Torridon 3

I arrive at the top of Ben Damh, there is a proper cairn and a little shelter built from rocks. My plan was that the sun comes out now that I'm up here, but it doesn't, so I don't hang around and turn back. I leave the ridge and lose the path. I wander around the rocky moor, every rock seems familiar but then isn't. Eventually I spot a cairn and find the path again.

Back at the bealach it starts to rain harder. The water is sloshing in my boots and I have to put on gloves as the cold wind is draining all the heat from my wet hands. Walking down, the previously wet path has now turned into a proper burn. Not that that would make any difference for my already soaking wet feet. The trouble is that my boots are waterproof, so the water isn't going to go anywhere.

I see a group of walkers crossing a river below me and joining my path ahead of me. I catch up with them. Turns out they tried to climb Ben Damh as well but gave up because of the weather. I tell them they didn't miss much and stride sprightly past them, feeling young, strong and not just a little smug.

Reaching the woods I spot a massive waterfall that I'm sure wasn't there before. The rain finally eases for just long enough to take a picture.

Back at the car, conveniently parked at the Torridon Inn, I empty my boots, wring out my socks, and get a soup and a coffee in the pub and check out my gear. My trousers are completety soaked as are my pants. But my jacket did a fantastic job at keeping me dry and toasty all day. My waterproof rucksack looks very wet but everything inside is dry. Strangely, the pocket in the lid at the top is not waterproof even though the rain usually gets there first... Other than that, I'm very happy with this purchase, it's comfy and roomy.

Back at the hostel I share my fruity tea with some Germans. They are on a supported mountain bike trip and got mugged in Nottinghamshire. Everyone is gathered in the panorama lounge, watching and listening to the rain together, Scottish, English, Germans united, drinking tea.

The Scottish boys are from Glasgow and give me their leftover chilli con carne - nice! I didn't plan my provisions well, and shops are few and far between. Now, instead of having spaghetti & pesto every night, I have two nights of spaghetti & chilli!

Cobbler

I took some shoes to the cobbler to extend their lifetime a bit, but oh boy was that cobbler scary! This wasn't the experience I had had in mind at all!

The shop looked old-fashioned and no-nonsense from the outside, and not one of these chain stores that double up as key cutting services. It actually has an old wooden sign above the door saying "Gorgie Cobblers", how quaint! But instead of a frail old man with glasses and little hair, a tattooed brute "welcomed" me and refused to do any of the things to my shoes that I had in mind. In fact, I'm not actually sure what it is he is going to do - I was too scared to ask too many questions, let alone take my business elsewhere.

At some point during our short exchange he said to me "this is the heel." when I referred to the part in question as "the back bit of the sole". And he seemed furious about having to explain the correct term to me, or maybe he thought I wasn't taking his profession seriously. I certainly am now!

Tax return II

This!

Isn't she adorable?

Tax return I

Every April, I get a huge tax return. This is because HMRC got my tax code wrong. I have now taken steps to get it fixed, but that means the end of my annual cash surprise.

This year, I treated myself to something special. It arrived last week in this funnily shaped parcel. Can you guess what it is?

More Glen Affric Pics

While I'm away shooting more pics in Glencoe, here are some more pictures of Glen Affric from a few weeks ago.

One of the wilder burns we had to cross

The boys walking ahead

Caledonian Pine

 

 

No Need for a Helmet

I knew there were good reasons not to wear a bike helmet, apart from the ones I was already aware of: Helmets can ruin your hairstyle, helmets are just a another piece of gear when one already has to carry a lock, lights, and possibly tools, and serious bike accidents with head injuries are rare.

Helmets are also a disproportionate measure and fuel fear of cycling as set out in a blog post by Howie Chong (click):

"If there was conclusive proof that bike helmets reduce the total number of serious head injuries compared to other normal activities, then I'd reconsider my stance. But if I'm not the kind of person who wears a helmet when I take a walk or get behind the wheel of a car, then there's no logic to me wearing one when I'm on a bike, particularly if I'm confident in my urban bike safety ability. Meanwhile the proof is pretty strong that vehicles give me more space when I'm biking without a helmet. In a city biking, that's the kind of injury I'm most concerned about. And I want to encourage more people to get on their bicycles, because the more cyclists are out on the road, the safer I'll be."

Tents

Should I buy the Vango Zenith 100 (click) for £96? Any opinions appreciated.
It's a one-man tent weighing 1.72 kg which is quite light considering the price.

Mittens

My gloves are neither pretty nor waterproof and not even the right size, but they are a quality brand, light-weight, super toasty and a steal at TK Maxx last year. Perfect for cycling.

My Christmas Presents Have Arrived!

Yay! It is a nice-looking, snuggly pair of fleece-lined, water repellent winter walking / cycling trousers and a down vest which will help me survive the Scottish winter, outdoor Hogmanay celebrations, winter walks, and chilly Scottish summer nights. Thank you my dear parents!

