Tuesday, May 27
AND ….
He didn’t sleep well last night. The same again, fell quickly, but then woke up with a dead arm. I am thinking a little after the horse had screwed the stable that the horse needs a different mattress … and/or possible a new back.
Today I get out of bed at 7 am, which feels like a luxurious lie. The Midgies are already full of my floss leaf and their internal store, so I make sure that every damn thing is full in my backpack apart from my tent. As soon as the pub on the site opens for breakfast, I put the head and run for the bar. Breakfast is not bad, I opt for a sausage and a bacon roll, a little coffee and a juice. I feel with a more gentle mood this morning, so take a little time to finish it in the comfort of the bar while I send an update return to Dodgehq. I have a good washing in the shower block before quickly hitting the camp and packing my tent. 8:30 am and I’m back on the road.
The road outside the Beinglas camp towards Carylarich (which I have never written correctly the first time:/) is a long and soft climb after the Fallero River passing some quite surprising waterfalls that Pauso to admire
And I am grateful for the sounds of the river, they help drown the A82, which I am very aware of the noise of the traffic that is to me. The A82 is the main road that connects Glasgow with the west side of the highlands and the parallel whw (which I did not correctly spell the first time) for most today in various degrees of remoteness.
At a short distance, I reach my first «disgusting sheep.» There are several of these along the way, small tunnels built to allow sheep to have access under the railway line to different grazing areas and to allow the walkers the same solution to the ferroviarium line transfers. Now, for the context, I have 6’4 «and change with a bad back and unreliable knees …
To navigate this obstacle, I have to remove my package and drag me while pushing my package in front of me. Any point that has accumulated for delicacy and grace along the way are lost. I scrape my back in a metal tube trying to stop too soon and make my best impression by Samual L Jackson.
Apart from the spine, on one side, I act from the backpack and continue uphill until the road is leveled a bit. I stop for a little water and take a moment to appreciate the impressive beauty of the highlands on a clear day (ISH)
The Valley (or Glen) I am going through Glen Falloch has majestic rolling mountains on each side and viewed up and down today. The gods of the weather seem to be giving me a break after 48 hours of almost solid rain.
I have been going up for 5 miles this morning since I left the camp and my reward continues shortly … the midpoint in Crylarich
Here the road is divided. On the right, a short walk through the hill is the center of the village of Carylarich and its comforts. On the left and my current choice, the rest of these mornings go up to Tyndrum, where I intend to be for lunch.
The road passes through several miles of forest managed with areas of thab of severely mixed scars mixed with deep perennial firewood. It is a marked contrast that moves from one to another along with some short and descendants interlected with some panoramic views through Glen.
The road begins to make a subtle general descent now now down towards the railroad and the road, passing under a viaduct that transports the railway line before reaching a road crossing. Fortunately, traffic is relatively thin to me, but in a busy day I have no difficulty imagining that this is a brief skamper through a main road. I continue down and the road takes a more agricultural turn, opening an impressive bridge over the fall before addressing the farm and returning to another road crossing and entering the forest of the Tyndrum community. Step several information boards about battles that have been fought here and I stop to read each one, in particular the history of the lochan, the legend of the lost sword caught my attention … it seems careless. How you lose a 4 -foot Claymore is beyond me. I’m quite sure I would notice if I leave mine …
A short road along the way and I arrived at Tyndrum. Although it is a relatively small town, in terms of paths of trails, it is a common place during the night (I notice that several signs advertised camping with hydromassage bathtubs and a popular massage therapist that offers sports therapy massages to relieve painful muscles!), As well as an excellent reference for refilling. There are several pubs and coffee shops on the main road that serve walkers and motorists at a cross point as the road is divided into two and offers the option to go to the west coast. This is lunch time and the time to find food, Real Food Cafe is excellent, I have eaten there before a couple of times on several road trips, but today I chose the Tyndrum Inn, since I can get a passport stamp there. A sandwich and a water painting later … well, Irish water, which has soaked in malted barley … ok, is Guinness … and I feel well fed, but also something painful. My legs feel very rigid and yearn for a longer break. I weigh where I want to camp tonight, the Orchy bridge, about 6 miles along the path and I decide that I can allow myself to take half an hour without any real consequence.
