jlemarinel-lejog.com

Total miles: 10.0
Elevation gain: 2,688 ft
Time walking: 10:30am – 6pm
Miles to date: 1,344.7

A “short” day that took a long time! Lots of bracken-bashing today, a rather addictive past-time, which was satisfying but made for slow progress. The reward: stunning clifftop walking, spectacular views of waterfalls cascading straight into the sea, precarious sea stacks and cavernous geos, all of which barely anybody else has seen. Not to mention the satisfaction of helping to create a new path that hopefully many people will go on to enjoy. The downside: aching a lot more than I should do after a ten mile hike!

It was another gorgeous sunny morning when I woke up, although much windier today than the previous couple of days and the sea was choppy and uninviting. Jay (who kindly let me crash on his floor) spent some time talking me through the rest of the route, pointing out potentially tricky sections, and then I headed out, looking forward to being able to take a slower day. I was anticipating, and looking forward to, a bit of scrub bashing on the way as Jay had warned me there were some very overgrown sections that were hard going, and I thought it would be nice if I could make a bit of a path for others to follow. The first section, from Jay’s house, was already well-bashed and easy to follow, although I kept cross referencing against the map and instructions so I could add comments if needed. There are some slightly fiddly sections cutting in and out of the clifftop fence but after a while I was able to stay outside of the fence for most of the way. This is much better where landowner relations are concerned, but currently much harder going!

The views quickly made it worthwhile though, the first extra special sight being a tall waterfall tumbling off the cliff into the sea below, shimmering silver and white in the sunlight against the deep blue of the sea and the pale blue of the sky. It was quite a sight, and I was struck by how nobody would have seen this unless they’d walked this path (which given there isn’t actually a path, isn’t all that many people!) or seen it from a boat. I felt privileged to be up there at that beautiful vantage point.

The waterfall soon disappeared out of sight as the path cut in around a narrow cove and onto the very wet ground above the steep gully through which the stream that fed the waterfall ran. Getting down to the stream was probably the trickiest bit of the day – wet, steep and overgrown with damp-loving plants – but thankfully this is a stream where a bridge has been built so once down it was fine. The way back up was steep but it was also south-facing and grassy, rather than bracken covered or boggy so although tiring it was straightforward.

I took a rest at the top on a handy rock and checked my tracker, amazed to find I had only covered 1.5 miles! The terrain makes such a difference. I hadn’t even been doing that much deliberate scrub bashing yet, just picking my way along the faint path, but I think a fair bit of time was lost crossing stiles and a couple of barbed wire fences (after tearing my waterproof rucksack cover the other day I’m a bit more careful now, although I still managed to catch and enlarge the hole in my waterproof trousers where the seam had started to disintegrate. Ah well, another item to add to the “things I’ve destroyed on this trip” list!).

The next section was pleasantly grassy which made for slightly easier walking, although the grass was long and soft and hid the occasional hole. The wind was stronger too so I was taking it steady on the narrower bits! The next impressive sight was An-Dun, a hill-like outcrop of rock joined to the mainland by an incredibly thin ridge above a narrow sea arch. “Dun” usually indicates a hill fort of some kind…I wonder if people once lived on top of this one. It would be bleak up there on bad days! Pretty fine views though!

Soon after An-Dun there was a gate which marked the end of the grazed section of cliff and I had been warned that past this gate it was very overgrown. Jay wasn’t lying! Up this far north the summer growing season is short but fierce, and unless an area is regularly grazed (or otherwise managed/trampled), bracken (and gorse etc) quickly takes over. Here it was bracken, but thankfully it is the end of the season and it is now dying off which makes it easier to squash! For the next couple of miles I made my way along, trampling a path as best I could. Fun, and satisfying, but slow. And surprisingly tiring! I must be slightly bonkers as it’s not like this journey isn’t challenging enough, without adding in scrub bashing to the mix, but it certainly has added another dimension to my adventure, and one I’m rather pleased about! I have to admit though that I was rather glad when I reached the point where the path leaves the cliff tops before Dunbeath Castle and cuts in through a field (how civilised!) before joining a well-maintained grassy path through the estate, near to but separate from the road. This path eventually joins the old A9 which is now a quiet, pleasant dead-end road leading past the castle driveway into the southern part of Dunbeath.

Along this road I met Ken, the dad of a friend, who lives in Dunbeath, and his lovely terrier. It was so nice to see someone with links to back home, and we chatted about my trip as we walked back to his house (which is right on the sea front!) for a cup of tea and a rest for my feet. The weather was just starting to turn, the wind was picking up and the clouds were looking moody, so it was nice to get inside for a bit. After tea Ken walked me around the harbour to the picnic area where the next section of path started, with a steep climb back up to the cliff tops. The going was much less overgrown on this section, but it was still a tough walk, as you’d expect for any coast path, let alone an unfinished one!

