Blog detailing my walks through Australia and England. In Australia I've completed the Sunshine Hinterland Great Walk, 6 Ft Track and Great Ocean Road. In England I've walked the Pennine Way, the Cotswold Way as well as numerous weekend walks in the Peak District. This summer I completed the 1200 Mile jaunt from Land's End to John o'Groats. I blunder along most of the time, I've still got a lot to learn, but I want to use this blog to share my passion and reflect on what I've learned.
"The Karrimor Barbuda D30 Mens Sandals have been
designed for walking holidays thanks to a waterproof Wolverine leather
upper and a D30 cushioning system for shock absorbency and support.
These Karrimor sandals sport a moulded footbed with cushioning underfoot, and are complete with a Phylon midsole and Vibram outer grip."
> Mens sandals > Three touch and close straps
> Waterproof Wolverine leather
> D30 cushioning system
> Supportive footbed
> Phylon midsole
> Vibram outsole
> Leather/Textile upper, Synthetic inner and sole
Day 31- Woods approaching Swinscoe
I bought these for the evenings so that my feet would have a chance to breathe after a day of hiking boots. When I discovered that the waterproof hiking boots I wore were more like a sponge for any passing clump of moisture I had little choice but to wear the sandals on the trail. Best discovery of the walk. Ten miles in the sandals, ten miles in the boots and my feet didn't ache half as much. From then on I wore them for vast parts of the day on top of the evening strolls around town. They also rendered my gaters useless as they were much more affective in moor land: I would wear them through the water before changing back into my boots on drier ground. They took less than half an hour to dry and were easily washed by any convinient stream of puddle.
Day 62- Dornoch, day off paddling in the sea
The sandals themselves are sturdy things, and still going strong. The straps were put under heavy strain, sometimes supporting my considerable weight as I edged down steep hills. The souls are on the thinner side, but some of this is to do with weight. If they had been heavier the sandals would have weighed too much to carry on top of my boots and other equipment. Not sure about the advertised D30 cushioning system, they didn't give the support my hiking boots provided but how could they at half the weight and a third of the price? All in all they were perfect for the job, a very well made and affordable pair of sandals, I can confidently recommend for men and women.
Day 72- John o'Groats- the end! 1200 miles walked from Land's End and the sandals still going strong
I contacted easyacc in the hope that they would support me by providing an external battery for my 1200 mile charity walk from Land's End to John o'Groats. I planned to navigate by using GPS and ViewRanger maps, all of which are on my phone. Without power I would be lost in a matter of minutes. I was also using my phone to take photos and update my blog on a daily basis- the phone has a eight hour battery life when using GPS. I planned to wild camp at least a third of the time I needed a reliable power source that would last two to three days.
They provided me with EasyAcc 2nd Gen. Classic 15600mAh Power Bank-
Material
PC+ABS
Dimension
159*63*24 (mm)
Output
DC 5V/2.1A (max)
Input
DC 5V/2A
Weight
339 (g)
Battery cell
Lithium-ion
Power
15600 (mAh)
Product Certification
CE FCC RoHS
My EasyAcc battery was used consistently over 72 days hiking. It was exposed to the outdoors and dropped a number of times on tarmac, mud and damp dank marsh lands and never faultered. It charges my Sony Xperia z2 about three and a half times. This number of charges did not alter through out the walk even with constant usage. It has two plugs so you can charge a few things at once. It doesn't allow you to charge the battery from devises while it is itself charging and be warned it does take around five to six hours to charge the power pack. Best is to leave it overnight. For those who have old fashioned Ipod classics- it wont charge it. Its worth noting, though, that a lot of modern chargers are too powerful to charge the old ipods and its not a problem unique to this device. I had to stop and buy myself a really cheap charger at Asda which did the job brilliantly.
Wild camping along the Shropshire Way
While a little heavy for hiking it would be perfect for everyday life, and even hiking it makes every ounce count. I remained charged the entire way. I went three of four days once without seeing a plug socket, and when I knew a campsite wasn't far off I had enough power to watch several episodes of Buffy in my tent. Moreover, its a black brick that looks like an internet port, whose going to steal it? I left it in toilets, on shelves and in garages as it charged over night without a problem. It fits in my pocket while I walk so I can charge my devices on the move and is tough enough to take the occasional pump when I forgot and pulled my phone out too fast. Its a brilliant piece of kit.
"Stay
warmer, drier and more comfortable than those wearing standard down on
your next hike with the water resistant Women’s Scafell Hydrodown™ Jacket.
