The Great Outdoors Challenge 1995
Geoff Reed’s account
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Day 0
Thursday 11th May – Bristol to Oban
The foundations for this crossing were laid not in the dark winter nights spent planning, nor in the training and other preparation, but in the bar at Bristol Airport. Ironically the room that once was the bar, since redevelopment, has been a large training / conference room where I occasionally run training sessions. I always feel so at home in there mmmmm.
Anyway, it was a sunny day in May 1995 and to the great relief of our respective wives, departure day had finally arrived and we were deposited at the airport. Checked in – and lo and behold ‘delayed’ was flashing by our intended flight to Glasgow.
Initial frustration was soon to disappear as we realised it was past 10.00am and the bar was open. The plan was to grab a quick couple and be ready when the plane arrived. Mustn’t get drunk. 30 mins turned into a couple of hours, and so dear friends the die was cast!!
Still only midday as the plane arrived. About 1.00 we touched down in Glasgow and swiftly to the bus station and onto a bus for Oban. My recall is that there was one almost ready to leave. Must have been as I don’t recall the bar.
The journey to Oban was tortuous, especially after the 3rd or 4th trip to the on-board loo. Thank god they had one! Many of you will know the feeling; sleepy eyes, just getting hungry and a ‘carpet-dry’ mouth. I was fast losing the will to live when the bus stopped and the driver announced 30 minute break. Alllelujah! From semi – corpse to Olympic sprinter in a nano-second! We were in Lochawe, and we loved it.
I recall gliding gracefully through the bar of a fairly posh hotel, ordering 2 pints of Guinness, clocking the gents and arriving at the hallowed porcelain without breaking step. Impressive, even if I say so myself.
Ahhhhhhhhhh was the question, Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, was the reply. A sensible 2 pints so we didn’t have to argue whose round it was at the next bar. Back on the bus and soon into Oban, as many will know, a delightful place. I have been back since and explored it a bit more. Its so much more than a ferry port.
We found our B & B, settled in and made our way to a lovely pub right on the harbour wall. Yes, ok, we had a few and a hearty meal…and a few more – well we were on holiday.
Day 1
Friday 12th May – Oban to Glen Liver.( should have been Glen Kinglass )
Breakfasted and ready to go. Said our farewells to the B&B landlady and into town to find the start point. Eventually finding it clearly marked at a hotel on the main street! Feet wetted on the slipway.
Off we set, south along the high street for at least 500yds.
“Look” squealed Dave excitedly pointing at a sign for the Oban Distillery. “I gotta go there”.
I’m sure we had a swift dram and Dave signed the visitors book. It was too early even for us to get stuck in.
After a few yards / miles we happened upon a fairly strange sounding gym;
Now we are of the combined, and indeed not inconsiderable, professional opinion that this sign may have been ever so slightly tampered with. Lets not pre judge.
As we made our way through Glen Lonan, a wide flat almost agricultural Glen, we began to relax into real challenge mode. Chatting away to locals and other challengers alike. Stopping for the odd rest a while and indeed making a cup of tea at the roadside. The weather was glorious, as it was, I feel, for the whole crossing.
The plan was to go via Taynuilt, across into Glen Etive, follow the eastern shore track north, turning east into Glen Kinglass and camping at the first suitable spot.
Taynuilt had a pub!!!!!
So after a mere 3 hours of fresh air, we were once again propping up a bar. When will I ever learn that the barman / barmaid DOESN’T actually want to be my best friend, nor are they remotely interested in my ‘mountain man’ tales. They just want to separate me from my money.
A few hours later, we emerged into the afternoon sunlight, and surprisingly found our way to the track along Glen Etive.
Glen Etive began to reveal its majesty. What a stunning place. Even through a particularly dense highland alcohol fog, it was breathtaking. We wandered on in awe of this place until we reached Glen Liver, where I decided to announce to the whole world, and Dave, that I could walk no further. He didn’t argue and camp was set in an idyllic spot a few yards up Glen Liver.
After tea we sat around and congratulated ourselves on our Herculean efforts to overcome the distillery and the pub, and still be almost where we should be! We consulted the map, finalised tomorrow’s plans and drifted off to sleep.
Day 2
Saturday 13th May – Glen Liver to Loch Dochard.
Friends, fellow challengers. I am not a super legend, nor even a normal legend. Not even a ten timer, but please allow me to offer you a piece of heartfelt advice which you ignore at your peril.
Never, ever set out on a route for the day which has been agreed the night before whilst all parties to the discussion were leathered!!!
