Stretching My Legs
The forecast was for rain all day. It was with great relief that I woke in the early morning and saw clear skies. There was still precipitation in the forecast. That meant the sooner I got out on the trail, the more distance I could put behind me before the skies opened up.
There are three major issues with the rain on hikes like this. The first is that it really limits what you can see. The second is that even the best rain gear gets very hot very fast. The third issue is possibly the most important: All the rocks to be scaled get incredibly slippery, and many of the trails become streams and rivers as water collects in the channels cut out for the trail.
Breakfast began at 7:00 a.m. and I was the second one in the door. It was buffet-style and more than adequate. I appreciated having vegetarian sausage among the selections.
I had my backpack on and was heading for the trail before 8:00 a.m. At least I thought I was heading for the trail. Leaving the hotel property, I made a right turn to walk out the driveway. In about 50 yards I realized it wasn't a driveway at all. It was the road, and I was going the wrong way. When I turned around I ran into one of the Australian couples, JB and Kristen. They were very amused by my wandering and I wound up walking with them for several hours.
The views were incredible, the trail was challenging, and the time flew by as we engaged in conversation. Kristen, among her other skill sets, is a meteorologist. JB was in both the British and Australian armies, and now works for the equivalent of their state department.
Today's path took us along a rural road, and after entering a park, it cut over to the edge of Loch Lomond. For the most part, we were never more than 10 to 50 yards away from the water's edge. It was incredibly rocky, and picking our way over the stones without incident was like a continuous game of solving puzzles. There were actually times where I had to stop, stand still, and select the best plan of attack.
Some of the miles took more than 30 minutes to cover. It was important to pause occasionally and look up and around. Too much time was otherwise spent looking down to make sure there was no danger of misstepping, and I didn't want the most vivid visual memory of my trip to be the top of my shoes.
The three of us walked together for the better part of four hours. We took a break at the only civilized rest stop along the way. It was a high-end hotel and at the entry were several signs dictating that all footwear must be removed. Clearly, being directly on the trail put them in the bullseye to be receivers of many muddy boots and shoes.
We sat outside under the sun and celebrated that the threatening rainstorms had not arrived yet. With beverages we purchased inside, we consumed the box lunches packed for us at the hotel the night before. Everything tasted delicious. That by no means means the food was actually of high quality. But being hungry makes everything much more palatable.
One off-putting aspect to having no shoes on inside the building soon became very obvious. When I went into the restroom, the floor was literally a minefield and I did my best to protect my socks. I feel like I did very well. At least, that's what I'm telling myself. Now that I'm at my hotel, those socks have been triple-washed.
My pace was generally a little faster than theirs so we split up after lunch. Hotel accommodations were limited up ahead, and I could walk to mine along the trail, but JB and Kristen would have to take a ferry across the lake to their hotel. There was a complicated system to signal the ferryman. He would arrive on schedule at appointed times only if a buoy marker on a mast was raised or lowered. He would scan from the other side of the lake with his binoculars, and only make the trip if he knew people were waiting.
I passed their embarkation point about three miles or so from my destination. That meant a shorter walk for them today, but a longer walk tomorrow.
It was a little frustrating when I was at the 14-mile point and had not arrived at my hotel yet. That was the distance my literature had calculated, but it turns out there were almost two additional miles beyond that.
For the last 45 minutes, I was joined by two other hikers – a 20-year-old university student from the Black Forest in Germany, and a 50-year-old entrepreneur from Portsmouth, England. They were both camping for the night, and had not slept well the night before because it had rained. Part of our conversation was all about being ready to be done for the day. As magnificent as the scenery was, there was a certain beauty in the idea of sitting down in a chair and taking off my shoes.
As we finally reached the outskirts of civilization they were filled with glee as we walked directly into their campsite. My hotel was still about a quarter-mile away. It was in sight at this point and that was all that mattered.
I had expected to arrive well before 3:00 p.m. but did not get to my hotel room until about 4:30. Then it was time to engage in what has become a daily ritual, with one exception. Clothes were washed and I enjoyed a nice hot shower, but there was no opportunity to take my usual nap. By the time I got everything accomplished, my dinner reservation was less than an hour away. If I didn't sit down to eat at 6:30, I would have to wait until the 8:00 p.m. seating, and I hoped to be back in my room long before then.
There was lots of meat on the menu, including venison. There were also three different ways to order haggis. I chose none of them and opted for what I call “brown food.” This was the first time I’ve had fish and chips since Robin Hood's Bay at the completion of Wainwright's Coast to Coast.
Anybody who knows anything about my hotel preferences understands I avoid connecting doors as much as possible. There is never a good sound that comes through the portal. This was especially true this evening, as my neighbor shared their room with three dogs. I returned to my room before they did and the dogs barked incessantly. Maybe it was out of boredom or maybe it was out of separation anxiety. The good news is, as soon as the owner turned the key in the door, the barking stopped and all went silent. I'm hoping it stays that way for the night.
The rain never did appear today. It was a beautiful sunny day with cool breezes that would occasionally waft off the water. There will be more views of Loch Lomond as I climb out of the valley tomorrow. Today was the day to enjoy it all up close.
Once again, the more the trail forces me to struggle, the more I appreciate completing the task. I go to sleep with legs aching and without any remaining spring. If things go as they have in the past, I'll wake up refreshed and without any pain, ready to take on the next segment of this journey.