There were some spectacular features along the way – massive geos with sheer cliffs and rocky beaches, waves crashing at their feet, and sea stacks which looked as though they’d topple and fall with the next battering wave. Birds – buzzards, gulls, other birds I didn’t know – flew out of hiding places in the fragmented cliffs and soared over the sea spray and craggy headlands. There were views back towards Dunbeath Castle, its white walls standing out clearly against the dark slopes behind.

The walk continued along the cliff top before retreating a safe distance back from the edge into fields. There was a slightly tricky section that is yet to be properly marked or constructed (i.e. stiles etc built) because the landowner is not playing ball. With the detailed instructions I was fine, but for once my progress was slowed not by heavy undergrowth but by the need to carefully cross barbed wire fences. In order to cross a stream that cannot yet have a bridge built over it the path veers inland toward the road and then back again, and as I was heading towards another set of fences, figuring out the best place to cross, I hear a quad bike draw up behind me. Uh oh!

I had an instant guilty feeling, even though I was perfectly within my rights to be there, and I wondered what the farmer was going to say. He was actually really friendly, and although I think his ulterior motive was to dissuade me from crossing his land, he warned me that the next few fields had cows and a bull in them and the trying to follow the coast was “very difficult”. I didn’t quite have the energy or the desire to explain that I had come across more cows and “difficult paths” than he could imagine and was so far coping very well, thank him very much, so I played the wide eyed schoolgirl and thanked him for the warning. His suggestion (clearly not meant to be ignored, despite saying it was of course completely my choice) was that I head back to the road and follow it into Latheronwheel, which would be easier. I decided it would be easiest just to go along with his suggestion (and to be fair, although the cows were at the far end of the field and would almost certainly have been absolutely fine, I had been eyeing them slightly warily) so retraced my steps across the field to easily join the A9.

I was disappointed to be back on the road as I was so close to completing the day entirely on the path. Furthermore there was a deer farm coming up with an enormous deer-fence-surrounded field which would make it impossible to cross back to the path before Latheronwheel, meaning a couple of miles on the road instead. I felt myself being a bit annoyed with the farmer. It must be difficult though, as a landowner. I can understand their reluctance to open up their fields to a potentially very popular long distance trail, which could see hundreds of hikers passing through, with the challenges that brings in terms of fence maintenance and livestock considerations. It wouldn’t be so bad if all hikers were considerate, but sadly it is still so common to see litter and all such things along trails. I’d like to claim that long distance hikers are perhaps a little more considerate and aware of their impact, but judging by the state of parts of the West Highland Way I’m disappointed that that might not be the case. I do hope that a mutually agreeable solution can be reached though, as it really is so lovely to not be walking along the road!

As I headed down the road I spotted a lay-by on the right and decided to see if I could find a way back to the cliff tops now I was at the far end of the cow field (and out of sight of the farmer!). The deer fence had just begun so I followed it back to the edge of the cow field, which was enclosed by a fence-topped wall. And then, result! I spotted a promising-looking space between the deer fence and cow field wall that looked like it would head right down to the cliff tops. The only problem was that there was a 5-6ft drop down a wall to get to it, not an easy prospect with a heavy backpack. I inspected the wall more closely and was happy (like, seriously happy – fist pump in the air type happy) to find there was a tiny stone ledge halfway down, just big enough for me to carefully climb down if I hung onto the fence and the stones at the top of the wall. Successfully landing ninja-like in the precious gap, I triumphantly headed down the slope, bashing my way through bracken, to pick up the path again.

I was so pleased with myself that I didn’t even worry too much about the rain that started to fall, even though it was pretty miserable. Thankfully I did at least already have my waterproof on, I just forgot to put my waterproof rucksack cover on and my bag got soaked! The path, although slightly covered with bracken, was fairly clear from this point and it was a pretty walk towards Latheronwheel. There was a lovely view of the tiny harbour and the path dropped down towards it over an old stone bridge, before climbing up the other side into the village. The path branched off back to the cliff tops but I was staying in a B&B run by Ken’s nephew right at the top of the village, half a mile further up. It felt like a long half mile after a tiring day, in the rain, as the light was just beginning to fade, and I was pleased to finally arrive, somewhat later than I had expected!

