Five girls, two cyclists, a van, a dog and some ultra ticks

The supporting cast

Before I begin to witter on at length about feats of adventuring to make you gasp and stretch one's eyes, a mention for the persons not appearing in this post. I've done it all this year,  pretty much. I've ticked a few big, bold boxes and I'm very happy with that.  But it's a selfish mindset and a time-eating schedule which enable these things. Alan has spent many a weekend alone with his music, games and bike.  My parents, sisters , brother, nieces and nephew have heard stories but caught only exhausted glimpses of me. Friends in Glossop and Manchester have had babies, moved houses, suffered bereavement of loved ones, and celebrated milestone birthdays without me there to support them.  I want them to know that even in absence, they are all there clear as day in my mind, telling me I'm crazy/keep going/don't forget to wash your socks. My supporting cast. Take a bow.  Now I can't claim I've got a really important run/adventure to do I will be a better friend. I'm sorry I've not been around. 

The challenge

Viv organises meetups outdoors,  at which people can have a great experience for a donation to charity. Freedom from Torture support the victims of torture both physically and mentally.  It's one of many charities that can go under the radar and they deserve every penny they can get. Last year she contacted me,  and a few other tough-ass runners she knows, to try to organise a trip up the West Highland Way ( to be referred to henceforth as the WHW) to raise funds and have an adventure as we did so.

https://www.justgiving.com/whw-run

It didn't come off last year, and after a few dates were dropped,  the August Bank holiday was fixed.  

The organisation was probably a nervy time for Viv, who did her best to make sure as many who wanted to come would be able to. She shared details of trains, hotels and hostels and one by one the runners dropped into the group. Females to a man, though the intention was never to exclude men, indeed we gained two cycling participants (co-ed) and a van-travelling husband. Viv had been generating donations handsomely in the week leading up, with a well timed push on social media. Whilst I am the sprite of the group, Viv is the wise mage, thoughtful, worldly and solemn as she reminds us all that "there are more important things going on" in today's world. 

Anyway, to the point. We met at Milngavie on Friday morning,  after a false start involving a cancelled train. It's pronounced mullgeye to rhyme with aye. 

Day one

We nervously said hello and introduced one another. Viv, the instigator. Sue, fresh from winning fastest female veteran at the Glencoe Skyline race. Carmen, the ultra fast ultra runner of the adventure declaration blog. Julie, the last to sign up having initially planned a solo version of the same. Me, with a lot to live up to since my BGR.  Sharon and Paul on the first bike touring holiday of their lives,  Carl in the camper with his and Carmens dog. Each one of us strongly believed that she was the slowest or least well equipped.

L-R Carmen, Viv, Me, Sue. Julie's taking the photo

Our route was to cover 34 miles (maybe 36? ) to Inversnaid. Companionable chatter about racing, travelling and eating cake soon put the nerves at rest and we ate up miles on the comparatively  dull part of the route, through farm gates and muddy trails. On arriving in Drymen I was glad to see everyone heartily assenting to a tea room stop.
The real Highlands began to appear from behind the forest trails thereafter. We overtook walkers and approached a hill I pronounced eminently runnable,  a small heather -clad ridge. Conich Hill was loads of fun to run down- it transpired that it's the only part of the WHW you'll really need clawed shoes for.

Movie of the approach to Conich Hill showing the fien weather we had 

 Another cafe stop for chips at pretty Balmaha and we were off beside Loch Lomond,  an accompanying feature for most of that day and the next. The miles into the overnight stop at Inversnaid were forest trailled,  gently undulating.  We spilt,  as Sue's legs were protesting; Julie and I had been steady at the front all day so we accepted Carmen's offer to get back in time for Carl to get his own run in before dark. Soon we were broken by Carmen's strong pace, so we freed her and slowed from a trot to the usual 5-6mph jog. The end of the day was calling,  and each incline was greeted with a "hill declaration " - ultra runners walk up all climbs, to conserve energy. As the miles ticked by, inclines were also greeted by a torrent of foul cursing. We were eager to rest and eat, and it was past 7pm before we saw the hotel at Inversnaid,  beside a hugely roaring sepia-toned waterfall. "bunkhouse just up the road from here " said the sign which also offered pickup services.  We are Runners,  and we don't need a...oh...Up there. The tarmac steep road. Oh. Well let's go. Twenty minutes later we cheered as the old church building came into view,  and stumbled through midge clouds to Carls van to collect bags,  then into a humid room smelling sweet with food and beer. Sharon and Paul helped us with the practicality of checking in, ate a fine meal with us and we retired after a shower to our cramped bunk rooms. Sleep came late due to the other hostellers inability to close doors gently,  not lock themselves out and speak below a screech. I know, earplugs.  Didn't help.

