It was a lousy night. By morning the rain had ceased but the wind was howling down the glen; we had been camped in a wind tunnel. I was up and out quite quickly, said my goodbyes to the other two who were not quite as eager to leave as me, and hit the track at about 7.30.
After a little while I turned out of the wind, which was something of a relief, and began to amble down, past Loch Lee. The only hazard here were the cars that suddenly appeared from nowhere, ferrying children to school further down the Glen. In good weather Glen Lee must be quite attractive. High hills were all around, but ahead you could see that the landscape was flattening out. Local farmers had asked Challengers not to camp at the side of the Loch as they used it for night time fishing. Along the side of the Loch were small boat houses, something I'd not seen anywhere else on this trip.
Loch Lee
I was soon at the little village at the end of the Loch. The sun began to shine. I passed signs for the House of Mark, which apparently is a stupendous B&B. I was still very tired but well ahead of schedule. I decided to camp - very early - at Tarfside, the little village that lay a few miles further on. At the main road I took a track to Tarfside which skirts a monument on a hill and avoids the main road. A farmer who was installing an electric fence greeted me warmly. "You're nearly there", he grinned. At this point I pulled-up sharply. I seemed to have pulled a muscle in my foot. As a walked on it began to get more and more painful. Soon I was hobbling up the slope of the monument hill, at a snail's pace.
Having come all this way without any problems I was quite depressed by it all. And then, to make things worse, I heard the well-known sound of trekking poles on rock. I looked behind me. Coming at me like a train were the Towers twins, both in their seventies. It was one thing being burned up by Super Legend, but by two septuagenarians! My ego was taking a battering.
David Towers was on to me in no time at all. I was rather relived to find that they'd only been walking for a couple of minutes, and with no packs! They'd stopped the night before at the House of Mark, quite exhausted, and had got one of their wives to come from Tarfside and fetch them. This morning they'd been dropped off back at the House in order to be able to walk the full distance.
The twins' wives, Elizabeth and Janet, are volunteers who run the St.Drostan's Hostel that the Challenge takes over for four days each year - there being little between here and Edzell. I explained my hobbling to David. He insisted that I stopped at the hostel. I must stay there he said. At this time in the morning there would be no problem getting a room.
St. Drostan's Hostel, Tarfside; Tarfside camping area
The Tarfside hostel was a revelation. St Drostan's is owned by a church community and is incredibly comfortable. Elizabeth and Janet greet every Challenger with an invitation to have a hot drink and a bacon buttie. How welcome that was! I bagged the first room of the day, not a dormitory room but a single room - all for £9 a night!
I hung around the kitchen for a while and then went and dozed in my room. This was amazing. For rest of the day I hung around to meet Challengers who appeared in the village,many of whom I felt I knew quite well now. I had the luxury of doing my washing and drying it all on a warm radiator. Elizabeth and Janet were soon joined by Pauline Marshall - and McGregor - who'd left Challenge Control to give them a hand. Super Legend was coming this way.
Soon Maurice and Ant appeared and a little later Julian which was nice to see. The afternoon was spent chatting and catching up with Challenge stories and gossip. Two Challengers had come across a body in a survival bag, high on snow bound hills, and had been delayed by the police. Another Challenger had fallen badly on mountain and had to be slowly accompanied down by some worried friends. John and David Towers had been separated at the River Dee: one of them could cross and the other couldn't (I know I wouldn't have liked to have done it). One walked to the Linn of Dee on one side and the other on the opposite bank, Earlier, John had somehow managed to set fire, not only to some of his gear, but also to a whole hillside!
Tarfside was a great experience but it did feel as if the Challenge was over. My route from here meant crossing northwards towards Char bothy and then walking through the Fettereso Forest to Stonehaven. But I decided not to push the injured foot any more than I needed to and I phoned Challenge Control and changed my route to end of St. Cyrus, after a gentle couple of days meandering through the lower lands. I would end up at Montrose a day early - but I quite fancied that now.
In the evening Janet, Elizabeth and Pauline organised soup and baked potato meals for everyone. Residents of the hostel were at the first sitting and I was able to catch up with Julian's detailed description of the Shiel bothy. There must have been another three sittings as those in the campsite flooded in to sample the hospitality. After eating as many of us as could cram into the lounge area sat together while Super Legend entertained us with stories of his Challenges over the last twenty years. SL and Pauline are lovely people. The Challenge is a big part of their lives and they are generous enough to want to contribute a hell of a lot back to newcomers like myself.
I turned in reasonably early; others left to hang around the mysterious Masons' house where they are suddenly invited in to find an un-marked bar - as it where.
I lay there on my bed, warm in my bag, reflecting on the particular magic of Tarfside. In truth I'd not enjoyed the walking much after Braemar. But I'd really enjoyed the Challenge experience, the people I'd walked with and the people I'd re-met at Tarfside. It was only now that I realised just how many lovely people I'd met along the way. Suddenly, it wasn't a question of why would I ever want to do this again; it was a case of which way would be better next time. Pauline had warned me that this thing becomes quite addictive.