{"id":4710,"date":"2024-05-16T09:09:54","date_gmt":"2024-05-16T09:09:54","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/?p=4710"},"modified":"2025-01-14T20:39:58","modified_gmt":"2025-01-14T20:39:58","slug":"companions","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/?p=4710","title":{"rendered":"Companions"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

As noted, I picked this year\u2019s route because I thought there was a good chance of meeting people along it. I have not been disappointed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

One\u2019s reaction to chance encounters is usually \u201cnot enough\u201d rather than \u201ctoo much.\u201d Of course, how could it be otherwise? Too much, then just walk on. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

One also realizes there\u2019s a big world out there in purpose and direction, not just identity and timing. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The first person I met on the trail was Hugh from Leicester. He\u2019d done two or three crossings, was serious but not obsessed, fast. I wanted to know more of his story but I haven\u2019t seen him since the morning after the first night when he was packing up beside the sea loch. I hope I see him again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The next person I encountered was Mikhail. He was going in the opposite direction from me, so unlikely to be a Challenger. It turns out he\u2019s Polish and headed to Cape Wrath, most northwest point in Scotland. Could there be a better named place?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There is no no single route to Cape Wrath, only headings. Mikhail was not going the whole way. He planned to get off the train closer to the coast but got impatient. He got off at Ft. William.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201dI just decided to come on this way,\u201d he said. He\u2019s going to be out six days, no time to waste.(So much for meticulous route planning, which is the way of the Challenge.) <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt is so beautiful here,\u201d he said in barely accented English. \u201cWe don\u2019t have this at home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Not long after, I ran into two more men heading in the opposite direction from me. I was surprised to see that one of them was barefoot. He\u2019s Roy, an Israeli. The other man is from France; I didn\u2019t catch his name. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Roy said he was tired in walking in wet feet. You can see how small a \u201ckit\u201d ( as they call it here) he has. You can hardly see his backpack. He\u2019s never been to the United States, but is coming next year to hike the Pacific Crest Trail\u2014Canada to Mexico down the West Coast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Roy plans to make Cape Wrath in 10 days, the Frenchman in 14. A chance encounter, they\u2019ve been walking together for 36 hours, but will soon part ways. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Farther along, I met Jessica from Amsterdam. She said she\u2019d just finished bathing in a pool of frigid, tannin-stained water in a stream the path crossed. She had a Garmin beacon like the one I\u2019d bought. We agreed the instruction manual, in six languages, was no help, although she\u2019d managed to figure out more than I (no surprise).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That night I had three fishermen as neighbors at the east end of Loch Arkaig. I was over a hump in the shoreline; I don\u2019t think they even knew I was there. Their camp included an elaborately protected privy. This man was heading to it as I left.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

This was the day I left the road and went up the hillside to get a cell signal so I could order a replacement keyboard from Apple. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

(It\u2019s arrived, but I can\u2019t connect it despite following the directions, which are in seven languages. It\u2019s a \u201cmagic keyboard”; all I wanted was one that worked. This is a disappointment but not a surprise; see \u201cwaterproof\u201d boots in a previous post).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After a tiring day\u2014the hillside was trackless and I had to walk along the fall line of the slope\u2014I got to a forest road and started to look for a place to camp. I didn’t find one, but I did find a bird-watching blind the forestry company had put up. There was a nice view, but no eagles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

I proceeded downhill to the lakeside, hoping to find an acceptably private stretch of shore. They were hard to find. I eventually rounded a corner and saw a tent on a patch of grass next to a rocky foreshore. Beyond it was a small peninsula that might have dry ground. A man and woman were sitting outside the tent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWould you mind if I looked for a pitch out there?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou on the Challenge?\u201d the man asked. I nodded. He gave me a thumbs-up sign. \u201cThere\u2019s room right here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The right here was right next to their tent. I hoped they weren\u2019t on their honeymoon. I protested, then thanked them, then stepped off the road onto the patch of grass, and heaved off my pack.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He was Graeme Dunshire, on his 16th crossing. The woman was Liz, his longtime companion, whose last name I don\u2019t know. She\u2019s accompanying him for a week, not the whole Challenge, as she has commitments at home,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was appreciative of their generous gift to me of their privacy. Before bed I gave them a bag of homemade gorp\u2014quite tasty and famous among my outing friends\u2014of which I had an extra. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Graeme and Liz turned out to delightful and helpful travel companions, even though we didn\u2019t travel together. Graeme is a builder and joiner; he told me to look out for house he\u2019d worked on that I\u2019d pass that morning. I don\u2019t know what Liz does.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The next morning they headed off before me. Soon after I started I met a man named Tim, also on the Challenge. We got into deep conversation and eventually got a bridge and waterfall that seemed like a good place to stop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Graeme and Liz were there. Graeme graciously pointed out we\u2019d missed a turn a while back that was going to take us on our route, which was different from theirs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Tim and I turned around and got back on the right route. We walked and talked. It was a nice morning, intermittently sunny with no rain in the air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019d seen the designation for a museum coming up on the map and mentioned I\u2019d like to stop. Tim was game , but more interested in coffee and ice cream, which he\u2019d been told was on offer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We got there before it opened and sat at a picnic table. Soon a car with two people appeared. Soon after so did Graeme and Liz, from a different way About 10 minutes before the official opening time a young man came out and said we could come in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I thought the topic was going to be about commando and other World War 2 training that had taken place on the estate, but it turned out it was the museum of the Clan Cameron, whose home grounds we were on. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Camerons have a complicated history I only vaguely understand. They were mortal enemies of a couple of other Highland clans, and supporters of the Catholic Stuarts and their attempt to reclaim the English and Scottish thrones in the person of Bonnie Prince Charlie. They struck me a bit like the Indians who fought on the side of the French in the French and Indian War. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The prince\u2019s invasion and uprising failed, but that wasn\u2019t the end of the clan. It spurred emigration and there are now millions of Camerons around the world. The museum is a bit of a Mecca for them. Here\u2019s a map of the homes of Cameron-blooded visitors to it; they\u2019re the black pins. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The commonness of Scottish ancestry in the U.S. and Canada is evident.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