Miles covered: 34.5. Hours 9 or so. Cafe stops: 2. Sore toe stops play : 1

Viv running up hill on Day 1  - enthusiasm! 

Day two

We shuffled around the corridor of the hostel, dodging midges and feeling the impending Longest Day and Drizzle feelings.  We had about 38 miles to cover, and we were all sure that once that had been done, the last day with only 26 miles would feel easy. 7.40 and we stowed bags with Sherpa Carl,  bidding a fond farewell to Carmen, whose toe injury had forced her to quit so that she'd recover in time for the Cumbria Way race in a few weeks. Sharon and Paul would catch the ferry and then the hope was to all meet up in Tyndrum. Sue the early bird had left, at a walk so as to loosen her still-race-tired legs. We planned to catch her up. The first few miles of our 38 mile day are described in the books as "the rough bit" which we all took with a pinch of salt, being hardened off roaders. Actually,  it's pretty hard to make fast progress over many rocky outcrops wet from streams and quite thick in the woods. It's made a lot more fun by the feral goats,  beautiful animals with a classy odour. My road shoes held up very well on wet rocks to my delight. I'd decided that much as l love my mudclaws, cushioning was needed. Once goat land was passed, we made a detour following a trod around a flooded pasture, only to end up a bit navigationally perplexed.  Map stop, and Ultra Tick made his or her first appearance. I didn't know ticks could have wings til then. It dropped into our map, then my finger, I flicked it away then luckily caught it trying to latch into my upper arm, it took a good pull to send it on its ticky way. Here ends the tale of zoes first live tick encounter. We had toast and tea at the well-equipped Beinglas Farm campsite and briefly said hello to Sue, who'd just finished her breakfast stop.

We made better speed after that, on hard surface tracks and finally said bye bye to Loch Lomond.  at the spur of the route toward Crianlarich,  we spied our quarry at the top of a climb "soooooo soooooo soooooo" we all yelled, like some demented damp birds of the Highlands... 

The rolling trails towards Tyndrum were fun, although a fair but of up and down so Sue kept back a bit. We passed a not very salubrious sign proclaiming the halfway point (sponsored by Tennants and Guinness it seemed)  and jogged into civilisation.  The Real Food Cafe was our meetup point in Tyndrum, just after the halfway point of the WHW and the stars aligned so that by the time Viv, Julie and my meals had arrived, so had Sue and Sharon and Paul. Bedraggled and quite anxious from their ride on the busy a82, though looking in fine fettle and ready to join us later in the Glencoe mountain centre about 18 miles hence.. 

Fuelled up on fish, chips, vegi pakoras and tea, we prepared to leave. Viv would stay back with Sue to keep her company, Julie and I would run a little ahead, keen to keep moving in the rain which now persisted.  We set off at a nice pace on the now ever present hard trail. We gave ourselves a few early hill declarations to ensure our full tummies wouldn't rebel. After maybe ten minutes I heard a squeal,  and saw orange-clad Viv running behind shouting and waving. My heart sank, my thoughts were that Sue had injured herself so I ran back towards Viv, preparing my sensible head. The actual situation was that Sue had decided to go only a short way on and end her day early, sending  Viv to catch us up. Glad we had those walk breaks.

 Very soon after this, I entered a period of what Julie politely calls "gastrointestinal distress " upon which I had to dash to a hollow a couple of times and reacquainted myself with lovely sphagnum moss. The pain and general wobbliness worried me that I'd caught a bug and I started to plan my own exit strategy.  On we ran through the driving rain with me occasionally having to declare hills early, to try to ease the cramps.  Viv was also fairly green about the gills but Julie was strong and cheery which helped immensely. We had promised ourselves a tea stop at Bridge of Orchy,  so we carried on til after passing a group of Labrador enthusiasts and their canine friends, it came into sight. The only place with tea is the hotel, so we dripped in, and ordered peppermint tea for our bellies and Tunnocks teacakes for our souls.  Viv also stocked up on nurofen as her hip was giving her grief. Suffice it to say we were all feeling the effects of the distance we'd covered and the weather was making it less pleasant. The friendly chaps we met on the pub warned us of "a big climb " (more salt) and Sue said Rannoch Moor was very bleak. The landscape actually kept me going that afternoon.  Proper wild, proper lonely, rolling tussocks and heather and streams and lochans. Nonetheless we had to make the mountain centre before the cafe closed at 1930. Some of the best scenery of the WHW gave into the best sight of the day, ski tow pylons... Nearly there! Sharon waited on the cafe porch with phone in hand..we stumble ran to the door. Our little micro lodges were cosy and comfy,  the showers were hot and the cafe had beer. I retreated to my sleeping bag and wet-wiped my feet, sulky and cold. Chatting and drinking tea with Sharon and Paul brought me round and I sunk into sleep.