The Scarfell is constructed from lightweight, water resistant and highly wind resistant AF™ fabric and insulated with our innovative 600 fill water resistant Hydrodown™ this results in a versatile and packable insulation layer with a space on all your trail adventures."
Weight (approx.): 348g
Protection from the worst conditions is achieved with the high wind resistance of the AF™ fabric and the innovative water resistant 600 fill Hydrodown™
Essentials can be kept close at hand in the two concealed zipped hand warmer pockets
A comfortable fit is ensured with the stretch bound cuffs and draw cord hem adjustment
This was my first down jacket and I was bawled over at how light, compact and warm it was. I wore it out and about before the walk in early February and found myself warm, breathable and flexible. When scrunched up it became tiny and at 348g weighed the same as a summer T-shirt. A perfect coat for winter walking and carrying through summer months to wear at night. I barely wore it during the daytime as it would have been far too warm but at night time it was imperative. A few nights in early May reached 0 degrees and even in a 4 season (relative cheap) sleeping bag I needed this coat to get some rest. Even in July it was a perfect shield from the night's chill, and comfortable enough to sleep in. The pockets in particular are genius, surprisingly big and seeming to warm my hands instantly. When it was warm enough for me to sleep in only a T-shirt I used it was a pillow.
Day 72- JOHN O"GROATS!!!
For 70 days I carried it with me, this alone shows it's value. Figure wise it is as flattering as it can be, I still look like a round tube wearing it but mainly because I'm round enough to begin with. The zips are tiny but reliable, while the collar is soft around the neck and a good size. My rain coat goes over it comfortably, the sleeves are elasticated and insulating. Even in heavy rain and when wet it dried very quickly keeping me warm and the moisture away from my skin. As for durability- it survived Land's End to John o'Groats and looks the same at the finish line as it did at the start. I will report back after each long distance walk as to how its faring. Its a carefully made high quality product and I suspect it will last a long time even with my rough handling.
East Aquhorthies Stone Circle- Bennachie in the far far right corner
Once picked up from John o'Groats I was driven back down to Aberdeen and the wonderful house of my Auntie Jackie. My knees were in a lot of discomfort and I was shattered, that said the only thing which eased the joints was walking. Jakie is a ranger and incredibly knowledgeable on the natural world around her. In the three days I stayed there I learned a wonderful amount about Scotland and the different animals around the place.
On one of these outings we made the climb through Bennachie and
From the top of Mither Tap
Mither Tap. At 528 meters (1733 feet) it was a good afternoon climb, with a few stops before hand to observe the stone circles which were dotted around the place. The summit itself holds the ruins of a Roman ford, or so they suspect, the walls still thick around the top, stone rubble cascading down the place. Its unknown whether there was an actual settlement inside the wall but the wind is harsh and its easy to understand why they might have stayed away. The lands around the place used to be common property before the lords decided to divide it up between them and charge rent. Here and there are signs giving
a brief history of the place.
Auntie Jackie on the top of Mithers Tap
The car park was already packed when we arrived and the Maiden's Causeway up to the slopes was full of families on outings making the pace slow. Miaden Causeway is part of another folks tale. A maiden is approached by a handsome gentleman who claims he can build a path all the way up to Mithers Tap overnight to help her brothers on their farm land, she doesn't believe him and they agree to barter her hand in marriage or possibly simply her maiden hood. He comes back the next day with the path built but as he transforms into the Devil she turns and runs. He grabs her and carried her away. There is the Maiden Stone lower down the slopes with a bit missing where the poor girl was grabbed and then turned to stone.
Mither Tap from Creighnathunter
Soon enough we overtook most and had a clear view up to the summit. Without a backpack I thought I'd manage the walk easily but I hadn't reckoned on Jackie's pace and struggled a little, my pride preventing me from asking her to slow down. We made it to the top in double quick time to spend a very enjoyable half hour with a pair of very expensive binoculars. We walked down the steeper slopes of Bennachie into Creignathunter Forest and round over Maiden Castle back to the car park. In all it took us around three hours but that's with a lot of stopping and relaxing along the way. By the time I got back my joints felts eased and I enjoyed a long bath- a luxury not allowed along the trail.
Here is a song centered around the area:
Lang Johnny Moir
Lang Johnny Moir
There lives a man in Rhynie's land and another in Auchendore,
But the bravest lad amang them a' was lang Johnny Moir.
Young Johnny was an airy blade, fu' sturdy, stout and strang,
And the sword that hung fae Johnny's side was just full ten feet lang.
Ha-diddle-da, ha-diddle-da-da, ha-diddle-da, ha-diddle-day.
