breaking its back – 4 oct, 2018
Day 55 Land’s End to John O’Groats – Kinlochleven to Fort William
Distance: 24km
Cumulative distance: 1404km
Here’s a wet-weather tip for you all. The best thing for a pair of sodden boots is newspaper. Go and buy yourself a tabloid rag, and scrunch up all the pages into little balls before stuffing them into your hiking boots. Once the first boot is full, repeat the process. Stick your boots somewhere dry, give it 12 hours and then remove the newspaper. Those little balls of tabloid nonsense will have absorbed the moisture and your boots will be dry on the inside. I learned that off Chas in Iceland, and it’s stayed with me ever since because it’s such an effective method. And dry feet can be incredibly morale boosting, especially after walking through days of unrelenting rain.
I had two newspapers in hand when I ran into David and Iain at the shop last night, and I’m happy to report those tabloids allowed me to depart this morning with dry boots. I needed them too, given there was an unexpected climb out of Kinlochleven which I reckon was every bit as tough as yesterday’s Devil’s Staircase. I should’ve known it was coming given Kinlochleven is situated in a valley surrounded by hills on every side. The climb was worth it though – it presented magnificent views back towards the mountain pass we’d all walked over yesterday, and to the path ahead which was laid out for miles in front of us. I couldn’t see Ben Nevis yet, but was very much looking forward to its hulking figure emerging from the mist. Until then though it was a case of marching forward, navigating the little river crossings which varied in difficulty and trying to chew up those miles. I could almost taste the pints that were waiting at Wetherspoons, and I estimated at current pace I would arrive there for about 2.30pm in the afternoon. The path eventually wound around to the right, and soon after that a massive mountain loomed ahead in the distance – the UK’s highest. I couldn’t see the peak of Ben Nevis but I had a view of its upper slopes and it looked absolutely magnificent.
Now, allow me to go back a couple of years to the time I climbed Ben Nevis. I was with Stephen and his brother Chris, Chris’s wife Laura and her pal Sam, plus Elliott and Charlotte. We’d been camping for almost a week on the Isle Of Skye, and had arrived in Fort William the day before to climb the mountain. Not too keen on paying for a campsite, we drove out of town late one night and pitched up in a slightly boggy lay by beside the road close to the Fort William visitors’ car park. Elliott and Charlotte were in one tent and Steve, Sam and myself in the other while Chris and Laura slept in their van. It was the middle of summer, the nights were long and the weather had been brilliant, which is why I was slightly surprised at about 4.30am when I woke up to the sound of heavy rain pounding the tent. I opened my eyes and noticed the sun was already blazing outside. Hmmm, this wasn’t making too much sense. Moments later I heard Laura scream.
Cue mayhem, a lot of shouting from Laura and Chris, and then Laura screaming to us all that we had to go. Suddenly it clicked. That wasn’t rain, it was a swarm of midgies! Sam was first to go…she wrapped herself up entirely in her sleeping bag and made a run for it. Steve and I then packed everything away from the inside so the tent was empty, then jumped out ourselves. I’d never seen anything like it, there was just an endless black cloud of the little buggers. For those who have never been to Scotland, midgies are a little like mosquitoes except they sting when they bite you and they’re more than happy to go for your face. Steve and I tried desperately to pack down the tent, but I could only bend down for five seconds at a time to un-peg the thing before I had to stand up and swat the midgies away from my face and throat. I looked down at my hand at one stage and thought I was wearing a black glove. There wasn’t a square millimetre of skin showing anywhere.
We eventually packed that tent down and sprinted to the van as Chris hit the accelerator and drove down to the car park. There were still midgies in the air down here but nowhere near as many as the improvised camp site. We waited until 6am at which point the public toilets opened and we could go and check the damage. Poor old Charlotte had the things everywhere, in her eyes, down her throat. Sam’s face had been mercifully chewed while I had bites almost everywhere, some scars of which still remain on my forearms today. The upshot was we had Ben Nevis almost all to ourselves when we walked up and the views up the top were absolutely stunning.
The memories came flooding back as I walked towards the mountain today. It still held a place in my heart, despite the midge episode. It also meant I had no need to climb it once I made it to Fort William, so I could relax on my day off. I walked by a few farms and pulled off to the side for a spot of lunch. Moments later the heavens opened for the first and only time that day and I got rained on for five minutes while I tried to spread nutella on my wraps. I may or may not have sworn into the breeze a few times before packing up and pressing on. There was some forestry land to navigate and then eventually I popped out on top of a large hill with a winding road before me that took me all the way down to the base of Ben Nevis. From there I walked through one more little bit of forest and then it was a few kilometres of road walking into Fort William and down to the Wetherspoons.
Fort William is an interesting little town, and a tremendous base for exploring the Scottish Highlands. It’s popular with hikers, climbers, mountain bikers and watersports enthusiasts. It hosts a round of the Mountain Bike World Cup each year and during the summer months is full of people. There are countless pubs along its main street and right at the end, just before the finishing line of the West Highland Way, is the Wetherspoons. I arrived at bang on 2.30pm and walked in looking for David and Iain, but didn’t see them anywhere. I dropped my bag over in the corner and went to order myself some fish and chips and a pint. Just as I was lining up, David and Iain walked in and we all congratulated each other on finishing. I grabbed my pint and walked over to my table before they came along and joined me. After a couple of sips I looked up and noticed the two lads from Fife had already finished their pints. Moments later Iain had been to the bar and returned with another pint for each of us, so I made quick work of my first one and started on the second. Not even 10 minutes later another round of pints had arrived. David has the Wetherspoons app on his phone, which means you can place an order without needing to leave the comfort of your chair. Once again I was severely double parked and my shout was looming, so I picked up the pace. As we neared the end of the third pint I moved to go up to the bar, at which point Iain said:
“Nah don’t worry about it, you’re doing what you’re doing, you don’t have to buy us any beers.”
A couple of minutes later he was back with three more pints and we were well on our way. These two legends wouldn’t even entertain the idea of me buying them a single drink. They were thoroughly good craic too, absolutely ripping blokes to have a few beers with. Iain is a retired fireman and an ex-rugby referee while David still works and travels the globe for long stretches of the year. We chatted about all things Scotland and hiking and carved ourselves out quite a groove in that Wetherspoons. Rhonda and Amanda from Minnesota sat with us for about half an hour chatting away before they took off to do a bit of shopping for their families. At one stage I asked where the actual finish line of the WHW was and Iain told me it was just outside the pub entrance and about 10 metres up the road. That meant I hadn’t technically finished! I jumped up, grabbed my pack and went and put in the final few strides. We cheersed again as I rejoined the table just as another round of beers arrived thanks to David’s Wetherspoons app. At about 6pm I excused myself for an hour, knowing I’d better check into my hostel before I was too much of a fumbling, bumbling mess (to be fair I wasn’t far off that stage already). We agreed to meet back at the Wetherspoons a bit later on and continue with the pints. This was going to be one hell of a night…
