Day 4: Fort William to Garva Bridge

A lovely morning. Sun bathed the campsite, boosting morale and cheering Challengers. There was almost a party atmosphere floating over the site. A good time to record some podcast interviews. Most of the Challengers were heading over the Corriarick Pass although Jonathan Smith had a different route and Rick and his mate from New Zealand were having an early rest day, having arrived a day early from Mallaig, as I had done last year.

The Corriarick Pass is one of the 'funnels' that Challengers have to pass through in order to reach the Central Highlands. It has something of a fearsome reputation although, in reality, it is not that difficult. It is a long haul up to the top of the pass, but the gradient is not too extreme and the trick is to just settle into a comfortable, slow, climbing pace, and then to just grind out the distance.

Climbing up the pass

Early on the weather was far more pleasant than last year when Malcolm Griffiths and I had hurtled up the pass through dire weather. This year there was time to look around; the lower levels are far more picturesque than I had remembered. We took a short break at Blackburn Bothy - another comfortable building - and took shelter from a hail storm; the weather was turning. As we picked our way from the bothy to rejoin the pass path we began to meet Challengers that we had met the day before. The two Ians and Johnny were climbing upwards - although not in one group, and Christine and Margaret were also on the road. Margaret was clearly still having problems with her back and yet she continued to climb, slowly but surely. She was worried that she might not be able to complete the day. I was sure that she would finish the day's walk, although she wouldn't finish walking until late. I could only admire the dogged, determinism that kept Margaret struggling on.

Later we stopped for lunch, near the little bridge that heralds the beginning the the final, and steeper, push for the top of the pass. As we sheltered behind a small hill from the wind, two walkers appeared from nowhere - as if by magic. They introduced themselves as Roger and Sally. Dodwell, I asked. How do you know that? I thought I'd just remembered the name from the list. I revealed my own identity and all was revealed. I had 'published' Roger's account of the 2006 Challenge, on the web, a few months before. A lovely couple Roger and Sally, and very, very amusing company.

Roger and Sally Dodwell

The top of the pass is pretty grim and featureless, adorned with a few unappealing huts that I imagine must be connected to the power cables. We met Peter and Ursula sheltering, from the wind, behind one.

It is tempting to congratulate yourselves when you reach the top of the pass. But don't. The worst is yet to come.

Immediately you start your descent you're aware of the dramatic erosion of the path on this side of the pass. Walking is pretty difficult. Huge, loose stones make this something like crossing a boulder field. I was shocked by the amount of erosion that had seemed to occur since last year. A stream looked as if it had permanently re-routed itself along the path, with devastating results. At one point the stream had gouged out a waterfall, in the main path, that must have been three or four feet deep.

Walkers have coped with this state of affairs by simply cutting off the corners of the road and cutting new paths through boggy, grassland. But this just compounds the sense of a big, big mess. Sadly, the original surface (and foundations) of Wade's Road have been revealed; you can easily appreciate just what a feat of engineering this was when it was first constructed. The Pass is now designated as a National Monument, but it is impossible to imagine how it could be restored. Restoration would cost a fortune.

The descent is hard. Kate's knees began to complain and she was clearly in pain. Just to add to the agony, the weather continued to worsen. The rain was driven by a bitterly cold wind blowing in from a West-ish direction. We leap frogged other Challengers (and they leap frogged us) all the way down, with everyone complaining bitterly about the state of the path. At this point I was wearing four layers: a base; a micro fleece mid layer; a windshirt; and a waterproof jacket. If I'd had another layer to hand that would have been on as well.

Eventually, and with Kate still in pain, we hauled ourselves into the Melgarve Bothy, to join a steadily growing band of Challengers. The bothy is comfortable and there is plenty of wood around. Unusually for us we brewed up some warm tea, tea having mystical qualities that seem to alleviate all walking-related aches and pains. Some were planning to stay the night in the bothy. Others were thinking of making camp outside. We decided to head on down to Garva Bridge in the hope that we may have been able to get out of some of the worst of the wind.

We pitched at Garva Bridge - on the grassy bank on the far side - in torrential rain. I remember it was just like this last year. Warm food and drink revived us a little. Surely, the weather here could be nice? Difficult to imagine, though, that.