Young Johnny's gane tae London toon in the springtime o' the year,
And there he's met and fa'en in love wi' the king's ain daughter dear,
And word has gone tae the king himsel' and an angry man was he.
We'll pit her in a prison, strang high hangit he will be.
Ha-diddle-da, ha-diddle-da-da, ha-diddle-da, ha-diddle-day.
The English dogs were cunning rogues and about him they did creep,
And they gave him drops of laudamy that laid him fast asleep.
And when Johnny awakened frae his sleep, a sorry heart had he,
Wi' his twa hands in iron bands and his feet in fetters three.
Ha-diddle-da, ha-diddle-da-da, ha-diddle-da, ha-diddle-day.
And he has got a little wee boy would work for meat and fee.
"Gae rin tae my auld uncle there at the fit o' Bennachie."
When the wee boy came tae Bennachie, he did neither chap nor call,
But he went straight tae auld Johnny there, three feet abune them a'.
Auld Johnny 's read the letter then sealed wi' Johnny's faith and troth,
And he's cried fae the tap o' Bennachie for his kinsman Jock o' North.
Then on the plain these champions met, twa grisly sights tae see.
There were three feet between their brows, their shoulders were yards three.
Ha-diddle-da, ha-diddle-da-da, ha-diddle-da, ha-diddle-day.
And when they came tae London toon, the yetts were locked wi' bands,
And guarded weel wi' armed men wi' broadswords in their hands.
"Ye'll open the yetts" says Jock o' North "Ye'll open them at my call",
And wi' his fit he has drave in three brave yards o' the wall.
And then they gaed doon by Drury lane and doon by the town ha',
And they have freed young Johnny Moir and for the king did call.
"Bri
Ha-diddle-da, ha-diddle-da-da, ha-diddle-da, ha-diddle-day.
Then they have gaen before the king wi' courage bold and free,
Their armour bright cast such a light, it almost dimmed his e'e.
"Now where's the lady" cries Jock o' North "for fain I would her see,
For we are come tae her weddin' fae the fit o' Bennachie."
Ha-diddle-da, ha-diddle-da-da, ha-diddle-da, ha-diddle-day.
"Oh tak' the lady" says the king "The boy too shall go free".
"A priest, a priest" then Johnny cries "tae join my love and me."
Then they've ta'en the lady by the hand and they've set her prison free,
And wi' drums beatin' and fifes playin', they've spent the night wi' glee.
Ha-diddle-da, ha-diddle-da-da, ha-diddle-da, ha-diddle-day.
The auld Johnny Moir, and young Johnny Muir and Jock o' North, all three,
The English lady and the little wee boy went a' tae Bennachie.
Ha-diddle-da, ha-diddle-da-da, ha-diddle-da, ha-diddle-day.
I can't believe its here! The final day. By tomorrow I'll have nothing to do but sit and wait for the car. I was half excited and half disbelieving. I packed up without thinking and left, walking along the River Wick back into Wick for breakfast at Weatherspoons. I'd woken at 6:30 for the first time in weeks after going to sleep later than ever, so I reached Weatherspoons too early and had to wait for a while.
After breakfast I headed out of town, passing the massive supermarket and joining the A99 again. The first part of the morning was rather awkward, hitting quite a lot of traffic. I crossed the road a number of times trying to stay ahead of the curving road. Eventually the traffics drawn away and your left with only the occasional car and passing cyclist. Cyclists this far along are only doing one thing, I wished good luck to all those going south and waved congratulations to those on the last few miles north.
I was tired half way through the day, and struggled a little to get momentum. I'd already finished the
walk in my head. As I approached John o'Groats I waited for the rush of joy, or euphoria which I'd imagined a hundred times over since leaving Land's End. Nothing. I walked on into the outskirts of John o'Groats and looked down towards the Orkney Islands. They are a stunning sight, and while the town is small its not as unpleasant as the guide books suggest. I had a choice to walk to camp and make the last few miles to Duncansby Head tomorrow, in the end to turned right and followed the lane away from town. I wanted it to all be finished so tomorrow I could lounge about waiting for my lift.
Its a flat enough route to Duncansby Head but I felt every meter, reaching it exhausted. The light house, built in 1924, is a pretty enough building but the beauty of the spot is the coast line and bird sanctuary. Thirle Door and the Stacks of Duncansby are wonderfully reminiscent of the 12 apostles at the end of the Great Ocean Road Walk in Australia. I stood listening to the birds for a while, lay on the grass and tried to get around the idea it was over. In Wild she gases up into the heavens and whispers thanks repetitively in a holy manner. All I felt was fed up that now it was all over I still had another two miles to walk back to John o'Groats to camp.