Why oh why did we not just follow the track up the loch a little, turn right into Glen Kinglass and make up our lost ground on the track? No. We decided that it would be far easier and indeed quicker to go up Glen Liver…OVER the monster of a hill between and then down into Glen Kinglass. Oh, and as it was only the second day and we had eaten lunch in the pub the day before, the packs were still nice and heavy!!! The only saving grace is that the hangover was soon sweated out. Once down into Kinglass, it was a delightful day’s walking, with bathing in the pools along the way.
After a lovely afternoon we reached an idyllic camp spot, just in the edge of the forest on the south side of the river a few kms east of Loch Dochard Close to the bridge at NN 233418.
A good sleep was enjoyed.
Day 3
Sunday 14th May – Loch Dochard to Achallader Farm
After a good sleep in a truly beautiful spot we rose relaxed and refreshed. Soon our little piece of pine heaven was alive to the smell of coffee and bacon. Yes friends Bacon…the breakfast of champions. Rather then trying to make a bacon sandwich with crushed up sliced bread, take one small pitta bread, warm it over the cooker, carefully, and as it starts to expand, cut along the edge, a la kebab shop, thus forming a pocket into which the bacon can be stuffed mmmmmmmmmmm.
More coffee, then packed and hit the trail again. Once joined with others we head across open land towards the main road. I recall a beautiful sunny morning.
Someone then suggested the Bridge of Orchy Hotel, for a fine Sunday lunch and a couple of beers…. Yeah. A bar.
We wandered over a section of the West Highland Way, dropping into Bridge of Orchy. A route I’m sure is familiar to Challengers.
I supposed you have by now worked out that we had more than a couple. We met some like minded souls and just enjoyed some quality time together. I don’t know what was said but I sure found it funny, Pardner !!
On a sad but highly amusing note, this is probably the last photo of Dave’s ( dave in the blue fleece ) nose in this, its original format. Owing to his beer intake, once outside the hotel and in an attempt to get his pack back on he performed a quite special 360 degree toe-spin coming to a conclusion face down on the floor. Ouch !! There was his blood, snot and my tears of laughter everywhere. How we laughed !!
In fairness to Dave I recall him walking off towards Achallader chuckling away, having realised that the whole situation really does have a funny side to it.
Being simple souls this kept us highly amused for the walk to Achallader. On arrival the farmhouse was empty and a note on the rear door informing us that the parcel was on the kitchen table, go in and get it. A strange concept for us; trust. Two inner city coppers only 3 days out of being continually fed a diet of lies and all round dishonesty. Still, a nice reminder of real decent folk, who form the vast majority of society.
We soon had the tents set, and food a’ cooking. Resting in the evening sun after a few beers, Dave’s ‘nose-cabaret’ and a hearty meal, is reward enough, but the added scenery and feeling of freedom was pure bliss.
Day 4
Monday 15th May – Achallader to Rannoch Forest
Breakfast was a subdued affair, in that we both had hangovers again and Dave the added issue of only being able to breath through his mouth; therefore eating and talking simultaneously was out of the question.
However it was taken under a beautiful blue sky with the west highland railway line behind us and the stunning Rannoch Moor beginning to open out in front, to the north.
Once packed we began up the track towards Gorton bothy, a steady amble which in all the circumstances suited us fine. I have long had a fondness for Rannoch Moor and all its bleakness. Not being a Munro ticker offer, I enjoy the wilderness scenery so much. I will toil up hills if the mood takes me.
For me, and we are all different, the intensity of brooding places such as Rannoch Moor and the Lairig Ghru, is irresistible. I realise that the watershed on the Lairig Ghru is extremely high in itself, but somehow belittled by the giants along its sides.
Anyway after a brew at the bothy (yes so soon!) we continued to cross the railway line where it disappears into the forest north east of Gorton bothy. Is it me, or is there something childishly enjoyable about being on a railway line? Even though no trains were due, and it was only for a few hundred yards, I did and still do find it so exciting!! Then following the forest line NE and a bearing we made our way around the north western flanks of Garbh Mheall. Once round them we picked up the track NE through the forest arriving just short of the bridge at NN 521533 by late afternoon. It was now, we decided, a good time to camp by the river as the sky was beginning to look ominously dark.
Very soon after the tents were up, water was collected from the river and the evening feeding process began.
“Look at that!” was the excited shout from Dave.
I looked out instinctively, it was snowing!
We had spent the day walking in glorious sunshine, and so looking forward to a good feed and relaxing outside in the balmy evening warmth. Never mind, we had had a lovely day. And sober!