I feel incredibly tired considering I’ve only walked ten miles today. The elevation gain is pretty impressive for that distance though which goes some way to explaining that, on top of the heavy undergrowth. It’s amazing what a cup of tea, a biscuit and a nice hot shower can do though! And I had a lovely dinner with Ken at the Bay Owl, the only restaurant in Dunbeath (felt strange, to be driven back to Dunbeath in a matter of minutes having spent two hours walking from there!), so I think I’m going to sleep pretty well tonight.

Tomorrow I’m merging two stages (the first of which actually started in Dunbeath) so it’s a slightly longer day at around 12.5 miles but hopefully slightly less scrub bashing on the way! It’s going to be a wet one underfoot, judging by the rain I can hear on my window right now…!

Total miles: 16.2
Elevation gain: 931 ft
Time walking: 10am – 7pm
Miles to date: 1,323.1

Wow. After 95 days you’d think I would be getting used to everything that comes with long distance walking; the emotions, the aches and pains, the scenery, the joy, the challenges, the pride, the humility, the wonder, the excitement, the routine….but no, every day still hits me in some way, some more than others. Today was a big buffeting wave that rolled over me and somehow embraced and knocked me all at the same time, and I’m almost at a loss for words to describe it! Today’s walk was one of the most beautiful days and also one of the more challenging days and came with a huge mixture of emotions. I know it is one of those days that will stay with me forever.

As all good walking days should start, I had a good breakfast and a really lovely chat with my Airbnb host Caroline (I highly recommend her gorgeous, peaceful little B&B, Sputieburn, in Doll!). Once again, it proved that one of the most incredible things about this journey is the people I meet along it. I left the house in my waterproofs as we were due heavy showers all day but it wasn’t long before I took my jacket off. The showers came, on and off, but they were mostly light and the wind had dropped today so it was mostly warmer. The wind still picked up every now and then and prompted donning of the jacket for warmth (it’s around 12-14 degrees max during the day here now, but the wind strips away several more degrees!).

It was a short walk back down to the beach where I’d left off yesterday, where the pretty Sputie Burn cascades off a mini cliff down to a pool on the beach. A waterfall is always nice, but first thing – it’s a good beginning to a walk! The beach was still and beautiful. Without the wind the sea was flat, and silvery under a sky that hadn’t quite made up its mind, with gentle waves rhythmically lapping the tiny pebbles at the water’s edge. I was immediately filled with a sense of calm. The sound of the waves, the light breeze carrying scents of salt, fresh air, space and possibility, the serene light, all added to a sense of contentment and peace that went deep to my core. It was so beautiful, even right there, that I could feel tears and emotion welling up and the desire to impart even a little bit of this feeling, this sense of being right here right now, to everyone who needed it – present-ness, peace, fulfilment, grounding, alignment, connection – whatever you might call it. It was a feeling that stayed with me most of the day and I know it has some part to play in my future.

It was almost hard to keep walking at first. If it had been a shorter or easier day I might have sat on a rock there and then, and stayed all day! But I knew I had a challenging walk ahead and I did not want to be caught out by the light along a pathless coastline! I thanked myself for booking Orkney – where I’ll have time to sit on endless beaches – and carried on. A lot of the path merges into one in my memory, but the first two or so miles were reasonably straightforward as the path between Golspie and Brora, although not waymarked, is known and used. It was still quiet though, I didn’t see anybody else out, despite it being a Saturday! I wasn’t alone though – at one point I looked more carefully at some of the small rocks just poking out of the sea, swearing that they’d moved, wondering if my mind was playing tricks with me, when one of them disappeared completely, only to reappear again a few metres to the left. Seals! My first up close seals! There they were, just bobbing along in the sea, watching me curiously. Once I’d worked out what they were they were easy to spot – they bob along with their noses pointed up at the sky, then look around, then sometimes take a quick swim. They always look so happy, just floating around! I was thrilled to have seen them, but when I was a bit further along it got more exciting – there were a whole group of seals on the beach! At this point the path ran inside a field so I wasn’t on the beach which I was glad of, it meant I didn’t disturb them too much but also I got closer before they realised I was there as the field dipped out of view for a bit. As I drew nearer they saw me and some eyed me warily, some grunted and “oomfed” their way into the safety of the waves. They move pretty fast, for creatures without arms or legs! They are amusing to watch when they are lolloping their way into the sea. Is that a word?! Lollop? I don’t know, but it suits seals very well!

All this in about two miles. Today was going to be a glorious – if slow – day! I reached the seaside village of Brora which seemed incredibly sleepy for a Saturday but there was a nice little cafe open so I decided to stop for a coffee and some lunch as there was nothing between there and Helmsdale. The ladies in the cafe were so friendly, and even though they see many End-to-Enders they still showed a lovely mixture of admiration, interest and encouragement. The panini and coffee were delicious too, and set me up well for the next section.

