Halsary Memorial to Loch Gaineimh

The effortless movement of the wind turbines looked majestic as the sun rose over the vast moorland and warm light began to flood the landscape. The first challenge was to get over the innocently named Little River; narrow, deep and with no intermediate rocks to hop across. A long and frustrating detour was required to find a farmer's bridge, hopes dashed with the rounding of each loop of the water. The river conquered, I then faced a long stretch of bog trotting to reach some flooded quarries, these scoops out of the peatland being almost impossible to see until you notice an unpleasant dampness. A track led through more recent quarrying to the mighty River Thurso.

Following the river upstream, a hidden gem emerges from what appears to be flat and featureless as the river winds through a narrow and steep gorge. Next to an arrow-shaped walled graveyard are the dark swirling waters of the Devil's Pool and an isolated tower of white rock that was the site of Dirlot Castle. There are trees as well, isolated in small clumps that cling to the cliffs, a soft contrast to the regimented lines of pine in the commercial forestry I've passed through. After miles of big skies and monochromatic scenery, the roar of the water and the sheer beauty of this narrow scar in the earth is inspiring.

Further on as the gorge opened out, the river began to slow and meander, a wide ribbon of deep blue placed gently on the earth. Wandering alongside, your horizons are limited to the steep earth banks that mark the edges of the flood plain. My pace slackened as I enjoyed this private paradise of soft meadows, calm air and smooth flowing water. At last I was able to let go of the scaffolding of reasoning I'd built up around this journey; the struts of justification and expectation. I enjoyed the moment for what it was: simple, uncomplicated and untarnished by my thoughts. The last miles of the day were spent on well made forestry tracks of hard orange sand. With the kind permission of Fountains Forestry, the overnight stop for the van was far from the beaten track on the shores of an isolated loch. There must be hard days to come, but right now life is good.