Day 5
Tuesday 16th May – Rannoch Forest to Tummel Bridge
A day we had not really been looking forward to, mainly because of the walk along the southern shore of Loch Rannoch, through Kinloch Rannoch and down to the holiday site at Tummel Bridge. It was necessary as we had to make some distance to get to Blair Atholl the following day in time for the train to Kingussie for Bernie’s stag night.
However the day turned out to be anything but dull.
As we strolled along the lochside in the sunshine, and let’s face it in stunning scenery, we met two elderly ladies who were down from I think Aberdeen taking a weeks holiday at their caravan which was sited on the land between the road and the loch, just near Carie. After a few moments chat they asked if we would like some tea and cake!! Has there ever been a challenger refuse that offer??
These two ladies were such fun characters. I think well into their 70s, both widowed but such good friends. They were laughing, and indeed at some quite cheeky suggestions. They insisted on photos with us. As the years have moved on, thirteen since, I wonder as I write this if they are still with us. If not, well rest in peace and god bless. If you are still with us, get out here in May as some bedraggled challenger will so need your supplies.
Soon, it seemed, after leaving these two gems we arrived in Kinloch Rannoch. Here we met up with the father and son in law team wearing cowboy hats throughout the crossing, and a couple who sadly had to withdraw soon after as the lady had fallen and twisted her back. I can’t recall names.
Then we spotted, to our horror…a bar!
A rather up-market hotel, but our money is as good as anyone else’s.
This time I was sure beyond sure. The barmaid really did want to be my best friend! As we left a couple of hours later for the stagger to Tummel Bridge, and with only Dave for company, reality was settling on me. Again.
The holiday site at Tummel Bridge gladly accepted our money and clearly indicated to us, two postage stamp’s worth of grass on which to put our tents for the night. Right inside the entrance and feet from the campsite road.
Yes. We were allowed to use the showers and pool. I’m sure this was granted begrudgingly given our somewhat ‘challenged’ appearance.
Clean, and after a wee swim, Mmmmmmmmm a bar!
Surprisingly, after only one or two beers we hit the sack. Was it the awful beer or atmosphere of a car park? Probably both.
Day 6
Wednesday 17th May – Tummel Bridge to Blair Atholl
Today was a day to be on our way fairly early. It was Bernie’s stag do in the bothy near Phones, just off Wade’s Road towards Kingussie.
I ask you all now, as Challengers in particular, as well as mountain types in general. Do you know that sinking feeling in the pit of the tummy when you realise you have to cross open ground later that day and the map you need is safely in the parcel to be collected tomorrow?
Well there I was. Franticly grabbing every tourist brochure, containing any form of map from the campsite reception. At the same time accepting the wholly justified volley of abuse from Dave. Sadly I seemed to make things worse, if it were possible, by seeing the funny side of the situation far too early!
So clutching a glossy foldout tourist brochure we set off down the road. After a few miles we arrived at where we thought we should take the path north, and over to Blair Atholl. Oh yes and did I mention we had a time deadline too! Can’t see the train waiting for us.
Dave, by now calm and accepting our situation spots a hotel on the road from Tummel Bridge towards Pitlochry etc. I’m sure many of you know it well. Surely not the bar already it wasn’t even 10.00am. Coffee and local knowledge, maybe the staff have a map etc etc.
Now age and alcohol may have fogged me a little, but I recall the proprietor or duty person was a square block of a guy. A retired rugby player of standing. Very pleasant, and indeed a wealth of local knowledge. He didn’t have a map but with the one we had and his written instructions, we were sure to triumph. We ordered a coffee as the least we could do.
That consumed and buoyed by the instructions etc I’m ready for the off. Dave however is deep in conversation with this guy about the finer points of the game. Dave is a student of the game, name dropper extraordinaire, and played in his youth as winger or some other poncey position. I on the other hand, having played the game for best part of 30 yrs as a forward and all round battering ram, never quite saw the need to learn the rules relating to anything outside the scrum or line out. Twiddling my fingers and grunting as required I sat mostly outside this debate. Ever more impatient to get going but didn’t dare press the point as this situation was my doing!
Eventually we left, followed the instructions, path, forest stile, tracks then through a farm on the right of way. I’m sure so many of you will have taken this route and will know exactly where I mean. Lo and behold a few hours later we arrived at the top of a hill and looked straight down at Blair Atholl.
Soon at the station and with an hour or two to spare…you guessed it – to a bar. We were grateful for many things that day but mainly good weather. In bad conditions the calculated risk we took would have been a non starter, and a long road walk. We drank to the weather, several times!
The train arrived, and we got to Kingussie without a single hitch. At the cycle hire shop collected the mountain bikes we had booked for 24 hrs and pedalled off to Newtonmore. Whilst riding the few miles to the Lodge Hotel I was regretting the half dozen Guinesses I launched down my face whilst waiting for the train. But hey ho.