Is it too early to put them on?

Bobbles

It was strangely satisfying to produce a large pile of lint when shaving the bobbles off my old fleece. I can now relate to my former flatmate Sally's excitement when confronted with the task of shaving a whole couch. (At the time, she seemed nuts, sitting in front of the sofa, buzzing away for hours.)

Old Shoes

The other day I set off to get myself a new pair of light walking shoes for easy hillwalking and everyday use. I wanted them to be light in feel and actual weight, robust, with some grip, comfortable, breathable, and pretty. The closest I got to my requirements was a pair of Merrell shoes (*click*) that looked nice and featured some new design with extra little arch support, a low heel, and lots of wiggly space for the toes. But I just couldn't buy them. Even though I have a budget for them (Christmas - yay!), and the sales person was really helpful, and I wanted to buy them. But they weren't perfect, and I very rarely spend as much as 90 quid in one go for stuff these days, and what I really want are these: *click*, which are not available in the UK.

More Old Friends

My laptop, a T500 Thinkpad, has now reached the ripe age of four, and apart from the fact that it is running on its second battery (the first one failed after 3 years) and its third charger (the first one failed five months ago, the generic replacement gave up the ghost today), it has been working smoothly and reliably. It still feels rather fast and high quality, like a modern machine, and while I used to dream of new computers when my current ones reached the age of two at the latest, that has never happened to me since I bought my Thinkpad. The only criticism I have is that it is quite heavy, as with a 15 inch screen it is rather big. So today, after my most recent computer scare (battery died and wouldn't recharge) and me digging out my flatmate's voltmeter, confirming a broken charger, and running around town to find a replacement, I started looking at other computers. Just in case. Because computers sadly don't live forever. The thing is, I never want to own anything else than a Thinkpad, because of the four or five computers I have had in my life it is the only one that has never failed me, and its quality and robustness have won me over. But I could probably live with a smaller screen for the sake of better mobility, and I certainly haven't used my DVD drive enough to justify having one. I also like the idea of  having a solid state hard drive, and I have been quite happy with Windows 7. Unfortunately, the simplest model for my requirements isn't simple at all, but costs over £1000. I guess I'll use my good old brick laptop for a few more years then.

Goodbye, Old Friends

Yesterday, Paul and I walked the Kelvin Walkway, a 10 miles (16 km) long walk from Glasgow to Milngavie, the official starting point of the West Highland Way. The walk would have been nice if there hadn't been as much litter everywhere, but the sun came out, it didn't rain, and it was great to stretch the legs for a bit again.

Glasgow's river Clyde after sunrise

The walk follows the river Kelvin and starts where it meets the river Clyde. The second half of the walk was quite muddy in places so that once back home again I thoroughly cleaned my boots and inspected them to see if I can restore their waterproofness. When I filled them with water, however, the water came out through the fabric not only in the parts where seams had come loose or broken, but everywhere. So today, when my housemate Pete asked me to join him to go to Tiso, a big outdoor store, I came along and had someone look at my old boots. The diagnosis was serious, the condition terminal.

Apparently, the GoreTex membrane, which makes fabric boots waterproof, doesn't last forever. Not only can it get destroyed by heat and dirt, but just the wear and tear and friction of the regular use wears the membrane down after just a few years. I don't want good walking boots to last only for a few years, though. They cost a lot, it takes a while to pick the right ones, they need to be broken in and cared for, and I get attached to them. Even though I got my old pair for a pretty good price I was sad to see them go. I remember buying them from a very cute outdoor shop salesman at Tiso in Aberdeen, doing many walks with them in Germany, Scotland, England, Wales and Iceland, never getting any blisters. Even though I didn't like their look (too big, too blue), they did serve me well. I left them at the Glasgow Tiso, where I'm sure the staff find them a good home. The laces and the memories are all I'm left with.

So, as much of a fan of fabric boots I am, I decided to get leather boots this time. Leather naturally has waterproof qualities (it's skin, after all), however, the term waterproof is relative. There are leather boots out there which have a GoreTex membrane as well, just to be on the safe side. Once the membrane is gone after a few years of serious use, the leather, if well cared for, will still provide a decent waterproofness. I tried a few of them on, and they do feel much stiffer than my old Columbia fabric boots, the smooth leather ones even more so than the nubuck leather ones. Also, it seems like most female hikers have smaller feet than me, so that there weren't many women's boots that came in my size. I bought  a pair of men's Meindl Burma Pro boots with GoreTex and MFS padding around the ankle. The one detail that I am not crazy about is the Vibram soles, which are known for their quick abrasion. But since these boots can be resoled if need be that's not a major issue. I can't wait to break them in!