Miles covered: 38. Hours: 11 ish. Cafe stops: 3
Quote of the day: if I vom, get the go pro out and film it (Viv)

Day three

Despite the lovely accommodation and shattering previous day. I slept fitfully,  waking to scoff oatcakes and Babybel and stuff paper in the road shoes. Sorry Sharon for the nocturnal rustling and blathering.  We set to leave at eight, after a quick porridge in our huts. Another silly place which doesn't serve brekky when outdoorsy folks need it. 

These things were indispensable on this trip. #properkit

Bags into Carls van, and farewell to him and Carmen after checking that the final destination hostel could accept them from our "Sherpa ".  Sharon and Paul prepared to leave at the same time, to try and avoid heavy traffic through Glencoe. Sue had set off ahead once more. As we jogged and faffed with jackets and gear down the lane, we spied Sharon and Paul riding, but they didn't hear our shouts over the wind and rain. It was wet but the sun shone from behind us and we were treated to rainbows aplenty.

My favourite picture of the Scottish weather

The Devil's staircase was our first tick off point. Not too bad a climb though made tougher by weather and tired legs and feet. We experienced a weird compass polarisation near the summit,  both Julies decent and "cracker" compass showing south where north should be. Nice descent but there was a long and hard-packed down to the last waypoint before the end, Kinlochleven.  Julie and I ran on to scout for breakfast.  With no success whatsoever.  Another place missing out on a market, we saw at least ten other hikers around who'd have appreciated a brew and a butty.  The owner of a hotel took pity on us, she hadn't even realised we'd ran 13 or so miles already, and made us tea. Viv and I shopped in Co op for cheese, fruit and oatcakes.  Time for the final leg 

 We all started to smile as the rain cleared and we reached a pretty Glen whose name I don't think we know yet, jogging along gently not minding about the speed, cos this one's in the bag! we started to play "taunt the walkers.. "well done. Nearly there, how many days did it take" oh..US? Three.

Down a never ending forest trails with the flanks of Ben Nevis opposite. And then the road which was greeted with elation..nearly at the end!! Sue really was hurting, we walked then ambled a bit, trying to encourage her to overtake hikers. Then we reached town, and we had no idea where to expect the end!  A torturous jog to the station (not here) then the high street (not here)  then a man outside a pub.. "it's down there" oh heaven. All the way to the far end of the high street and then it was done. Sue removed her shoes in the pub and we saw what had been hurting,  her toes were all battered and cut. We tried around the many outdoors shops to buy sandals.. Nothing fit so after a tasty meal and a few toasts, she walked to the taxi rank in her socks. The best hostel of the route "Chase the Wild Goose" was at the end. A warm room,  a lounging area and breakfast any time. Perfect!

Miles covered : 26. Hours: 8.  Cafe stops: 0.5 Beers consumed : at least 3. 

Quote of the day: and then we all ran down the hill in our knickers (not saying who, to protect the innocent)

lounging in the hostel

I'll add Day Four soon, but I was alone on that day and it doesn't really relate to this tale. What did I learn? I learned that ultra running is similar but not the same pace at a Bob Graham, I learned that cushioned shoes are a must on 'trails' . I learned that refined 'white' food is more easily digested, and to stay away from anything which you don't normally eat on the run. I should have known this but I got giddy and no longer will I pack pork pies or eat pakoras. I learned that eeryone has their low points but not everyone yells about it , and groups need to be prepared to split and re-group, or alter the plan slightly. I learned that my companions are all very tough, fit , resolute and have some great stories. I learned that whatever you think is tough, someone else has experienced something even more awful and they deserve our support.