The next couple of miles were easy and beautiful, along the edge of a golf course on a path through the sand dunes. The sky was a mixture of colours from grey to white to blue and the colours reflected on the sea. It was incredible to clearly see half the sea blue, half grey. Along the northern coast ahead of me the hills rolled into the sea with the sun and clouds dappling their bracken covered slopes. A light shower passed over me and headed towards the hills, momentarily veiling them in grey, and then, the most beautiful rainbow I have ever seen. It poured out of the clouds and into the sea, colours shimmering vibrantly. It grew brighter over the next few minutes and I kept stopping to watch it and to try to capture its brilliance on photo, expecting it to disappear any moment. It shone there for well over five minutes though, a beacon signalling my onward path!

At the end of the golf course the railway line, a near-constant companion throughout the day (although only about four trains a day I think) drew near to the beach and I had my first burn crossing. It looked narrow and easy. Unfortunately it was just wide enough that it was un-jumpable and just deep enough that potential stepping stones were submerged or dangerously slippery. After a few minutes of trying to figure out how I could get across without taking my boots off, I resigned myself to having my first enforced paddle of the day. I wasn’t bothered about getting my feet wet, it was quite nice actually, but it’s a real palava, taking the gaiters and boots off, rolling up waterproofs and trousers, crossing (literally in two steps) and then drying feet off properly and ensuring no sand is left to irritate my toes then putting everything back on again. It’s a lot of effort to move forward less than a metre!! Boots back on and feet feeling a little refreshed after their chilly paddle, the path crossed into a field on a small rustic stile, with white paint splashes on fence posts marking the way – always reassuring to find waymarkers, even when it’s reasonably obvious where you need to head….keep the sea to your right….! Out of the field the other side and across another small burn – this one small enough to half tiptoe half jump across.

The path then gets incredibly squeezed between the railway and the beach, and with the tide being mostly in there wasn’t much of an option to walk on the sand so it was a bit of boulder hopping along a rocky embankment beside the railway (with a handy fence in between to cling on to where bits got a bit narrow). There were small sections of grass covered bank too and as I walked along these I instinctively stepped over something in my path. I turned around to see what it was and to my amazement saw an adder curled up in the grass, sunbathing. I’ve never seen a live adder before! I didn’t get too close, adders being venomous (not quite your Aussie killers but can still do some harm!), but it was beautiful with its olive and black zigzags. Hard to tell how big as it was folded up in a concertina, but probably no more than two thirds of a metre, and much more slender than I expected. I left it be and headed on, a warm fuzzy feeling at having seen a little bit more of nature’s magic. A little further on was burn crossing number three, this one wider than the other two, a couple of metres from bank to bank. I spent a few moments looking for the best place to cross. The beach end was relatively shallow if I could dodge the incoming waves, with just one slightly deeper section that looked like it would require boots to come off. In the middle it looked like there could be some stones to hop across but the burn was flowing just a little too quickly – I didn’t trust my balance enough and envisioned an unwanted bath. I opted in the end to cross just under the railway bridge, where there was a slight ledge over which the water fell. It looked just about shallow enough to cross with my boots on (yes, I was getting lazy already!), although there was a small scramble down to get to that section. I made it across no problem, but I can tell my boots aren’t as waterproof as they used to be – or the morning’s wet grass had soaked them enough that they were just letting in any old water now – as although no water went over the top of my boots I still ended up with one slightly wet foot. In hindsight I probably should have just climbed up into the small railway bridge as I don’t think there was another train for ages, but somehow I preferred to face the water than a train!

The next section of path went through (thankfully cow-free) fields and was fairly easy to follow, with another rainbow showing me the way, this time a full arch right over the path ahead! When the path dropped back more or less to the beach I noticed movement in the flat sea beside me. I watched for a while, and a head popped out of the water, looking at me curiously. The seal dove under again, emerging a little closer this time, and then I noticed two others a little further away. They swam closer, inquisitive, and I watched them for a while before heading on along just above the beach. They swam along with me for a while, following me along the coast, and it felt nice to feel like I had a little bit of company! The path ventured up some bracken covered rough ground for a short while but although overgrown there were definite signs of a path which was promising – the trail is obviously being used at points by someone! Along here I saw yet another incredible rainbow, the best one yet, full, bright and a double, pouring into the sea. They are magical things, rainbows!

