River Loyne to Gleann Cia-aig
(19 miles/856 metres ascent)
As we were getting our tents packed away the other two campers came over to chat. They turned out also to be Challengers; a father and son who'd been up on the tops until that point. I think they must have been Bill and Mark. They certainly looked very fit, anyway, and were zipping away while Jean and I were still packing up.
We got going ourselves at about 8.15am. The ground was extremely boggy as we made our way over towards the hillside, and we had considerable difficulty in finding the path to the top that we knew was there, having spotted it the day before from the other side of the valley. Jean eventually spotted it lurking under a tree, though, which was a great relief as it made our progress much faster.
Once again we were surrounded from the start by glorious views...
...and when we arrived at a stile we stopped to take a piccy or two.
Shirl and Jean 
We pressed on over the top, and eventually descended to the little road leading left towards Tomdoun.
There were many lovely things to be seen along the side of Loch Poulary, including the first of the gorse...
...and some amazing lichens living on the side of an old tree trunk...
and on the branches of a tree in the river.
A pretty bluebell stood alone amongst the bracken and grass...
and I saw the first of what turned out to be literally hundreds (possibly thousands!) of little violets.
Soon after that the Tomdoun Hotel came into view, and we were both relieved to be able to put down our sacks, take off our boots, gaiters and waterproofs and go inside to stand before the enormous, open fire :-) This was truly bliss. The landlord came over to help us, and I was very soon sipping at a glass of outstanding Magners cider, with ice, as recommended by the landlord. Jean chose to have the home-made wild mushroom and coriander soup - major yum! - but I wanted something more substantial and so I had a wonderful smoked salmon baguette. It was all delicious, and as we were eating a couple of the hotel's dogs came over and smiled winningly at us, in an attempt to join in.
During our meal the landloard rang in to TGO Control to enquire about a missing walker, and when I realised he was speaking to Roger I asked if I could say hello too, because I'd forgotten where I'd made a note of when my phone calls were supposed to be, and I wasn't sure whether I was meant to be ringing in that day. In the event it turned out that my first phone call was meant to be the following day, so I said I'd ring again from Fort William, but it was still nice to say hello to Roger, to whom I'd never spoken before.
It was 11.45 when we got to the hotel, and I was anxious not to stay too long because I had so much walking to do that day, in an attempt to gain back some of the ground already lost to the previous day's difficult weather. It was very difficult to leave, though, when the surroundings were so warm and congenial, and particularly when other Challengers started to arrive. There were 4 other Challengers there by the time I began to pack my things together, at least one of whom was planning to walk down to the bunkhouse near Invergarry, which was Jean's next destination.
We finally got our bits together, and set off along Loch Garry for the tracks through the forest on the other side at about 1.15pm. The going was good, and we were able to navigate the paths through the forest without incident. About 7km after the hotel Jean and I eventually came to the point at which our paths diverged. We stopped for a brief rest in a convenient hut, and then took a couple of photos.
Jean and Shirl 
We hugged briefly - almost knocking each other over in the collision of heavy rucksacks! - and then we went off in our separate directions. Part of me was sorry to leave Jean, but another part was very excited about striking off on my own into the unknown. In any event, Jean and I had already arranged to meet up again in Edzell on the night before the last day of the walk, and we had fish and chips to look forward to there, as well as the prospect of the post-walk dinner in Montrose before us :-)
It was now about 4pm, and I strode on as fast as seemed sensible, anxious to make up lost ground. My original plan had been to camp near Spean Bridge that night, and I had to try to get as close to there as possible because I had a parcel to collect from the Post Office in Fort William the following day. Apart from that, I'd been looking forward to re-visiting the kit shops in Fort William in search of the Paramo wind shirt since the start of the walk, and I was now wondering whether it might be possible to customise my pack by adding some strong, elasticated cord to the top to which I could attach my windproof jacket, so that I didn't have to open my pack each time I wanted to get at it. Finally, I was already compiling a mental list of non-essential things I might send home from Fort William, in order to lighten my load as much as possible.
There's always time to stop for pictures, though, and not long afterwards I was photographing some pretty wood anemones on the side of a bank. I was trying to get the hang of the little fold-out window on my Canon A95, which is why the angle is rather peculiar!
The first part of my route lay within the forest south of Loch Garry, and Colin had warned me that the path shown on the map might be difficult to find on the ground, once the main track petered out at a deer fence. He was right, and I was faced with a choice of going SW along a faint path shown on the ground, which is what the map suggested, or SE along a broader path to follow the deer path round the edge. Colin had said he thought the SW path did actually exist, and so I decided to go that way, and in fact I was able to follow it through the forest without too much difficulty. There were a couple of points at which I was unsure, but I toyed with the map and compass, did what seemed to be right and it all worked out in the end :-)
It was very stirring to be able to see distant, snow-capped mountains wherever I looked!