Duncansby Head
Thirle Doors and the Stacks
Once pitched and showered I wondered round a little. Tourists came and went in their truck loads,
all posing on my sign till I gave up trying to take my own picks and retreated for food. It felt silly in
any case, especially alone and with strangers taking photos. Instead I sought my certificate from one of the shops, and was given it my a nice pimply teenager with writing as jaggedly my brothers for 80p. The sun was high and it was a lovely day in which to rest outside. The Cabin at John o'Groats is a lovely little shack, run by a couple that work the entire summer without a day off before going abroad in the winter. She gave me a cup of tea on the house and I happily munched down fish and chips with onion rings. The last really unhealthy meal I had a right to eat guilt free.
The Official End of Land's End John o'Groats
John o'Groats Campsite
Just before bed I met a cyclist off to the Orkney Islands, I thought she looked wonderful, like the adventurer I try to pose as. A little bit of me felt jealous of her forth coming trip although most just felt relieved it was over. I showered and went to bed, eager to get to sleep early to wake up at two and watch the dawn.
When dawn came I opened the flap and peered out, surprised to find light already spreading across the sky. For an hour and a half I lay in my sleeping my staring out and listening to the world wake. It was wonderfully calming, and exactly what I needed. When I drifted back to sleep at 4 it was with the first tinges of pride and feelings of accomplishment. I felt more relaxed and content than I'd been all year.
I woke up with trepidation this morning, gingerly crawling from my tent and lowering my feet to the ground. Nothing. No pain just a little tenderness. Hoping this would last I packed up and collecting my EasyAcc battery from reception before leaving camp. For the first mile or so every part of me was focused on the slightest twinge from my foot. As the boots hadn't helped much yesterday I wore my sandals from the go, took it very slowly and swallowed two ibuprofen.
The A9 no more, A99 from now on
The road from here is straight and even, farm houses drifted by but no other landmarks to break up the day. I pushed through Latheron onto Lybster before stopping for supplies. The town is off the main road my a kilometer or so and walking down towards the sea stopped at the post office and bought a supply of bourbons and crisps. The crisps proved a mistake, far too greasy. I wondered back towards the A9 along a parallel side lane till Mavesy. Then the roads goes ever onward, still straight with just a few farms. I didn't mind so much, my foot was fine and I could walk without too much effort.
At one point a couple of lamps came running up to the farm fence across the road, they did it with such open command that I crossed to see what was up. The boldest raised himself up on its hind legs, its front hoofs on the fence in an effort to get close. I stroked it uncertain of how you're meant to stroke a lamb, its friend joining in with enthusiasm, I felt rather honored by the encounter. Later a flock of young calves chased me from the other side of the fence, making me grateful for the barbed wire. That was it in a way of nature. I got a thrill as a joined the A99, the A9 curving inland to the north coast. The sign with John o'Groats only had Wick and Thorps left, 35 miles to go!
Wick came into view as a welcome relief, and following the signs I found my way to the Wick Caravan Campsite, paid their extortionate fee and set up camp. The showers were small and scruffy, but the lawn flat and even so it wasn't so bad.
In town there is meant to be the Northern most Weatherspoons and I was tempted to go find it and have a proper meal (well as broad a term as that is when it concerns Weatherspoons). The walk into town was more than worth the effort, the camp along the Wick River, the path crossing it before reaching the center.
River Wick
With all the bad things you can say about Weatherspoons they are usually in grand old buildings, they don't blast loud music at you, you can sit for hours without been bothered, quick internet and cheap drinks. You wont gleam much about the local culture, or leave with an 'experience' as such but for a tired walker it was just what the doctor ordered. I downloaded a load of things on my Spotiffy account for the next day and talked to my brother in America using Skype. I left at the shockingly late time of ten, been treated to an even more stunning view while recrossing the river. 18 miles tomorrow, 22 when if I walk from John o'Groats to Duncansby Head and back.
Today was hard. Harder than any other day so far and it had nothing to do with the actual road or land around me. Within a mile of camp my left foot started to be in real pain. There was no fall or twist, but hot fire seemed to have spread on the top and in step of the foot which meant every time I pointed my toes ever so slightly at the end of each stride shooting pains went up my leg. It got worse the longer I walked and I ended up limping and leaning on my poles. I tried tightening my shoes to give it extra support but it only made it worse, the extra pressure causing a constant dull pain. For ten miles I continued, head bowed. I'd not carried any pain killers as I'd not needed them for the last few months. I hoped to find a small shop in Helmsdale but after reaching it saw little on the main street and simply walked through, pausing as I climbed back out of the town to change my boots to sandals. Some relief, but by this point the pain was constant. Walking flat stretched of road and down hill were the worst.