The day had gone well so far and I was coping well with the “rough” path. Then I reached Loth Burn! Yikes. The developers of the trail stress heavily that the trail is mostly unfinished and challenging in many parts, with a rating given to each section (red/amber/green) giving an overview of just how challenging/unfinished it is. This section is currently marked amber, and I think it’s probably all down to Loth Burn! I followed the instructions in the guide through fairly well beaten down vegetation to the edge of the burn just beneath the tall bridge over which the railway runs. My heart sank. The burn was wide – about 4 metres – and was flowing fast and deep. The guide suggested wading using a weir as a handrail and I could see the paint splash markers on the other side, but that river did not look remotely safe to even try to cross. I looked back at the guidebook, confused. It did say that it was the second biggest river crossing on the whole trail, and it had an alternative crossing suggestion at the beach, so I decided to try there. It was wider at the beach which meant the current looked much less fierce, and it wasn’t so deep. At least the bottom was a bit more obvious! It was cross here or retrace my steps and find an alternative…which definitely wasn’t ideal as the road had veered away from the coast a mile or so back. I looked at the river again and decided that it would be cold, but safe, as long as I took it steady. So it was boots off again, rolling my trousers etc to above my knees, getting the walking poles out and into the water I went. Brrr! It was chilly and quickly went calf deep, and it was uncomfortable and slow going on the pebbly bottom, but the flow wasn’t too strong and as long as I went steadily it was ok. There was a deeper section two thirds of the way across where the water went over my knees up to mid thigh, soaking the bottom of my rolled up trousers. I had to take a deep breath and remind myself to go slow – wet trousers were better than a full dunking! My patience paid off and I made it safely to the other side, where I rested (and recovered my nerves!) on a rock while rewarding myself with chocolate and jelly babies while my feet dried off a little in the faint sunlight. I’d made it! The river crossing had certainly made this section a little more intrepid though, and it took me a while to get back into the happy place I’d been in earlier on in the day, not to mention a little while for my feet and ankles to warm back up again! Brrr that water was fresh! I’d changed into my waterproof socks though, which were nice and cosy after my somewhat damp other socks.

[Edit: I spoke to the trail developer about Loth Burn and showed him some pictures of that river and a couple of the others. He said he’s never seen them that high before! Which explains why it has usually been relatively safe to cross Loth Burn beneath the bridge. They are currently trying to get a contractor to look at the crossing and provide a quote for a bridge, so hopefully the crossing will be much easier for future walkers!].

Thankfully the path took an easier route again after the river crossing, up into a sprawling, peaceful (and slightly eerie!) caravan park at Crackaig. It looked like people either left their caravans there or you hire a permanently-placed caravan. They were dotted along on top of the cliffs, with stunning views! You can camp there too. It was practically deserted, which I think is why it felt a tad eerie. It made for pleasantly easy walking on grass tracks for a mile or so though, which was nice but not fully appreciated until I came to the next section – a couple of miles pushing through long grass in sand dunes with little more than intermittent sheep tracks to follow. At least I knew what general direction I had to head! It was hard work but not unpleasant walking, with more deserted beaches and more seals. I didn’t spot this bunch until they saw me and noisily made for the water, from the safety of which they turned to watch me warily. There were at least twenty, possibly thirty there, all shapes and sizes (I’m assuming a mix of common and grey seals), and some of this year’s pups.

The last kilometre or so was a mixture of scrambles along narrow rocky escarpments and walking along the beach or sections of grass above, picking my way through on an increasingly well defined path. The sun had turned into that gorgeous golden late afternoon colour and bathed the sand and the rocks in a warm glow, silhouetting the coastline behind me and creating colours in the clouds on the horizon that reflected onto the sea. Once again I could have sat on the beach for ages, watching the colours change, but I was conscious I had a couple of miles to go before I reached Helmsdale and I definitely didn’t want to be caught on the coast path as dusk fell! Thankfully the path leaves the coast for the final stretch of the day, cutting across the railway at a level crossing and heading up a good track into the little village of Portgower. From there it follows a track inland and uphill to cross a burn then takes a back lane through Gartymore to drop down much closer to Helmsdale, crossing the bridge over the Helmsdale River with the A9. Daylight was fading as I walked through Gartymore and the lights in the town and around the harbour down below looked incredibly inviting! It started to drizzle as I headed down the hill and I was definitely ready for a cup of tea and a good sit down!

I am staying in a beautiful old house which is an Airbnb but I have the house to myself which is a treat. After the obligatory cup of tea I headed back out into the tiny town to find the one food shop, a Spar. This shop was amazing, it sold everything! I passed a couple of pubs and restaurants on the way and part of me was sorely tempted to duck in for some food but I also was very keen on the idea of having a hot shower, cooking myself something simple and healthy and curling up for an early night! I just about had enough brain power left to buy some sensible food for the next few days while I was there, without buying toooo many cakes and other such sweet treats…!