Eventually I broke free of the forest at the deer fence, and made my way out onto the open hill side. Initially I just walked on a bearing, but soon I came across a number of paths that looked as though they must have been made by motorbikes or something similar. They were a welcome sight, though, because they prevented me from having to do too much bashing through heather. I'd read so many frightening stories about sheep and deer ticks before leaving home that I was now scared to sit down on the heather or in the grass, and couldn't imagine replacing my long trousers with shorts at any stage!
Some time after I started walking a new deer fence began on my right, and I came to a gate. I wasn't sure whether I should stay to the left or go through the gate to the right, but I decided that perhaps a gate implied that I should enter and so I did. I made my way down towards a distant hill in the west, where I thought the Fedden Ruin must be.
Along the way I passed little Lochain Fhudair to the right, and the ground grew increasingly boggy again. I came to a point where the deer fence crossed in front of me from east to west, and in order to avoid wading through deep water at a couple of points I had to perform an acrobatic manoeuvre which involved pushing the toes of my shoes into the holes in the wire while balancing on the wooden plank at the bottom of the fence, and holding on for dear life with my hands higher up, as the weight of my rucksack threatened to pull me off backwards into the mire! I got across, though, without a soaking, and eventually turned left along the fence to follow the path down towards the Fedden Ruin.
As the ruin came into sight it appeared to be some sort of monument - not what I'd expected at all - but there were several tents pitched outside on some relatively flat grass, and I gave serious consideration to stopping there for the night.
I'd been wearing a base layer until about 40 minutes earlier, but the sun had gone in and I was now in my windproof jacket. I was comfy and warm, but it must have been about 8pm, and I was again concerned that if I pressed on to look for another decent site I might lose the light. In the end, though, I decided to continue. I was very keen to go as far as possible, in order to try to get into Fort William with time to perform my various errands and have a litte fun the following day, and I didn't feel particularly tired. I therefore rounded the bend to the right, and set off towards the woods at Gleann Cia-aig.
The path was relatively easy, and I kept a close eye out in case I passed an idyllic spot in which to pitch the tent. I didn't, though, and after quite some time I came to the start of the wooded part of the path. The wood was only on one side of the path at this stage, and so there was still a fair amount of light about, but still I experienced a faint frisson of alarm at the idea of walking alone through woodland at night. I had to keep going until I could find somewhere to put the tent, though, and so I stifled the frisson and walked on.
The first part of the path was very badly churned up by some sort of motor tyres, and I had to keep skipping to the edges of large, muddy puddles in the hope of keeping yet more muddy water out of my boots. It eventually improved considerably, though, and not long afterwards the trees extended to both sides of the path.
It really was impossible to find anywhere to put the tent, as the area covered by trees was a tangle of tree roots and dead pine needles, whilst the grassy verges were far too narrow to pitch anything. The path took a steep turn uphill, and I began to despair of finding anything at all until I'd reached the road at the bottom. I stopped for a brief rest at one stage, and leaned on my Pacerpoles. As I did so I glanced along a gloomy avenue of trees to my right, and suddenly my eye caught sight of what seemed to be a cat-like creature - certainly a creature with cat-like movements - bounding into the avenue clearing from the forest on the left. I stared down - it's hard to tell in the dark, but what I'd seen must surely have been at least 30 meters away - and saw no further movement, so I was just deciding that I must have imagined it when the creature bounded from the centre of the avenue into the trees on the right and was gone. I have no idea what it was, except that the movements were definitely those of some sort of cat. I'd like to think that maybe it was a Scottish wild cat, as I understand they do live in that part of the country.
Having got my breath I started again up the hill, and walked further. Much of the light had now gone, but my eyes had grown accustomed to the conditions and so the forest didn't actually seem terribly dark. Down in a stream by my left foot I noticed a bunch of beautiful primroses, and stopped for a picture.
After that I walked on, and quite suddenly, as I rounded a bend to the left, I came across a small piece of flat grass to my right, next to a drop which fell down to a waterfall. It was really lovely, and I immediately stopped and took off my pack to put up the tent. Next to the grass was a muddy quagmire, which looked as though it was used by trucks as a turning point. I wasn't bothered about that, though, as long as no truck came dashing along the path and drove over my tent in the morning, and so I put up the Dragonfly facing the path, emptied my pack and crawled in.
By now it was 10pm, and this had been a 14 hour walk for me (well, apart from the break at Tomdoun for lunch), and I was more than ready for sleep. Again I didn't bother to cook, but drank the remainder of my flask of coffee and ate a pasty and some flapjack. I then settled down in my bag with my book and soon fell asleep.
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