TGOC 2017: Day 3 – The epic (Carn Eige to Drumnadroicht)

When planning our route we were not only seeking to complete the coast-to-coast, but we were seeking a challenge which would test us physically and mentally – and it seemed things were coming to a head to offer us exactly that. For Day 3, already our expected longest day in distance at nearly 40km, we knew we would need a huge effort to stay on schedule, but little did we realise how deep we would have to dig to do that.

Camping high the previous day wasn’t our preferred choice, but with Gabe struggling and the weather deteriorating we were forced to take what we could get.  Pitching early to get some rest was an imperative with both of us short on sleep; not to mention letting Gabe’s illness fade – however it seemed the weather had other ideas and we weren’t going to be resting much, if at all.

Tent Trepidation

As darkness fell the occasional gusts of the early evening, when we had set up, gathered force and became high winds, something we had known was likely to occur camping high and had pitched to avoid the worst of it. The gusts began picking up further with the high valley walls acting like an inconvenient funnel, focusing the speed and the energy towards our little camp. The tents were taking a battering, with my Skyledge shaking with the heavier gusts despite having the better pitch of the two.

Storm flaps were flicking around on both tents as rain noisily pounding the fly, with only our position behind a large rock helping us avoid taking off entirely. The overall experience was incredibly loud, and even the earplugs I brought specifically for bad weather camps only blocked out some of it.  Normally I love storms, provided I’m snug in a sleeping bag or waterproof jacket of course, but that night we really needed some rest; and this crescendo of noise made drifting-off difficult even despite the big hill day.   As the late evening turned in to the small hours I was still awake to the noise of the storm, confident in the tent but concerned the heavy gusts would pull a tent peg loose in the now rather damp earth.

Tiredness claimed me eventually and I must have slept at some point, waking at 4:30am to find my tent still standing (though it was still raining).  We proceeded to make some breakfast – a porridge, nut and milky bar buttons concoction which sounded great when I packed it (complex carbs and sugars to give me a kick), but was rather sickly upon first waking up.  More and more I’m leaning towards camping trips with a ‘dry’ breakfast, like energy bars, and just brew up some coffee – instead, focus on making a warm lunch and/or dinner when I’m better able to keep the rich food down.  Something to plan for future trips.

Hearing G’s squeaky air mat move, I shouted to ask how he was; with a rather tired-sounding groan the only reply.  Getting up, I ambled about to find clean, running water to boil and popped my head in to his tent on my way back.  He was looking in rough shape, with bloodshot eyes and a weary look on his face, and said he hadn’t managed a wink of sleep, something which worried me due to the distance to cover today.  It wasn’t altogether surprising mind-you, his 4-season tent had taken an absolute battering in the more exposed pitch and was undoubtedly much louder to be inside because of that. There wasn’t absolutely nothing we could do to fix this right now though, so we both packed up (in a merciful period of light drizzle), aware of the necessity of getting moving.

We had little in the way of decisions to make with today’s route, as it would be predominantly focused on gaining plenty of distance in order for us to make the Loch Ness ferry the next morning at 8am – and then subsequently on to our hotel, booked in Aviemore for two days later after that – where we would also have our rest day and collect resupply boxes.  If we got too far behind schedule we knew we could expect to miss the boat, quite literally!

Now fully packed up we cracked on immediately, contouring ourselves to the ridge and then putting in a big effort, climbing steeply with hands and knees in order to re-summit, peaks again clad in low cloud (as they were yesterday), then descended alongside the Allt Coire Leachavie – a gurgling stream – before we joined the path which would take us all the way to Loch Affric.

As we dropped to the side of Loch Affric we felt the hot sun on our faces, finally letting us put the rain jackets away and dry off for the first time since our first Munro yesterday.  The views of the area slowly opened up as we descended, teasing us with a glimpse of the still water of the loch, then the forest itself with multiple streams winding their way towards lower ground.  Affric itself is gorgeous, with both of us disappointed we didn’t quite make the distance yesterday to our loch-side campsite which looked stunning in the sunshine as we arrived at the little peninsula on Loch Beinn a’ Mheadhoin we had intended to pitch at.

For those who know the area, I’m sure you are scratching your head at this point. Glen Affric to Drumnadrochit? That’s bloody miles! We were expecting an already challenging 40km day on the flat from our intended Day 2 campsite we had just walked past, with the goal Drumnadroicht’s campsite; however, with our unplanned high camp, it was going to push our distance to almost 60km to make it to the same spot. In short, it was going to be a monster day.

Glen Affric Nature Reserve

We crossed to the south side of the loch as we didn’t fancy the road, yet the compacted rubble access tracks weren’t doing our feet any favours either, covered as they were in jagged aggregate.  The time we spent in the clouds yesterday and today with constant rain had made it difficult to change socks as often as we would have liked, our feet moist and gradually softening because of it, making us vulnerable to blisters – and as we approached 15km done before 10am our feet were really hurting.  Now in the warm sun we stopped to slow their decline, patching up the problem areas with zinc tape, aware that running repairs would be necessary.