Today has been epic. I’m so grateful the weather was good as it would have been a lot tougher in the rain. The photos, while amazing, don’t really do it justice! I’m loving this trail. I didn’t realise quite how spectacular it would be. And river crossing aside, it hasn’t been all that bad. It gets less easy from here though, with most days except the last couple marked as amber or red. Tomorrow (a rest day, yay, my final one!) I’m meeting Jay Wilson, the trail developer, to pick his brains about the onward route. Watch this space…!

[For more photos from today, visit my Facebook page: @jlemarinel.lejog]

Total miles: 11.8
Elevation gain: 327 ft
Time walking: 12pm – 5pm
Miles to date: 1,290.4

Oh what a delightfully short and easy day! It felt like a real treat, if a little strange, to be able to slow down today and not rush or feel overly tired. Definitely a good thing, after the last week. My hips and gluts were really tight and aching during the night which, combined with the cold and the rain, woke me up several times. I still seem to not feel too bad once I’m up and moving though, it just seems to take a little longer each day to ease my muscles and joints back into action!

The morning was dry and semi-sunny so I made the most of it by having a leisurely breakfast while the tent dried out a bit after the rain. Then I met Jay, who is the guy who is heading the development of the John O’Groats Trail and gave me the draft guidebook to trial. He lives further north but was driving south and had a few more pages of the maps to give me. It was great to actually meet him after exchanging several messages and emails and he gave me some more tips about various sections of the trail further north.

I finally headed off about midday, just as it started to rain, and was pretty much straight onto the long Dornoch Firth Bridge. The A9 wasn’t as busy as I’d expected but it was windy and there was lots of spray from the rain (which stopped when I got on the bridge thankfully), both worse when tall lorries barrelled by. I was glad of the very secure barrier/fence as occasionally the wind would nearly push me into it! Halfway across the bridge my rib started to hurt again and I sighed. Each day when I start out it is fine, and I have a brief glimmer of hope that it has magically got better overnight. Then a mile or two in the pain hits with a vengeance, and continues on and off for the rest of the day. The first few pangs always seem to be the worst, throughout the day the pain eases slightly (or maybe I get more used to it?). I try to breathe through the worst of it, which isn’t easy as it hurts more when I breathe…! Ah well, only a week and a bit left now…

Reaching the end of the bridge took my mind off the pain for a while as I had to step over the barrier, climb down a grassy embankment and then climb a fence, to join a track which ran at the water’s edge. Definitely worth the slight scramble, suddenly the road was a distant memory and the calm of the shining water, ruffled by occasional gusts of wind, breaking around the rocks and seaweed at the shore, had an instant calming effect. The sun came out and it was perfect! I suddenly had a huge sense of happiness and gratitude, and realised I was looking forward to the next week or so, walking along the coast. How lucky am I, to be out here, up here, doing this?!

The track wound inland slightly after a bit and then headed into fields. All fine, until I spy in the field ahead two very large looking black cows with massive horns. They were possibly bulls, I’m not sure (due to the fact they were right at the other end of the field…not a lack of basic bovine anatomy knowledge!) but they were not your average cow…they looked something like a cross between a Highland cow and a buffalo. Whatever they were, I wasn’t convinced they would let me through the field without showing some sort of unwanted interest in me so I scouted out another route. Thankfully there was a semi-decent path the other side of the fence (maybe lots of other people also didn’t fancy their chances against the horned buffalo cows) so I did a bit of fence scaling and took the slightly less daunting route.

One more field, this one with good old sheep, and I was back to the safety of the road, this time a nice quiet back lane, and then into the pretty Camore Wood. Loads of funky mushrooms and toadstools in this wood! Big ones, small ones, bright ones, spotted ones. There were some flat-topped creamy brown mushrooms that looked just like creme brûlées! Sometimes I wish I knew more about mushrooms, but I’m not sure I’d actually ever dare to forage for them. Just too many deadly lookalikes! The wood was over far too quickly and it was back to the edge of a field and then a mile of pavement into the pretty little town of Dornoch.

I stopped for a few cereal bars and snacks (and bananas, yay!) in a gorgeous little shop-come-deli that seemed to sell everything, then headed down past the old castle and beautiful 13th century cathedral to a little cafe in a shop-come-gallery. I had plenty of time so I had a nice rest there, enjoying lunch and one of the most delicious banoffee pies I have ever had! After two cups of coffee I figured I probably should make a move, especially when they started to prepare to close!