Outback adventures part 2 - Karumba

I am early at the airport on my way to Normanton and couldn't have been happier when I find a merino store with Icebreaker items on sale! I have a lengthy chat with the sales lady about this brand, and it turns out we're both huge fans. She hands me a cardigan which is 50% off and I of course take it. Happiness. One of the few exceptions of my self-imposed shopping ban: Icebreaker on sale.

I arrive at Normanton airport which is smaller than Exeter but larger than the the one on Lady Elliot Island. The taxi to Karumba digs a deep hole into my travel budget but I have a nice and informative chat with my chauffeur on the 45 min drive. Karumba Point is known for great sunsets and fishing. There's nothing else. Way overrated and certainly not worth the pricey taxi ride and two nights in the motel there. But at least they have wifi and A/C. During the day I sleep, surf the internet, and read, and only go out in the evening to have a beer and watch the sunset over the Gulf of Carpentaria. Love the name. Sounds like carpet snake. Carpet serpent. In the morning, I walk to Karumba town to see whether they have more to offer than a pretty sunset. They don't.

Sunset no.1

Wallabies

Poinciana tree

Many big predator birds here

I took a hundred pictures of the sunset to make it worth my expenses.

Thorsborne Log Day 4

I get up and go skinny dipping in the sea at sunrise.

I begin to understand the appeal of free body culture. What a great day! I wash in the lagoon and set off to fetch drinking water upstream. Last night a few rain drops hit my tent, maybe there's more water in the creek this morning and I won't have to walk as far.

Cairns. Stone men. They reassure you that you're on the right track.

Or, at least on a track. That other people have been here before. Not sure why they are here in this part of the creek. No drinking water here. Do they tell you to keep going? To have faith? It smells like crocodile here.

You would think it's boring, walking on your own. But in fact it's not. Not for me. There's so much going on in my head, all I have to do is listen. It's the perfect entertainment, and it's all about me! I wonder how long you'll have to walk for until your mind shuts up?

I almost burn my porridge again. I have given up making coffee since the instant powder I got is pish. The setting here makes me think of being stranded on a remote, uninhabited island. Which I kind of am. I wonder how long I could survive here? There's plenty of drinking water, no real threat from wildlife. I'd have to learn how to fish, and figure out which plants are edible.

Ahead lies an easy day.

Only two hours to the next camping area, and from there a few more kilometers to a creek which hopefully has water. I'm getting picked up tomorrow moring at a place where I can't camp, but I'd like to spend the night as close to there as possible, so I won't miss the boat. It's funny how I still worry about being late even though I get up at sunrise anyway, and they'll even wait for me. Deeply ingrained habit.

I reach Nina Bay. Another tropical paradise. I better watch the coconut trees. There's this cliche that coconuts kill more people in Australia than sharks.

I take a dip in the sea, eat my last apple, and set off to find drinking water. I see a coconut on the ground which looks as if it hasn't been there for very long. I carefully approach it while watching the other, dangerous ones on the tree. It takes me about an hour to open it with my cheap knife and a rock.

It's still good! What a success!

The hardest part was actually to find the actual nut and to get rid of the softer, fibrous stuff around it. I could definitely survive here.

Ok, coconut gets old way before eating one quarter of it. At least I have enough food now.

At the top of my last climb I meet two Australian walkers and we chat for a while. I give them half of my coconut, they offer drinking water. I stupidly decline. When I reach my last lonely beach of this trip, Blacksand Beach, and my last place to put up my tent I realize that the creek I was counting on is dry. I guess I won't wash until the boat pick-up then.

I set up my tent on the beach under tea trees.

The map says they are tea trees (melaleuca), but to me they look like eucalyptus trees. This is not a designated camping area. No rat-boxes here, so I hang my food up in a tree.

Thorsborne Log Day 3

I wake up at sunrise and burn my porridge. I eat it anyway. I didn't bring extra food. Even more reason for muesli instead next time.

The night was OK. I slept a little better than the night before, I was really alone, and not a bit scared - at least after a lengthy and victorious mozzie fight. I left the rain fly open so I could look into the stars through my mosquito net. Pretty.

I leave camp at at 6.45 am and walk through rain forest again.

According to the map this should be the part where I would get my feet wet - but no, at the end of the dry period I guess I got lucky. I am grateful for my GoLite shoes that hold up so well - no need for my heavy waterproof boots, even my feet are still fine.

The pack feels lighter today. Is it because I got stronger or did I pack better? Or rather because I have run out of drinking water?

I'm loving this rain forest. So many kinds of palm trees, and leaves, mangroves, big boulders, eucalyptus trees. When I stop moving I can hear all these birds.

It smells funny. Or is it me? I should book accommodation for after my hike by phone rather than face to face. Over the phone they won't be able to smell my 5 day camping odor.