Cooking pasta at the end of the day in my tent
The day dragged and I made horribly slow progress, covering just over 2 miles an hour. The road around Berriedale was very steep and zigzagging hard to walk on: I constantly had to switch sides and hope that drivers would be sensible around corners. They were, and after rejecting another kindly offered lift I made it to the home straights. From Berriedale the road stops trying to kill you and straightens out along the coast. Then at the twenty mile mark something truly wonderful happened: my foot stopped hurting. The caught nerve uncaught or something and I no longer needed to limp. Relieved that the next few days wouldn't be filled with pain I completed the last few miles to camp and dumped my things. I stopped in a campsite just on the other side of Dunbeath, a very neat and loved place with unusually stylish showers and facilities.
In the shower I sat on the floor and waited for my muscles to ease for well over half an hour. Without realizing it I'd walked tense the entire day and it had totally drained me. Before camp I'd finally found a shop and bought some ibuprofen which would help tomorrow if things hadn't changed. Cleaned I slumped back to my tent, ate and drifted off to sleep dreading tomorrow and hoping that my foot would behave itself. IN my sleeping back it still refused to allow me to point my toes, it didn't hurt while immobile but I dreaded tomorrow. 22 miles to Wick would not be fun if things stayed the same.
Just out of Dornoch, heading north towards Loch Fleet
Quite a pleasant day, structured in a manner I'd never tried before. I set off late at 9 and walked the twelve or so miles to Golspie by 1:30. There I stopped to watch the Wimbledon final in a lovely family run pud. I left again at 17:40 with another six or so miles to walk to Brora Caravan site club on the northern side of Brora. It was nine when I reached camp and my body couldn't work out if it had had an easy or hard days walking.
Loch Fleet starting to appear up ahead
The lane skirting along the coast from Dornoch is quite pretty, straight north it cuts out the curves of the coast, bypassing Embo and heading straight to Loch Fleet. The Loch is a beautiful side, mist hanging low of the water casting everything into monotone. Another kind passerby offered me a list and once again I refused explaining I couldn't without wrecking all my efforts the last two and a half months.
Once I'd rejoined the A9 crossing The Mount my lovely lane walking became a thing of the past and the dreaded road stretch began. The guide books had described it with such creative horror that I'd expected high roads with motorway traffic rushing past 60miles an hour. On the most part the roads were clear and if I walked towards the traffic I could watch their approach and wear head phones without endangering myself. Moreover the drivers were all passing me with extreme care. I began to sing along to 'Show me the Way to go Home' and followed up by an acapella performance on the side of the road, quite happy with the world.
Loch Fleet
The A9 stretches on but a side verge took me away from the worst of the traffic allowing me to walk with ease. I switched sides when the corners demanded it, mostly I put my head down and pushed on grinning whenever a sign past with the ever dwindling number of places and miles till the end point. I was dreading injury more and more now, something which would stop me from completing something I'd doubted I'd manage.
Federer and Djokovic played a hell of a match, the whole pub supporting Federer even though he'd
knocked Murray out. Even when the place officially shut they didn't have the heart to push me out till the end of the match which I was very grateful for. Federer lost but fighting and with his usual style, poor Djokovic won largely unappreciated by everyone present. Seems awfully unfair. I didn't like him when he first entered the scene, probably because of him beating Murray far too often but Federer has the same nasty habit and I think he's great.
Dunrobin Castle and Gardens
The last stretch goes off road for a little while, twisting past Dunrobin Castle and along the coast.
Dunrobin Castle is home of Clan Surtherlandruly, an impressive building with the grandeur of European castles and gardens of the English gentry. It's also the largest and the most northerly great house in Scotland with the oldest continuous inhabitants. They were known for shipping many of the land owners around them to America, seizing their lands. Who says nastiness doesn't pay in the long run?
From the castle I walked along the coast enjoying great views back towards its imposing presence, high up behind it on the Ben Bhraggie hill the100 foot statue of the first Duke of Sutherland staring down at his lands. It made me think of Terry Pratchet's Jingo, the statue of Tacticus with 'I can see Your House From Up Here' written underneath as both a threat and boast to the people he conquered
Along the coast looking back to Dunrobin Castle
Dunrobin Castle with the statue tiny on the hill above it
When I reached camp reception was closed and following the signs instructions I set pitch and got on with preparing for bed. The field was largely empty so I was a little put out when late comers decided to pitch right next to my tent and made a tone of noise late into the night. What do they think camping is? A social event? I'm going to become such a crabby old woman at this rate.