The sun was out again and I had a nice walk through the remainder of the town and out towards the golf course. This was on a slight hill so there were lovely views back across the Firth and out to Tain and beyond, and then as I rounded the corner the sea was there and I was properly on the coast! It was beautiful. Classic golden late afternoon sun bouncing off the sand, the sea, the rocks; patches of blue sky reflected in rock pools, dark rain clouds and black rocks contrasting with silvery water and the white froth of breaking waves. From time to time a rainbow would appear out to sea, and the light breeze brought the delightful taste of salty air. An instant feeling of contentment came over me. I love the sea. I always forget how much, until I’m by it again! I was suddenly really glad that I’d decided to head to Orkney when I finish, up until now I still wasn’t entirely sure if it was the right idea. But the instant I saw the coast I knew that a few days by the sea just relaxing, walking along the beach, watching the waves, would be just what I needed.

The last bit of the day followed the path between the golf course and the sea for a couple of miles, the weather constantly changing from sun to cloud to rain, which made for beautiful, ever-changing scenery. Soon I could see my destination ahead, the holiday resort/camping and touring ground at Embo, right on the coast. As I neared, and passed, all the static caravans I wondered whether I’d chosen the right place, it was very “resort-y”, but when I had checked in and went down to the non-electric tent pitches I was definitely happy. I’m on a little section just in front of the sea (far enough away that there’s no chance of getting wet!), away from all the cars and caravans. I think I have the best view of the whole site! And I’m the only tent here. It’s my own little patch of heaven, I can see the sea from my tent and I can hear the waves rolling up onto the beach and crashing on the rocks. Tonight, when I came back from the restaurant (where I had dessert again…talk about sugar overload today!), the full harvest moon was up and its reflection was shining like silver on the sea. I stood gazing at it for ages, watching the lighthouse far away steadily mark time with light, the silhouette of the rocks and the waves that broke on them. I could have stayed watching that beautiful scene all night, but even wrapped up in multiple layers it soon grew chilly and I retired to my tent. It’s very peaceful, listening the waves and the gentle breeze. It’s nice too, to feel both away from the crowds but not too far from civilisation. There is something comforting about knowing there are people nearby!

Tomorrow is a little longer but nothing like previous days. I’m looking forward to it, it’s pretty much all along the coast or around Loch Fleet, and I go through the little town of Golspie and past the huge Dunrobin Castle which I can see from here. Maybe I’ll even catch a sunrise in the morning…

Total miles: 21.2
Elevation gain: 1,524 ft
Time walking: 9:15am – 6:30pm
Miles to date: 1,278.6

Another long day! Five of the last six walking days have been 21 miles. No wonder my legs and feet ache! I’m actually amazed at how I’ve managed to do that, I guess it is a sign of my fitness – before this trip I had only ever walked more that 20 miles twice, and never carrying so much weight. Now I’ve had over ten days that were longer than 20 miles, five of which were this past week. Crazy!

Today was a nice walk, far away from the busy A9 for which I am so grateful. It was a walk of two halves, the first half mostly on quiet roads or cycle tracks, the last half on forestry tracks and paths through beautiful forest. The weather was once again variable, ranging from lovely warm sunshine to bitter cold winds and squally rain. It was therefore a bit of an on/off with the waterproofs day, but it also meant I saw some beautiful rainbows!

The day started on the cycle track out of Evanton, which although tarmac was mostly set back from the road and ran through pretty trees. There was a rather long and dull stretch into Alness along a fairly busy road but there was a pavement at least and some views out to Cromarty Firth. I popped into the leisure centre/library on the edge of town to use the loo and then had a quick break on a bench by a children’s playground, wondering whether people might mistake my for a homeless person! Alness has a few shops but I resisted the urge to buy more food and weigh my bag down more, knowing that tomorrow I’d go through Dornoch and there were a few other small towns over the next few days. Every time I pass a shop though I feel like I should stock up, as I really feel like I am starting to head into the middle of nowhere! But people still live up here, as way up north as it is. There are some beautiful, but incredibly remote, houses up here. I don’t think I could do it!

Out of Alness the route follows a quiet country road for several miles. It was pretty scenery but tough on the feet, pounding along all those miles. I gave a bit of a cheer when the route diverted into a pretty wood. Suddenly to be fully back in nature, on a winding narrow path, surrounded by trees, ferns and heather, was really lovely, and it was a pleasant mile or so. Even some squelchy bits! At one point along a wider track a large tree had fallen across the path and as it was currently sunny and I was about halfway I decided to stop for some lunch. I used the tree as a drying rack for my tent, which had been wrapped up soaking wet in my bag for the last three days. Sooo nice to get it dry! It’s unpleasant enough carrying a wet tent around – it’s heavy and starts to make everything else damp – but climbing into a wet smelly tent on a cold evening is even more horrible!