Nights at the edge of the rain forest, 10 m from the sea, are actually really noisy. The breaking waves, birds, cicadas, pigs (?),... I'm surprised I'm still top fit during the day, even though I haven't slept properly for 4 nights.

It's getting drier the further up north I walk. I hope there will be more swimming holes for at least a basic wash.

There are a few creeks to cross. The last one is a crocodile creek with warning signs on both sides that strongly advise you not to enter the river. But the absence of any French guy leftovers reassures me. Surely, the crocs wouldn't have eaten all their gear!

After 4 hours without any croc sightings I finally leave the rain forest which has been so dense at times that I almost got stuck with my big backpack. Now, eucalyptus and grass. Pretty. Hello sun!

I eat a dark chocolate almond cranberry bar and put on more insect repellent. It distributes the dirt evenly on my skin and makes me look more tanned than I will be after a proper wash.

Aaand back into the stupid rain forest. It's getting old. Sigh. At least it's not as swampy anymore, less insects around. A mixture of sweat, dirt, insect repellent, and sun screen runs don my arms and legs and drenches my shirt. I wonder how much weight I'm losing. Finally, I'm there. Little Ramsay Bay. I put up my tent in the shade at the edge of the forest, directly at the beach. A nice breeze enters my camping cove. I need to get drinking water. There's a creek that ends in a little lagoon right behind my camping spot. I have to walk upstream for a while until I actually see running water.

I go for a dip in the sea but not too far out, since the stinger season is about to begin, and even sharks are not uncommon in this area. Not sure about crocs. I wash the salt off in the lagoon anyway. The sea and the lagoon are very warm. The lagoon is a bit spooky.

I haven't treated the water from the creeks that I've been drinking, even though I bought water purification tablets. The brochure advises hikers to always treat their water. The locals tell me they never treat the water. In the end, I am too lazy for the complicated task of water treatment, since each tablet "purifies" 1 liter of water, but I only brought 1.5, 0.6, and 0.75 liter containers. But I've been fine so far. Saying that, I feel some discomfort in my belly. My first thought: My period! Second thought: The water! It is my period. Shit. But better today than two days ago I guess.

It's too early for dinner. Yesterday, I had dinner at 4.30 pm. It's 2.30 now. I walk too fast. Ok, chillin'. I read till dinner time.

There is no one around. The French have passed me, since they take one day less for the hike. There is no one else at the camping area. No one at this bay, no one will be coming here today from either north or south. No boats. I can hear one plane in the distance. I didn't have to wear a bikini. I'm not wearing a bra.

Wildlife of the day: Estuary crocodiles. What's a romantic moonlight stroll along the river for us is an easy midnight snack for them.

Thorsborne Log Day 1

I walked the Thorsborne Trail, and here is my log. As you can see, I had plenty of time to write down my thoughts. Enjoy.

After a sleepless night in Townsville I set off to Ingham by Greyhound as early as 7 am. Having some time to kill there, I go to the tourist office where I spend an hour chatting about the trail with one of their staff who has walked the trail himself three times already. He answers all my questions about crocodiles ("don't do anything stupid"), drinkable water ("the water in the creeks should be fine"), and creek crossings (at low tide), shows me some photographs, and tells me about things I might see, such as wild pigs. I'm not sure whether or not he's kidding and must look confused, so his colleague, an elderly lady, helps me out by making hilarious pig noises.

Around noon my shuttle minibus brings me (just me...) to the boat, not without giving me a quick overview and free tour of this area's cane sugar industry. They have extra rails for little sugar cane trains, and an endless (world's longest?) pier out to the sea to transfer the cane sugar to big cargo ships.

A little boat takes me and three French guys over to Hinchinbrook Island to the southern trail head of the Thorsborne Trail. I am actually relieved that it won't be just me on this island today.

The walk starts with a nice stroll along 5 km of lonely beach before entering deep rain forest.

A few shallow creeks have to be crossed, nothing to worry me with my Icelandic-glacial-river-crossing experience. My pack feels heavy. It's probably around 15 kg including 3 liters of water. But then, it's the first day, and the pack will feel lighter once I get stronger.

The designated camping area consists of one composting toilet, three rat-proof food boxes, and a waterfall with swimming hole which is full of curious fishies and a turtle.

One other couple, who are walking the trail in the opposite direction, from north to south, have put up their tent already. After some chat about trail conditions I find myself a nice spot for my brand-new tent that is far enough from the couple to maintain each other's privacy, but not too close to the waterfall, so the background noise won't make me want to pee all night.

I go for a swim and when I come back, the French guys have put up their tents directly next to mine. Oh well. So I won't be lonely tonight.

For the first night in days I'm not worried about mosquitoes or scratching my many bites. I don't sleep well anyway, since sleeping on a 15$ sleeping mat needs some getting used to.

Complaint of the day: My backpack is too heavy.