The staff at the hotel were fab. Pressed our wedding suits posted up in readiness for the wedding next day. Once we were sure all was ready for the next day, we rode off to the bothy. A fairly short ride, still with full pack.
Once there, and my recollection is that we were the first, we set the tents and ate well as we knew a few beers were to pass before the night was done. The others started to arrive from various directions, from a trickle to a healthy flow. The bothy area was awash with expectant challengers when a land rover appeared driven by Geoff from the lodge hotel. This was stuffed with ale. A real vision. A thing of beauty….sorry if I’m going on a bit but it was an emotional moment!
Probably a photo that the subject thinks is long gone !!!!!!!! (photo edited by Doodlecat) I would however like to point out that not only am I sat next to him and sporting a 93 goc badge, and a Tan Hill Inn patch, but the small flash of green and silver is an 88 or 89 ‘Ultimate’ challenge badge. What price ??
Day 7
Thursday 18th May – The Wedding Day
Cycling from the bothy back to the Lodge Hotel is as effective hangover cure as I have known. Then, somewhat surreally, everyone seemed to enter into ‘normal’ wedding behaviour. Panic is an apt description! From the highly competent, un-fazed Challenger behaviour normally displayed in May, there seemed to be big issues over ties and the like!!
Anyway, fully booted and suited we duly arrived at the said location to see Pauline and Bernie tie the knot. I don’t seem to have any pics but recall it was a sunny day.
Then it was back to The Lodge Hotel for a good old knees up, oh goody mmmmm beer. It was during the after dinner speeches that a lady called Maureen approached Dave and I. She was a member of the banqueting staff, and as such was very discreet, but none the less menacing. She leant politely between the two of us and whispered “If you two don’t stop wandering around the tables, chatting to guests including the top table and then walking back here with their free wine, I will tell them all”. We knew Maureen well from our numerous trips to these parts, and given our profession I’m sure she was enjoying the threat so much more. We didn’t nick any more!!
There was much merry making that evening. Yes you are correct, we were a little wasted.
Day 8
Friday 19th May – Blair Atholl to Falls of Tarf
In true challenge tradition we breakfasted on time, cycled to Kingussie and after returning the bikes we duly caught the train back to Blair Atholl to continue our crossing.
Re-supply and a sugar hit in a tiny shop and we were off up Glen Tilt.
A stunning glen, but today, oh so very long! We were feeling a little ‘jaded’. Adding insult to injury, we were offered a lift by the estate stalker, Charlie Pirrie. In honest challenge tradition we declined politely, explained and continued, with packs. We did however, again as per challenge protocol accept coffee and cakes, as we wandered pitifully past his farm.
Spurred on by this we eventually made it to our overnight point. The open area beside the river at the junction with Glen Loch, about a km from Falls of Tarf.
I appear not to have written much or taken any pics, nor do I recall much more. Possibly the altitude!
We slept well.
Day 9
Saturday 20th May – Falls of Tarf to The Cairnwell
Shaken into life at an un-godly hour by a presumed challenger power walking past our tents and bellowing a cheery “morning” style greeting, we managed to resist the temptation to join him! Back to sleep instead. Once risen and fed, we made our happy way past the falls of Tarf, Fealar Lodge, The Cairnwell and finally camping by the incredibly steep side of Meall Odhar. I recall feeling really good at this stage. We had chosen not to visit Braemar due to rather unpleasant treatment in the Fife a year or so before. Not just us, it seemed to have gone ‘challenge un-friendly’.
Anyway I think this was, in purist terms our best day so far. A stunning walk, over wild country with good distance covered. We had also climbed Cairn an Righ, The Cairnwell and another nearby munro.
My only complaint was Dave’s lack of respect for my privacy when seeing to a delicate issue with a good handful of Vaseline. He appeared, commando-roll style through the heather and fired off the one and only chance he was going to get for a picture. The result wasn’t quite what he wanted.
Day 10
Sunday 21st May – Cairnwell to Driesh
This day started with a severe climb up the hillside opposite the Cairnwell, then across the vast open area towards Mayar and Driesh. As we hadn’t been into Braemar, this was in fact a second consecutive day without alcohol. Quite an achievement I’m sure you’ll agree. Anyway, we were fleet of foot and happy of heart as we followed the path / track up to Meall and then on to Glas Maol. Then having followed north and east around the stunning Caernlochan Glen crags and finally south east, via Dun Hillocks towards Mayar. It was during this care free phase that I took one of those special, ‘that was a surprise’ tumbles. You know the ones; ‘why are my feet in the air , why is my pack in front of me?’ I rolled over a few times before coming to a fairly un graceful rest. Initially there was silence as Dave waited for signs of life… I began to grumble and so the silence was broken as Dave cracked into hysterical laughter. He had after all waited over a week for his turn to laugh at me…and he was determined to enjoy it.