28 minutes later I take my packet from the storage area outside the bar and go to the Green Stop somewhat infamous
Most of the paths that I read or see on YouTube have at least one infamous location of replenishment. I would apply that green is so well that location in the Whw. There is a wide selection of almost everything that can be thought that you may need, from energy bars, to camp foods, to the small outdoor retailers to replace/complement anything that you have forgotten/lost/in bankruptcy. I take advantage of the garbage containers there to get rid of anything I need, recharge my water in the tap outside the store and take some salami bars, a little fruit and a drink can. Then I convinced my painful legs to action and pick up the exit of the town. The path is directed by the hill in the shadow of the main road, beyond a cemetery curiously scarce, before crossing the railway line and starting a long road mostly descending through the valley to the Orchy bridge.
I must take into account at this point that although this is one of the most occupied spring weeks on the road, since leaving the shores of Lake Lomond, it seems that I am lucky to find lonely blocks of time on the road. Each stop seems to be busy with the walkers, so it seems that I am timing the beginning of each leg to find a gap in the bubble. Perhaps 3 or 4 people spend in the next 5 miles, the weather continues to hold, this is a happiness.
The Orchia bridge is a bit small, I doubt even use the word village, settlement or village feels more appropriate. It is remarkable for two things from a Walkers perspective, the main station in the Fort William line to Glasgow and the Bridge of Orchy hotel. Now the station is very picturesque, it can even remain in the rooms on the platform if you can book them in advance! The Sleoperon Railroad Service of Caledonia stops there, one of the only remaining sleep trains on the British Rail Network network, it is on my desire list at some point.
Just for the lane from the station to the hotel there are some camp capsules and a new glamping installation called «The 60 Mile Inn» (I see what you did there, well played!)
It is mid or late at this point when I arrive at the hotel. I really don’t feel another dehydrated camp meal at this point and my legs still have a lot of pain, so I stop for half an hour at the hotel to get some food, oo have a pastrami club sandwich! Hells Yeah (*Chefs Note: Actually good sandwich! Many pastrami, a good proportion of pins to meat. The side of the fries was a bit disappointing and it was quite expensive. 8/10)
At this point I have my first trip disaster. I (I try to take the opportunity to load my battery bank while I am eating and my phone. My battery pack stubbornly refuses to load or turn on even though I know that it is around the remaining 50%. My stop becomes an hour when I let my phone load as much as it is. But the battery seems to be Doa. This is an annoyance. I sent a message to my wife to say that the updates can be less frequent, since I need to be a bit conservative with the phone’s battery now.
I go to the river next to the hotel and a popular wild camping place just on the bridge
However, the time that passes at the hotel trying to solve my energy bank means that the bubble seems to have caught me and there is very little space. Instead of getting somewhere, I decide to advance the highlands and find something a bit more remote.
3 miles and several short and acute rain turtles later arrived at the inverture hotel, a beautiful and remote housing in a small road to nothing. About 400 meters from the hotel there is a wild camp in a river curve. There are already several tents there, but there is still a lot of space. I find a good launch, configure the camp and, deciding that I need calories, make some food. Dinner is a dehydrated stew of beef and barley of pearls (*Chefs note. What is this? Know gravel mixed with boot leather. Iwillneverbuythisagain/10). I force it to the 600 calories it claims to provide. I notice several walks that return to the hotel for a light soda. This looks like an excellent idea and I run the 400m to the hotel myself … I notice that I am limping slightly … Rear!
What follows was a delicious couple of hours talking with strangers about our thoughts on the road, other paths that we have walked and future trekking ambitions. In a moment of ‘It is a small world after all’, it turns out that one of the walkers lives about 10 miles of me we are often going to the same coffee in the coastal city where they live. When I decide to call it a night, wandering/limbing my store, I take off the runners of my trails and I find that my left spin is very fans and red. Rut Roh … I take some analgesics and anti -inflammatories and put myself in my comforter at night. . . A little nervous the next day.
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