Loch Beinn a’ Mheadhoin is a good 8km long and set amongst fine countryside, with the trees in the nature reserve often covered in lichen in intricate patterns (usually the sign of exceptionally clean air) – something which would have made a good painting if we had a lazy day to spend there.  There were birds hovering overhead, frogs hopping out of our way on the path and a general sense of wilderness in what is a pretty isolated part of Scotland. Affric itself was expected to be the highlight of our trip alongside the route through the Cairngorms, and as the scenery unfurled itself it was doing its best to make up for the previous day’s downpour claiming all our Munro views. Eventually we ambled our way away from the loch, taking the easterly path instead of the more meandering one towards Dog Falls (though we did pass some Challengers who said they were heading there).  It was at this point after another ten km on hard track that the feet really started deteriorating rapidly – the ascents and descents having left their mark, sure, but the compacted access tracks were far more problematic, as multiple parts of my feet were blistering at once.

Approaching Tomich we were torn with whether we should decide to simply carry on, aware of the need to make up time lost yesterday, or stop and try to see whether some food was available.  In the end, we saw the pub and our decision was almost immediate.  By this point, now mid-afternoon, we had been walking since 5am pretty much non-stop – other than refilling water bottles and patching up our feet – it was high time we took a proper break. Tomich was a good 28km from our start point that day, so we figured we’d drop in for a pint, as this represented a little bit more than half way and we’d need energy for the rest. We had been warned about the place from a local on the road through the nature reserve, who warned us to to expect eye-watering tourist prices for bog standard quality – but it was, quite literally, the only pub for miles, and beggars can’t be choosers.

Whilst sitting in the sun we met two Challengers (I want to say Mike and Christine, but I was quite sleep deprived by this point) leaving the pub, having done their stint for the day, and we briefly discussed routes. They asked us about our evening campsite and we replied that we were carrying on until Drumnadrochit, to which they seemed a little stunned. This got us in to a spirited discussion about our travails so far, and they seemed interested, saying they “never usually meet the mad ones”, and that they were glad they ran in to us. They were striking camp on what was to be our route out of Tomich, and promised to keep a pitch for us if we reconsidered our impending night route.

The weather caught up to us at this point, having had intermittent showers but plenty of sun since we dropped down from the mountains.  With us dragging our kit (and ourselves) inside the pub for shelter, Mike and Christine headed off with us wishing each other a good crossing. We found a table by the bar and took our shoes off.  We both badly needed a rest; I was tired from little sleep, and the feet were starting to ache unrelentingly.  G was putting in a superhuman effort, with his cold not as bad as yesterday, but he was still running a temperature and had still walked almost 30km with a 24kg backpack – on zero sleep.  And to top it off, this was only half way.

Our food arrived, and never had a burger and fries tasted so good. Now on to our second pint we took a look at the maps, and decided that unless we wanted to lose our ferry crossing, and probably our Aviemore reservation as well (and most of our rest day) – we were going to have to do this.

We headed east, immediately walking quicker, with one purpose in our mind. The area around Tomich is quite pretty with only a few power lines to blight the lovely views, as we pushed up the hill to Loch na Beinne Moire – meeting our fellow Challengers from the pub, now pitched facing the sunset and lounging outside their tent.  At this stage of the day as we entered the rather waterlogged forest, we both knew it was unlikely we would find the rest of the day easy and would certainly end feeling dog tired, but we figured we could do the distance by the early hours, perhaps 4am, and catch up some sleep on the eastern side of Loch Ness the next day. So we hoped, at least.

Emerging from the forest we encountered another compacted earth track for heavy machinery (something I was finding difficult due to the feet), a handful of wind turbines and plenty of tents.  A good five or six of varieties were pitched by a ford a couple of hours from Corrimony, presumably the quicker challengers who were looking to get to Drum for tomorrow’s evening ferry. Stopping to check our equipment as night approached, we checked our head torches, put on an extra layer and enjoyed the sunset as we approached the woods of Corrimony – with it pitch black once we arrived.

Pushing on, now map reading by torchlight, we became pretty knackered from walking kilometre after kilometre of unforgiving construction roads. The dense woodland was robbing us of most of the moonlight, and it was unremittingly dark because of it. Keeping moving was all we were focusing on in order to get to Drum, but we were strong in spirit, even briefly entertaining the thought of whether we’d have time to shower at the campsite before getting on the ferry.

The previous days were catching up to us by now, however, and a huge day 2, on top of the lack of sleep for two consecutive nights was adding up.  To mitigate this I focused on keeping adding fuel to the fire, eating most of our heavier food (G had been handing his out since day 1 to reduce weight) in order to keep me going. The feet ached constantly and we were forced to re-apply blister tape every couple of hours, with more and more areas damaged, but we were relentless.

G had a far away look in his eye of someone so determined he was refusing to fail.  We both seemed to have resolved ourselves that we had gone this far, it was just a couple of hours more, surely? But it was not to be.  We were getting slower and slower, and we knew it.  Night navigation, never foolproof even when you are fresh, was proving more and more difficult as we were getting close to running on empty.  Every stop, I would put my pack down, lay down on it and try anything to get weight off my feet to reduce the pain.  By 3am, with 8km to go and 51km walked for the day, I sat down in a grassy field somewhere near Loch Meikle, feeling absolutely dreadful, and said “thats it for me, let’s camp here”.

What followed was probably the laziest site selection I have ever managed, pitching the tent exactly where I left my pack. I pushed in the pegs, getting thistled in the process. I didn’t care –  I just needed sleep. G put his tent up quickly and we were both zipped inside the shelters within mere minutes. I assume we both fell asleep instantly, I certainly did.  An alarm for 5:30am was set so we could finish the distance, and finally get back on track for our morning ferry.

TGOC 2017: Day 4 – Drumnadroicht, Loch Ness and the Monadhliath