{"id":1425,"date":"2015-05-17T20:26:34","date_gmt":"2015-05-17T20:26:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/aweewalk.com\/?p=1425"},"modified":"2018-04-17T16:29:27","modified_gmt":"2018-04-17T16:29:27","slug":"the-hardest-day","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/?p=1425","title":{"rendered":"The hardest day"},"content":{"rendered":"

I was awake until 1 a.m. uploading posts, which probably wasn’t the best way to prepare for the first day of my walk around the Cairngorm Mountains.<\/p>\n

The Cairngorms are Scotland’s biggest mountain range (although the country’s highest mountain, Ben Nevis, is not in them). They are Scotland’s winter playground and the main ski destination. One of Scotland’s two national parks is in them.<\/p>\n

The Cairngorms are like New Hamphire’s White Mountains–not terribly high, but with changeable and unpredictable weather, and a history of death among the ill-prepared and unlucky.<\/p>\n

I had to buy stove fuel and mail a package in Aviemore, where I’d spent the night at a B&B, so I got a late start. It was almost noon by the time I headed east down the road toward Coyluymbridge and Glenmore and then into the mountains.<\/p>\n

I took a cycling and walking path called the Old Logging Road that paralleled the auto route. It was flat and pretty nice. I passed a clay pigeon shooting range, a sledding area, a reindeer park, a cycling trail, an orienteering area, and the visitor center for the park. The last outpost of civilization was the National Outdoor Training Center, which is a place where you can spend nights and get instruction in various mountaineering sports and skills. It was about 2 o’clock and lunch service had stopped. Sale of “bar food” (as the sign said) wouldn’t begin until 5. I asked a friendly woman at the desk of the center whether there was any way to get hot food. Not unless I walked back from where I’d come from and went to the cafe at the park visitor center.<\/p>\n

Of course, by then it was raining. The prospect of walking back 15 minutes (even without my pack), spending at least 30 minutes getting lunch, and walking back to where I was just didn’t seem worth it. I knew I had a long way to go.\u00a0So I settled for two small packages of potato chips (“crisps”), then shouldered up and headed on.<\/p>\n

It was the usual two-rut track, climbing slowly and eventually turning more stony, which is hard on the feet even through hiking boots. \u00a0The road briefly turned downhill and crossed a stream. \u00a0Three tents were set up. \u00a0Two were closed. \u00a0In the entry to the other was a man working on his feet. \u00a0He didn’t look up and I didn’t stop.<\/p>\n

The trail became steep. \u00a0The wind picked up, blowing straight out of the west along the backside of the first rank of high mountains. I put on more clothing.<\/p>\n

The higher I climbed, the harder the wind blew. \u00a0The steeper the track became, the harder the wind blew. \u00a0It was directly into my right side and a few times it made me stumble sideways. \u00a0It was cold. \u00a0But at least it had stopped \u00a0raining.<\/p>\n

I flushed two grouse, who must have been \u00a0very disturbed by my presence because it was no weather for flying. \u00a0On many tracks this year I’ve flushed one (or, more often, a pair) every couple hundred yards or so.<\/p>\n

A peculiar attribute of these round-top hills is that you can rarely see the top from below. \u00a0In practice, that means that when you get to what appears to the highest spot it turns out to be only the brow of a ridge. \u00a0There is \u00a0another ascent, \u00a0set back just far enough to be invisible from below. \u00a0That was the case on this climb. \u00a0It went on forever.<\/p>\n

I got the pack down and put on a fleece hat and mittens. \u00a0It was in the low 40s or high 30s. \u00a0The cold drained the battery on the iPhone, so there aren’t many pictures.<\/p>\n

Finally, the ground leveled off. \u00a0To the west was the knife-edge ridge of mountain whose top was in the clouds. \u00a0Undoubtedly, in the right conditions some Challengers would peel off and climb it. \u00a0But not today. \u00a0The track was littered with pink granite boulders. \u00a0The grass tussocks were blown flat.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The track headed downhill. \u00a0I was hoping the bottom would be the Fords of Avon, which was my destination. \u00a0But I hadn’t looked at the map closely enough. \u00a0I had another climb. \u00a0And it was clear as I descended that the stream at the bottom wasn’t big enough to warrant a name on a map announcing it was fordable.<\/p>\n

The ascent wasn’t nearly as steep, but it was directly into the wind. \u00a0There was a hidden summit, but only one. \u00a0Then a descent with a hidden bottom. \u00a0But finally I saw a river and three green tents around a pile of rocks on grassy mound.<\/p>\n

The rocks turned out to be the buttressing of a “refuge,” which is a wooden box about one-third the size of a shipping container and not tall enough to stand up in. \u00a0It contains nothing but a logbook, a dust broom and two shovels. \u00a0It is meant to be emergency shelter for hikers and skiiers–enough to save a life, and nothing more.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I looked inside and saw a man and three women, who had stoves out and had finished cooking and eating. \u00a0It was raining again. \u00a0I exchanged a few sentences with the man about the wind at the top. \u00a0He estimated it at 50 mph, which was my guess.<\/p>\n