Getting going again after the extended break was a bit of a challenge, it took a while to warm up my muscles and joints once more, but it was good to have had the break. As I rejoined the road it started to spit with rain again but I was fed up of putting waterproofs on only for the rain to stop 5 minutes later so I tried to cover my head and the top of bag with my bright green rucksack cover. I’m not sure the look will take off….I resembled something like a giant lime green walking shower cap! Still, I managed without the waterproofs for that shower at least!

At Scotsburn the path finally left the road and headed up into woods, the first major uphill of the day (still not massive, but it got the heart pumping!) and some proper mud to negotiate. The forests around here are very pretty. They are still conifer forests but they are much lighter than those further south. There’s plenty of space between the trees for light to reach the forest floor which is a rich carpet of ferns, moss, heather and smaller trees. Once back on flatter ground the path gradually widened out into a gravelled forest track which somehow seemed more pleasant than some of the tracks I’d followed recently, I think just because the forests were more open. It helped that at this precise moment in time the sun was shining and it was a lovely autumnal afternoon. Occasionally the trees would open out and there were some super views back over the Cromarty Firth.

15 miles in and I was running low on water but I found a handy stream where there was a lovely wooden shelter so I stopped for a water refill and a quick break, pleased to shelter out of a brief patch of drizzle. It was uphill again from here but I saw a few other people which made a nice change, mainly runners and mountain bikers. I passed “A Dog’s Grave”, famous enough to be signposted, dating back to 1928! The grave read “Geordie, faithful friend and constant companion for 11 years of John Dewar. Killed by a road hog near Perth, 9th Aug 1928. Served with the 3rd Bat. The Cameronians 1917-1918”.

The path left the main track and led through more pretty woodland and felled forest, getting quite boggy in places (a nice change after days of firm forest tracks and roads), lonely but beautiful. This was Morangie Forest, it took me a while to figure out why that sounded familiar…think Glen Morangie whiskey! At a loch flanked by pine forest and tall breezy grass the scene was so Canadian I half expected to see a bear or moose lazily wander out of the trees to take a drink. Ahead the view opened out to the sea and as the path started to descend around a bend I had a glorious teaser of the coastline I’d be following in the days to come.

My feet and legs were really starting to feel it by this point and I was glad when the path finally dropped down to a track which would lead me pretty much to my campsite. It was 6pm already, later than I had expected given the good time I’d made earlier in the day. I guess there were a few more hills and it was a bit further than I’d thought, plus as I really should know by now, the second half is always slower as I get tired! Despite feeling rather pleased at my rapid progress over the last few days, I’m even more pleased to realise that today should mark the end of the long days. I slow down from here, with my longest day being in the region of 15 miles, with a couple of days as short as 8 miles. I won’t know what to do with myself!

I have to be more careful with evenings now though, the sun sets before 7pm these days and if it’s a rainy day the light goes really quickly! Still, I was at the campsite by 6:30pm which wasn’t too bad and I had the choice of pitches as I was the only tent there! The only downside was that the map had indicated there was a pub by the roundabout just by the campsite…sadly it turned out to be a Jehovas Witness Hall…not quite the same thing! Strange, for the OS maps to get that wrong?! Ah well, it was dehydrated chicken curry for dinner for me (actually really tasty!) huddled up in multiple layers as it is COLD tonight! I made the most of the benches and light though and stayed outside for quite a while…evenings are quite long and uncomfortable when they are spent sitting huddled in a small tent for the few hours before bedtime! I went through several cups of tea and a hot chocolate before eventually I got too cold to stay out, retiring to my sleeping bag wearing thermals, socks and warm hat, pulling every drawstring on my sleeping bag and its hood close. It’s a chilly one tonight!

After 5 pretty big days it was time to make the most of the last major bit of civilisation to rest, restock supplies, see an osteopath and do some major planning!
I now have the (draft) guidebook for this final leg, it’s a bit daunting though as it’s a new trail which is incredibly rough in places (think no path, overgrown undergrowth, fields with no stiles, burns with no bridges etc) so need to pick and choose a bit. And winging it a bit with accommodation…need to book some in advance otherwise at this rate I’ll be wild camping every night…!

In other exciting news, I’ve spent part of today planning my gradual return to civilisation…starting by getting even more remote and taking a trip to Orkney for a few days! Then I’ll be making my way back over a few days, by overnight ferry, multiple trains, probably a few buses and hopefully a visit to a friend or two on the way back down!

Back on the trail again tomorrow, mixed feelings about it – part of me just wants it done, part of me never wants it to end!