across Loch Ness was enjoyable. There were great views of Castle Urquart, and the boat captain was chatty.

On the opposite shore, I walked with the group for a bit, and then just with David and Holly, into the hills. The Monalidiath Mountains were being developed for wind farms on their eastern side, and I followed the dusty lorry track upwards. Eventually, I came to the end of the track, and at a hunters shelter, set my compass for a crossing of the trackless high ground.

The Monalidiath Mountains are rounded and relatively featureless. I wouldn't want to be crossing them in a gale, but enjoyed using my compass to navigate across the peat bogs.

Eventually, I descended and followed a track to River Findhorn. I was weary from my lack of sleep, and from a day in the hills, and found a good spot to pitch my tent near a stone wall. I cleaned up, ate, and turned in early.

Day 5

After breakfast, I headed up the track through Glen Findhorn.

I then crossed the river, and followed a track into the hills.

The track eventually ended, and again I relied on my compass for navigation. This time, however, there was a bit more uncertainty, and the track I'd been following ended in a slightly different place than shown on the map. I knew which direction I needed to go though, and continued across the high ground. I then descended to a hunting hut, and brewed a cup of coffee. Tom and Kerry showed up shortly thereafter, and we walked together down to the Red Bothy on River Dulnain.

It was 3 p.m., but the rain was coming on, and I decided to stay in the dry bothy rather than pushing on another 7 miles to Aviemore. I offered Tom and Kerry the use of my fuel (theirs had run short), and this sealed their decision to join me. We had a fire, and a chatty evening, before turning in.

Day 6

I walked with Tom and Kerry over the Burma Road. Tom had been trained in the U.S. military (officer school), so it was interesting to hear about his training and experiences with navigation (he was expert in this regard).

We reached the outskirts of Aviemore, and Tom and Kerry checked into their accommodation, while I headed to the Mountain Cafe to get a table for the three of us. We enjoyed the excellent fare there, and then they went to do laundry, while I resupplied at Tescos.

I then head up the road to Glen More. I was able to book into the youth hostel there while I walked. Upon arrival, I shared a glass of wine with a fellow Challenger and his wife before check in.

Pack explosion at the Cairngom Lodge Youth Hostel

After a beer or two and dinner, I headed to my bunk to read and then drifted off to sleep


Day 7

The forecast was poor, and, unfortunately, accurate. I nonetheless headed out towards Bynack More.

Low clouds over the Cairngorm mountains

The trail up to the plateau on Bynack More was excellent. However, as I ascended to the broad, arctic-like plateu on Bynack More, the weather deteriorated. Descending from the shoulder of the mountain, the rains came in earnest.

Excellent track up Bynack More

I pushed on. It was a driving rain, and I encountered one of the Challenge control staff on the hill. He asked how things were, and I indicated that I was pushing on to the next bothy to shelter.

I descended to the Fords of Avon shelter. There I met a Challenger from the youth hostel, Ian (I think), who was sheltering there for lunch. I joined him, and warmed up with a pot of ramen soup. Ordinarily, I don't really eat ramen noodles, but on a backpacking trip - and particularly on a cold, rainy day - they are particularly welcome.

Eventually, we pushed on along the wet track along the Riven Avon. We reached the Faindouran bothy, which was still have work done to it internally. However, it was dry, and out of the wind. Actually, there were two buildings at Faindouran, and the one that I picked might have been a former horse stable. I swept up the dust from the newly-laid floor, and decided to settle in for the evening, even though it was relatively early.

Later, three Challengers arrived, two from Edinburgh and one, Wilf, from down south. We arranged ourselves within the bothy, and turned in early. In the middle of the night I made a trip outside, and the moon was bright.

I tried to dry out at the Faindouran bothy.


Day 8

Wilf and I headed up Glen Avon.

The brown hills of Glen Avon

Eventually, we reach the Linn of Avon. Here, the sun was out, and we dried our feet and socks, and made coffee. A swim is the fast moving water was tempting, but it was still cool out. To our right was the rocky outcroppings of Ben Avon, and I made a mental note to return here sometime with my son to explore these.

Linn of Avon

We turned and head south, and lunched on a small beach at the end of Loch Builg. I showed Wilf my strategies for lunch - tuna and tortilla wraps.

As we walked on, the afternoon slipped by, and we decided to pitch on a field by the ruins of Daldownie. It would have been possible to push on towards Ballater, but this was another 9 miles at least, so we decided to call it a day. Estate vehicles drove by on the nearby track now and then, but they seemed happy with us pitching there. It was an early night, and I found myself drifting off to podcasts.

Wild camp near River Avon

Day 9

Wilf and I packed up, and headed towards Ballater. We passed the time talking about his work, and it was interesting to hear about his experiences as a police officer. We arrived in Ballater around lunch time, and had a fish supper and a pint at the pub, before resupplying at the Co-op store. Wilf kindly let me share his double hostel room, and we enjoyed excellent pizzas at the nearby pub. There, Challengers rolled in, and Thom and Kerry arrived later after a big day.

Day 10

Wilf having breakfast at the hostel in Ballater

Wilf and I had separate routes planned from Ballater, and I headed out to join the Deeside way. It was a quiet Sunday morning, and I chatted with an older lady who told me that she'd lived in Ballater for more than 25 years, and had never seen flooding as bad as the floods of the previous winter.

The Deeside way on a nice morning

A fishing hut near the River Dee. My pack is on the bench.

At a bridge over the River Dee, I caught up with Thom once again. The bridge appeared to be at least 15 feet above the water, yet still was damaged from the winter flood.

Damage to a bridge over the River Dee from the recent flood

I walked with Thom to Aboyne, where he had lunch and I joined him for coffee. It was great to chat to such an positive, creative guy. Thom told me about his book, and later in the summer, I received a copy of Lost Land of the Lyttles.