As we strolled over Mayar and then Driesh, the sun was beginning to set on a beautiful evening. It seemed a shame to descend into Glen Prosen and lose all this so we decided to set camp high that night.
Less than a hundred metres due north of the summit of Driesh there was a small hollow giving enough flat ground for two little tents. With a stream emerging a short distance in front we had local water too. I recall sitting that night as the sun, and indeed the temperature, sank. It was a spectacular sunset, and I remember thinking all across the hills and glens around us were a couple of hundred challengers, enjoying this special moment in collective solitude! The spirit of the challenge caught in a moment.
Day 11
Monday 22nd May – Driesh to Memus
Daylight woke me and as I peered out of the tent I was greeted by 360 degree unbroken, panoramic FOG. As soon as we were ready to move off an hour or two later the wisdom of last night’s bearing back to the summit was brought to bear. Last night’s thoughts were of continuing along this ridge south east all the way to Dykehead, but experience suggested we have a bale out route. As we couldn’t see a darn thing by mid morning we followed the Shank of Driesh down into the glen and romped along to Dykehead. Not really sad that we weren’t on the ridge, because last night’s sunset was so stunning. Mustn’t be greedy!.
Anyway Dave reminded me that we had better get a shift on as Dykehead had a pub, but we were unsure of lunchtime hours in such a small village. It was a case of pick up the pace or face another day, ‘Sans Alcohol’. Imagine our delight to find it was open all day !!!!!!
We eventually wombled, topped up, into the camp site at Memus.
Day 12
Tuesday 23rd May – Memus to Arbroath
A long road slog to Arbroath was the order of the day. We hadn’t planned to go all the way to Arbroath, instead camp about half way then wander into the town tomorrow en route to Auchmithie, our intended finish point, but we didn’t really mind that after the wonderful crossing, in virtually unbroken dry and sunny weather. At Letham we called in on ‘Jim’. A tgo vetter and all round lovely guy. He had been given our route to vet and as we were passing through his patch, he kindly invited us for tea and cakes. Duly accepted.
Although not ideal, the road walking gave us time to womble on to Arbroath chatting about a great crossing without having to worry about where the next foot is put down. It was soon over and we stood on the northern end of the harbour.
Good route, good weather, good fun. Just along from the harbour was a very inviting pub. Oh dear!
We were mindful of a hooley to attend the following night at the Park Hotel so we were, for us anyway, restrained. We had a lovely meal washed down with a good supply of the miracle that is Guinness.
Realising we were about to be camping near public areas we asked the staff at the pub where, north along the coastal path, was the best place to camp. We duly followed instructions, through the car park and the small gate that was at that time at the northern end of it. Onto the coastal path to just short of Dickmonts Den, then camp in the rough grass to the left of the path, over the bushes. That we did, and slept well.
Day 13
Wednesday 24th May – Arbroath to Auchmithie
Early next morning, eventually giving in to bladder pressure, I crawled into the field in boxers, and untied walking boots. A vision indeed – and whilst kneeling to take care of my reason for getting out of my lovely warm sleeping bag, I was aware of a guy walking his dog along the coastal path towards us. Confident that he would pass by, I interrupted the operation. As he drew level with our tents, he stopped, fumbled a while then his arm appeared above the hedge as he threw something towards us. A petrol bomb! I kid you not folks, a lighted petrol bomb. Now whilst not unfamiliar with these being slung at me, I would normally be with lots of my buddies, dressed in blue and protected by shields. Not in boxers and boots. The grass was wet so it had no effect and indeed landed well short. Thank god I was up for a …
I shouted to Dave and set off as fast as I could chasing him. He was a little surprised, and his dog, to see me heading out of the field towards him. He got to the car park ahead of me (I assume he had his shoes done up!) into a car and drove off. I noted the type etc.
We packed up and made our way to Montrose via Auchmithie, where we officially dipped our boots in the sea to finish, albeit somewhat overshadowed by the morning’s events, and told control staff. The police arrived and duly recorded it. I heard nothing more.
Taking this final incident aside, I accept that our crossing was probably not to the purist’s liking. Too much beer maybe… but we walked 100% of the way with our packs, had one hell of a good time in stunning scenery and amongst good friends, and in all the photos we seem to be smiling.
Cheers!!!