It was difficult to set up the tent, which I put close to the rock pile, although I was not truly in the lee. \u00a0I brought my stove and food inside the refuge and made dinner. \u00a0The man by then had retired, but the two women were still there and we introduced each ourselves. \u00a0They were Stella and Viv. \u00a0They soon retired.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

By the time I was on the tea course, however, they were back in the refuge. \u00a0The wind had plastered the fly onto the roof of their tent, and water was working its way under and into it. \u00a0 Plus the floor \u00a0wasn’t waterproof. \u00a0They decided to spend the night in the refuge.<\/p>\n

So we talked because it was a little early to go to bed and there was nothing else to do. \u00a0But then what’s better than talking when you know nothing about the person you’re talking to?<\/p>\n

Both the women are from Devon, in southwest England. \u00a0They met in 1982 when they both became Hash House Harriers, which is a kind of running, eating and drinking activity.<\/p>\n

Viv Horton, 70, was a retired teacher of social work at the University of Plymouth. \u00a0Stella Rasdall, 69, is a nurse, was one of the first hospice nurses in England (back in the day of Brompton’s cocktail) and is now a counselor in a primary care medical practice. \u00a0Both are on second marriages, with their own children, step children, and grandchildren.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Stella on left, Viv on right.<\/p>\n

This is their first Challenge, although like so many Challengers they have a long history of hard and daring activity behind them.<\/p>\n

Viv, who has a sharp eagle-like face, worked in Kazhakstan in 2000-2002 for Voluntary Service Overseas–Britain’s equivalent of the Peace Corps. \u00a0She did “community development” among women with dependent children living in dormitories of factories that had closed down after the collapse of the Soviet Union. \u00a0About half were ethnic Russians, the rest Kazakhs and Uzbeks.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

When she was finished, she and another women bicycled from Kazakhstan to Northern Italy (with a train trip througfh Uzbekistan, which was considered unsafe). \u00a0It took two and one-half months, and was done, \u00a0Viv said, to help them process what they had done and to ease the return to the developed world (“as it calls itself,” Viv noted). \u00a0Stella joined them in Istanbul, and pedaled with them to Thessalonika, Greece.<\/p>\n

Stella’s husband had done the Challenge in 2003. \u00a0Viv and Stella had come to Scotland to do some hillwalking last year and met some Challengers. \u00a0Stella proposed they do it together.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

“I hold her entirely responsible that I’m stuck in a hut on a cold night,” Viv said.<\/p>\n

Inevitably, we talked about why a \u00a0person would decide to do this. \u00a0Not surprisingly, like most Challengers I’ve met they gave thoughtful answers.<\/p>\n

They stipulated the walk was hard. \u00a0Viv said she’d passed part of that day thinking of people who had harder and unchosen (or semi-chosen) physical trials. \u00a0Prisoners of war forced to march or work when they were ill and starved. \u00a0Solo sailors going around Cape Horn and being dismasted.<\/p>\n

“It is extraordinary the resilience and tenacity and perseverence that people can bring to bear,” Viv said.<\/p>\n

“There is also the ‘Rage, rage against the dying of the light’,” said Stella.<\/p>\n

“And older people can be quite competitive,” Viv said.<\/p>\n

“In a way, you’ve got more stamina when you’re older, or more determination, more patience,” Stella said.<\/p>\n

“And you have the kind of confidence that things will work out that comes with age,” Viv said.<\/p>\n

I asked about this.<\/p>\n

“If you’re essentially an optimistic person, and have gotten to a certain age, you’ve had all sorts of ups and downs. \u00a0You realize you’ll be okay. \u00a0That you’ll be warm and dry.”<\/p>\n

This is an interesting and even profound observation. \u00a0At the least, it’s a good explanation for why the Challenge appeals to so many older people.<\/p>\n

I thanked them for talking to me, and retired to the tent. \u00a0It blew a gale during the night. \u00a0The nylon fly rattled against the tent roof with a metallic sound.<\/p>\n

When I got up all the tents were gone except one, which was empty. \u00a0Just before I left it started to snow. \u00a0Just to show who was boss.<\/p>\n

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 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I was awake until 1 a.m. uploading posts, which probably wasn’t the best way to prepare for the first day of my walk around the Cairngorm Mountains. The Cairngorms are Scotland’s biggest mountain range (although the country’s highest mountain, Ben Nevis, is not in them). They are Scotland’s winter playground and the main ski destination. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1425","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-scotland2","post-preview"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1425","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1425"}],"version-history":[{"count":22,"href":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1425\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2638,"href":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1425\/revisions\/2638"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1425"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1425"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1425"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}