I awoke to the worst of weather forecasts. Over the next few days the UK was going to experiencing very high winds, the kind that we seldom experienced. I'd already decided to walk through Glen Feshie rather than the Lairig Ghru but this was disappointing news; I'd hoped to climb some of the tops on this stretch of walk. I thought I'd wait and see how the weather turned out but was conscious that I was walking alone. I'd be happy to stay low; the tops could always wait for another day when I could tackle them with a day-sack.
Predictably, I was the only resident for breakfast - great for me as breakfast was so good. I was surprised by how much I ate. I liberated several of those little tubs of jam (to make the porridge better) and some of those silly tubes of nescafe.
Leaving Kingussie in warm sunshine!
Outside the weather was superb. I smothered myself with sun tan lotion, strapped the jacket to the back of the pack and enjoyed a fabulous couple of hours walking in my T Shirt base-layer. After a short walk on the road I cut off through the bottom end of the Inshriach Forest and onto Glen Feshie. While taking a rest in the trees I came across Colin, another Challenger. We both quickly ascertained that we were solo walkers who liked company occasionally but liked to walk alone. Over the next coupe of days we bumped into each other quite a bit, walked together for five or ten minutes quite happily before one or other of us moved on. I'd enjoyed walking with Malcolm, but it was good to be striding out through the forest alone, the warm sun flickering through the foliage and the tracks clear enough to banish any worries about route-finding.
As I joined the Glen Feshie track I was somewhat annoyed to find that it meant more tarmac walking. One of the problems with this walk is that, understandably, a number of tracks have now been tarmaced over. There was nothing else for it but to stride off, down towards the lodge buildings, before crossing over the Feshie at a solid bridge. After ten minutes or so I came to the Ruighaiteachain bothy, a small building idyllically situated on the open, grassy banks of the river. Colin was inside having a snoop around. I found as nice, grassy spot a few hundred years away, closer to the waterside and noticed Colin doing something similar nearer the bothy. The weather was closing in but it was still a reasonable afternoon. I saw my first early-season midges; they flew around a bit but left me alone - the Mosi Guard was clearly working.
Glen Feshie
As I lay there in my sleeping bag I wrote my journal, in which I reflected on the Challengers that I had met so far. There seemed to be three types. There were those who were truly solitary, staying high for days before coming down for a re-supply and a little human company. There were others for whom the social side of the crossing was of great importance. Malcolm had reflected that they were like a group who go on holiday to the same hotel, during the same weeks,every year; here they met their mates, great friends who they wouldn't meet for another twelve months. And then there was the final group, like Malcolm and myself, who enjoyed the company in small doses: we really couldn't understand this pub crawl thing.
I wondered why I was thinking taking such ridiculous thoughts so seriously. During my evening meal the weather worsened. There was no sign of Malcolm. I checked the guy ropes and returned to the tent, and lay waiting for the mother of storms the BBC had forecast.