Walking from John O'Groats to Land's End in the winter of 07/08.

Tuesday, 20 November 2007

Crask Inn to Bonar Bridge

An early breakfast of salted porridge was the fuel for the toughest day so far. Leaving as the sky slowly began to lighten, I started off down the road as the innkeeper set off to find his extremely free range sheep. Yesterday I had assured him that they had not yet crossed the soggy bealach. Later, as I started to doubt exactly where I seen the hardy woolly folk, I thought of him roaming the hills and cursing me under his breath.

The small amount of traffic that passed me on the long road to Lairg was mainly lorries taking Christmas trees down south. Patches of forestry appeared at the side of the road, but despite name boards and walkers welcome signs the map gave no clue as to whether I'd ever be able to find my way back to the road again. The gently descending road allowed a good pace and my mind was numbed into a kind of peace by the rhythm of the repetitive motion and slowly passing scenery.

As the rough landscape softened to pasture and the river Tirry joined the wide expanse of Loch Shin, it was time to leave the wilderness behind for the town of Lairg. The range of delicious (but unhealthy) food in the first shop I came to was overwhelming and I had to stop myself from buying more food than I could fit in my pack.

My footsteps fell heavily along a small road following the river before the long forestry tracks through Shin Forest came to the rescue of my tingling soles. The muddy track climbed quickly up the side of a steep wooded valley providing impressive views to small white buildings clinging to the opposite hillside.

I was deposited back on the road near the elegant white brick arches of the old Shin bridge and followed it south as it ducked under an impressive railway viaduct. A new footbridge clung to its side like a vine snaking along a mighty industrial tree. Soon after, I was able to escape into the Balblair and Maikle woods. As the light faded the blue tinted clouds and pink sky were reflected in the still waters of the Kyle of Sutherland. In my fatigued state this was a euphoria inducing sight and I floated all the way to the hotel.

No comments: