Spean Bridge to Tulloch

Distance Walked: 9.94 miles

Total Distance Walked: 24.83/82 miles

I awoke to the sound of birdsong and the flowing river. It had been a chilly night, and, despite my snug sleeping bag, I was feeling anything but well-rested. Anxious to begin the second day of our adventure, I crawled out of my tent to find Dani, already up, waiting for me like an excited puppy. The weather was quite the opposite of what we'd been treated to the day before. Ominous dark clouds covered the sky, and we knew we were in for a day of more traditional Scottish Highland weather. We hurriedly packed away our tents, brewed some coffee to have with some bourbons (very nutritious, I know), and set off.

Is this the right way?

The route followed a dirt track up to a farm, and well before we even reached the gate to the yard, I could hear a farm dog warning us to stay away. I have a very real fear of farm dogs after multiple traumatic encounters with them on past adventures. One of which involved peddling frantically down the driveway of a farm with a ridgeback snapping ferociously at my heels. I had instilled this fear in Dani too after recounting these stories in great detail the day before. We stood nervously on the safe side of the gate, trying to decide the best course of action. As we mulled over our limited choices, the first drops of rain began to fall, adding to our apprehension. Feeling brave, we decided to take our chances. As we opened the gate and began to hurry across the yard to the safety of the second gate, the barking became louder. But fortunately, on this occasion, no dog appeared. Little did we know that this was just the first of many challenges we'd have to overcome that day.

Safely through the farmyard, we made our way to the next gate and were absolutely delighted to find an actual East Highland Way sign. The first of very few. The farmer was clearly very keen to limit dawdling on their land, so the path was undeniable.

Malicious or Friendly?

Despite the rain, which was now coming down in full force, we were making good progress. We entered a patch of lovely, old woodland and were engaged in conversation (knowing us, an inappropriate topic) when, out of nowhere, the loudest "baaaaaa" you'd ever heard quickly brought our attention back to reality. We jumped around to identify the culprit. We were being followed closely by a very bold sheep with impressive horns. Slightly unnerved by the urgency in its bleating, we quickened our pace and dived through the gate into the next field. Having been alerted by the first sheep, more big-horn sheep in the second field were making their way towards us, and soon we were surrounded. Being from Wales, sheep don't scare us. But, possibly something to do with their giant horns, we weren't sure how to handle these sheep. After staring at each other for a short while, we determined that these locals were also friendly and only looking to be fed. So we relaxed and, of course, took some photos.

Our next farm animal encounter was not so enjoyable. Well. At least for Dani, that is. We were strolling through the next field, chatting away, when our path was suddenly blocked by a humongous bull. We decide to give him a wide berth, and begin picking our way across the rather boggy field. You can probably already predict how this is going to end...

Big Bull Energy

The bull turns to watch us, and this is just too much for Dani. Panic-stricken, she decides that the best course of action is to sprint straight into a giant bog. The bog was knee-deep, and so as she tried to run through it, she fell flat on her face. The more she panicked, the more she sank. Unable to really provide much assistance, I stood watching (and laughing at) the chaos before me. Eventually, she manages to crawl out of the bog, bringing at least half of the bog mud with her. Still keen to avoid an encounter with the bull, we rush across the remainder of the field, scaling a slippery bank to avoid more cows. Once safely through the next gate, we assessed the damage. Dani was covered from head to toe in bog mud. Not at all impressed, she tried to wash it off in a well-positioned stream. She obviously wasn't very enthused by the idea of wild camping covered in mud, so we contemplated finding somewhere with a shower to spend the night. We set our sights on the Station Lodge Hostel and continued our plod through more fields, more bogs, and more rain. By this stage, spirits were low, and we were struggling for motivation...

Stunning Scottish scenery to the rescue.

After walking through yet another stretch of uninspiring conifer plantations, we turn a corner and are faced with the most spectacular view of the wild Scottish highlands. Awe-struck, we stood for a little while to admire the sights. Our route goes straight through this dramatic landscape, and we begin to realise how much of a challenge we've set ourselves.

Motivation restored, we started down the path to Inverlair and bumped into an old man on a stroll up into the woods. He stops to chat and asks us about our journey. Clearly slightly concerned for our safety, he inquires whether we've definitely got enough food to last us through the next stretch of the route. He tells us that there's no shop or town within about a 20-minute drive of our current location. We reassure him that we're prepared, and then part ways. We had vague hopes that Inverlair Lodge may have accommodation, but as we walk past, it's clear that someone, very fortunate, has turned it into a family home. A little terrier barks fiercely at us as we pass by.

Next stop: Station Lodge Hostel.

To get to Station Lodge Hostel, we had to go quite a ways off-route. After multiple unsuccessful attempts to contact them and inquire whether they had space for us, we decided it was still worth the gamble. An age later, after hauling our backpacks up an endless hill, we arrived at the hostel to find out that it is only open in the summer... If you learn anything from reading this post, let it be that researching alternative accommodations prior to setting off on a very remote walk is probably a smart idea.

As the name suggests, Station Lodge Hostel is actually located next to the train line that runs from Fort William to Glasgow. We walked onto the platform to see if there happened to be a train passing through anytime soon. To our great surprise and delight, there actually was! Only an hour to kill, and we could catch the train to Roy Bridge. Luckily, Dani had phone reception and managed to find and book us a twin room at the Stronlossit Inn. While we waited, we cracked out Dani's Firemaple and made ourselves a cuppa. We rewarded our resilience with another chocolate rabbit lollipop.

Feeling grateful.

The train finally arrived, and we hopped on. A whole 10 minutes later, it was time to hop off again. We walked to the hotel, checked in, and headed up to our room. After only one night of wild camping, we were absolutely delighted by the prospect of a warm shower and a comfy bed. There was even a bath! After ruining the carpet with bog mud, we got cleaned up and headed down for dinner. We entered the dining room and were told by the barman/waiter/manager that we could choose any table that we liked. A small table right next to the roaring fire took our fancy, and we discussed drink and dinner options.

Dani had a £10 note gifted to her by her granddad to be spent only on an alcoholic beverage. Being in Scotland, it would've been rude not to try some whisky, so we asked the barman for recommendations. Little did we know that he was actually a whisky enthusiast, and about 20 minutes later, we finally had our glass of Bowmore whisky.

With bellies very full, feeling sick from the greasy food, we headed up to our cosy little room. Just as we were about to go to sleep, Dani announced that she felt like she was coming down with a virus, making us feel even more smug about our clever decision to book the hotel room.

Within about 10 minutes of getting into bed, Dani was fast asleep. I lay under my thick, fluffy duvet, thinking about the stark contrast between this and the night we'd spent camping out the day before. Feeling very grateful, I eventually drifted off to join Dani in Dreamland.

Reflections on the day.

Although this day definitely had more than its fair share of lows, we both felt that they made the highs even more special. Our decision to rest up before the next stretch of the path really did pay off because the friendly old man wasn't lying when he told us how remote this section was. If you want to find out just how remote, read all about it in next week's post. Tulloch to the middle of nowhere... Just kidding. To Moy Bridge.