We parted ways in Aboyne, and thereafter I crossed the river and continued East. I met a friendly Canadian Challenger who had just retired, and then continued on my own. In a wood, I debated stopping at a good flat spot to pith my tent, but continued on. This was a mistake, as it soon began pouring. I continued, and even with the umbrella I was soaked from the waist down. There simply wasn't anyplace to get out of the rain.

Finally, I came to a forestry section, and pitched in the trees. Once the tent was set up, I soaked up the water on the tent floor with my sponge, and inflated my Therma-rest. I filtered some water from a muddy rivulet, and made ramen. Inside my tent, I got in my bag. All things considered, I was warm, dry, and fed. There were wet clothes under my rain fly, and they would not be pleasant to put back on, but that was tomorrow's problem.

I pitched in the pouring rain, but the tent kept me dry through the night

Day 11

It was head down time.

I was up, packed, breakfasted and on the trail by 6:30. The rain had stopped. My shoes and socks were soaked, but there was nothing for it. I followed a bike path for a bit, and then dodged traffic on a surprisingly busy B road until I reached a track which led into the Fetteresso Forest.

Up the Foggy Road...

No fog on this day

I was doubly careful with my navigation in the Forest. At forks in the road, I'd set my compass and choose the road heading in the correct direction.

In the Fetteresso Forest

It was an enjoyable walk, and towards the end of the forest I listened to a few of my short history podcasts.

I left the forest, and began making my way to Stonehaven. I adopted a 55 minute walk: 5 minute rest ratio, and kept this up, eating the miles.

The end is in sight.

Eventually, I entered the outskirts of Stonehaven, and made my way to the beach.

The finish at Stonehaven beach

It had been a good push to Stonehaven, on my reckoning more than 20 miles. But now the work was done, and I caught a bus to Montrose and Challenge control, and then the train home.

Running a faster 10K?

I didn't have high expectations for today's 10k race, but I'd done o.k. in a half marathon a few weeks ago (for which I was a touch undertrained), and my 5k parkruns may have provided a bit of speed, so equally, I had some reason for optimism.

The day was partially cloudy and cool, and there was a slight breeze.

I wore my lighter shoes, socks, shorts, and club vest.

I did a bit of a warm-up with a friend, and then lined up towards the front of the crowd. It was clear that I was in the sub-40 minute crowd, so I slipped a bit backwards in the minutes before the start.

Everyone seemed to go out fast, and I felt that I was running too fast. I looked at my Garmin and it read 6:10 pace. Even if I wanted to run close to a 40 minute race, this was too fast. In the end, mile 1 came in at 6:25.

In mile 2 I could feel myself slowing, but there was also a tailwind, so I tried to keep my legs turning over quickly. 2 came in at 6:43.

In mile 3, a teammate passed me, and I tried to stick on his shoulder. He was running a great pace, but I thought I just see how long I could hang on. At this point we passed a runner who had pulled up, and was massaging his achilles.

At the 5K point, my time was 20:16. I was closing in on my goal of a sub-20 minute 5k...

For mile 4, we turned into the wind. I was now just hanging on. Every time my teammate surged, I closed the gap. 4 was 6:45.

In mile 5 we headed along a road with traffic on the other side. I tried to relax, and let my arms hang loosely for a few seconds. I also tried to smile. I stayed with my teammate, and 5 came in at 6:33.

Now we neared the athletics stadium in which the race would finish. I was feeling o.k., so I slipped in front of my teammate. Up ahead I could see another teammate who I wished to catch. I closed the gap on her, but in the meantime my colleague caught me up and passed me again. 6 was 6:41.

We headed around the back of the stadium, and then onto the track for the final 100m. I sprinted.

*

My time, now, is a touch unclear. On my watch I was 40:53:99. That hundredth of a second matters, because my previous PB is 40:54.

So let's see what my chip time turns out to be. I would be quite pleased to set a PB at age 50.

But even if it isn't, it was still, for me, a good run. At mile 3 I was just at the point of slowing up a bit, and instead I sped up and raced with my teammate, and this pushed me to do something I've never done before (or, haven't done more than once before!).

*
Update:

Official time: 40:53. A personal best.

Running a faster 5k: part 5

This was my week:

Mon.: no running (legs tired from backpacking over the weekend)
Tues.: swim 1300m; run 4 miles
Weds.: run 11.1 miles, second half at tempo
Thurs.: no running
Fri.: run 5 miles on track (1 mile at 6:53)
Sat.: run 5 miles (3.1 of which were Parkrun)
Sun.: run 6 miles on trails

*

My running has been generally consistent over the past three months, and I've been trying to get in a mid-week long run to prepare for my upcoming half-marathon.

*

I hadn't has a stab at my 5k for several weeks because of other commitments. I did an easy track session on Friday evening, and thus went into Saturday morning Parkrun accepting that I wouldn't be absolutely fresh.

I met a friend at the start, and kidded him about me following to get under 21 minutes. He said his training hadn't been going well, so that was unlikely.

In the event, he ran well, and although I kept him in view, I couldn't close the gap.

A guy in football clothes passed me repeatedly on the hills, but I caught him back on the descents.

For the final 400m I strided out thinking this would net me a few seconds.

In the end, officially, I finished in 21:00.

I was hoping to dip under the 21 minute mark, and on my watch I'd just done so, but it was a good run nonetheless.

My suspicion is that the longer runs are helping my general fitness, and this is filtering through in my times.

How I can shave another minute off of this time is a big question.

*

This past weekend my son and I went for a short backpacking trip in the highlands. In the middle of the night I woke to the light rustling of snow hitting the tent.