One of the visitors was another Challenger who looked like he\u2019d stepped out of one of the paintings. (You\u2019re hard core when you don\u2019t even take off your pack.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

We all had some snacks and headed off in different directions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Amazingly, a couple of days later I was coming down off a ridge to Loch Ossian. I saw two people heading toward me at a place where several trails converged.
They crossed a small bridge. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was Graeme and Liz again, heading on a different route, but still eastward, of course.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Some people surprise you on the trail. I walked around a corner in a forest track and came across \u201cthe wee minister.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A sign said a previous sculpture in metal had been destroyed in the 1970s. (No mention whether it had been an an act of God or man.) This was the replacement. I put all the coins in my pocket in his collection box. It\u2019s supposed to be good luck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There are fleeting companions. I thought I was in the middle of nowhere<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

when I heard a distant rumbling and in a few minutes this came by.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

There are some companions you never see. I got to the foot of Loch Treig about 7 o\u2019clock and really wanted to stop. It was drizzling. I looked around for a water source but couldn\u2019t find one other than the loch, which required going across a swampy shore.

The person in the tent at the extreme left might have had an idea. But nobody came out as I walked around, and I didn\u2019t want to disturb them, so I walked on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

There are people who you\u2019d like to get to know better, like these guys taking a smoke break outside the village shop in Kinloch Ranoch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The most memorable companions, however, are those with whom you share distilled accounts of important experiences and history.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tim and started out with small talk about routes and equipment, as is often the case. His pack was on the bigger side of the bell curve, but nothing like mine. I asked how much it weighed. He didn\u2019t know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI fill it with what I need and that\u2019s the last I think about it,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We talked about tents, and the trade off between a light one and a comfortable one. He has a Hileberg, as do I\u2014a Swedish beauty that used to be considered light but, comparatively, is no longer. He bought his in the 1980s with the 50-pound inheritance his father, a coal miner in Nottingham, had left him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tim\u2019s father was one of \u201cBevin\u2019s Boys,\u201d named after Ernest Bevin, who was Minister of Labour and National Service during World War 2. They were young men persuaded (and some eventually conscripted) to go into the mines when Britain\u2019s coal production lagged. He worked there for more than 40 years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tim went on a school field trip down into a mine when he was 15. He couldn\u2019t imagine working there. Instead, he worked at the post office for more than 30 years before retiring a few years ago. He now does part-time maintenance and ushering at Albert Hall in Nottingham, and hospitality for the city\u2019s football club. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tim grew up in council housing and knew nothing about camping or hillwalking as a child. But he knew he wanted to see Scotland, so he took a trip there when he got out of school at age 17.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI would look up at the hills and say to myself, \u2018I wonder what it\u2019s like up there.\u2019 I had no idea you could actually go up on them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In Braemar, he met an Australian couple from Melbourne. David was a printer and Caroline was a librarian. He talked with them and they told him they spent the free time and money they had traveling the world, seeing things and going to places they’d never get to unless it was by specific intention.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI never realized you could live a life like that,\u201d Tim said. \u201cIt had never occurred to me it was possible.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After that, Tim started hillwalking. He corresponded with David and Caroline and they invited him to come to Australia, which he did for one of his holidays in the 1980s. About 10 years later, he took unpaid leave from his job and went again, for a couple of months.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOne of my mates at work said, \u2018What are you doing<\/em> taking unpaid leave.\u2019 I was 33. I told him, \u2018I\u2019ll never be this age or this fit again. I\u2019m just going to go\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tim does hillwalking when he can. He belongs to an outdoor club in Nottingham.
He\u2019s 56 and this is fourth Challenge. His aged mother is looking after his dog while he\u2019s on this one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I asked him if David and Caroline are still alive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d he said. \u201cThey changed my life.\u201d His eyes filled with tears. I asked if he still kept in touch with them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d he said. \u201cThey\u2019re coming over in June.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

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

As noted, I picked this year\u2019s route because I thought there was a good chance of meeting people along it. I have not been disappointed. One\u2019s reaction to chance encounters is usually \u201cnot enough\u201d rather than \u201ctoo much.\u201d Of course, how could it be otherwise? Too much, then just walk on. One also realizes there\u2019s […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[25],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4710","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-scotland-6","post-preview"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4710","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=4710"}],"version-history":[{"count":23,"href":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4710\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5279,"href":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4710\/revisions\/5279"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4710"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4710"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aweewalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4710"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}