The Unhurried Hiker

“Solitude is the strength of being alone. Its where we become our best company” Jay Shetty

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People sometimes look at me strangely when I tell them I am going on a road trip, by myself, just me in a car with my suitcase, a 12v coolbox and an audiobook about serial killers. I can see the cogs turning internally, asking why would she do that? Then I tell them what it brings me. Some peace, mind space, confidence and time. They start to recognise the advantages and maybe even wonder if they could also benefit from a road trip of their own.

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After the high of yesterday’s endeavor to Coniston Copper Mine, I took a days rest visiting precious family in Troon, the kind of family that I haven’t seen in years, but I felt so comfortable in their company it was like we’d just seen each other last week.

The ferry from Ardrossan to Brodick on the Isle of Arran was a little delayed, they masterfully directed the vehicles on to the deck like fitting together the shapes in a game of Tetris. The sea was calm and the crossing easy. I had read about Goatfell whilst I was researching for this trip, the highest mountain on the Island at 874 metres, and as we crossed, I was still contemplating if this was a possibility, or not, or maybe, or not. I had to make a decision quickly though as time was ticking by, in late September I would lose the light around 7pm and it was already lunch time. The literature suggested the route would take 3-4 hours, but I knew better and for my little legs it was likely to be more like 5!

I felt a sudden wave of energy flow through me, I stopped thinking about it. It wasn’t a decision anymore it was a steadfast plan I was going to execute. I pulled over in a layby on the road that curved anti-clockwise alongside the coastline to work out where to start, something caught my eye. I saw a seal perched on a large rock seemingly basking in the sun. After a few moments, I came to realise it wasn’t alive, it was a sculpture, a nod to the fishing community. I chuckled to myself at my obvious oversight and wondered if the locals laugh at the tourists from their netted windows for this on a daily basis, like entertainment.

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Unhitching my phone from the hands free cradle, I franticly got to work on finding the starting point that the ‘Walkhighlands’ website had given. I drove up and down the road a few times trying to find the entrance that led to the parking spot, very aware of the minutes that were ticking away. I took a chance on a dirt track which headed into a forest and it seemed to match the directions I had read. It was a tricky, steep climb, trying to navigate the rough, gravelly,  terrain in my Prius+.

A small, leveled area opened up after squeezing by some thorny bushes that made my car’s metallic paint work sing, like fingers circling water filled glasses. There was enough parking for maybe 4 cars near a water treatment building, but I was very much alone. I screen shot the route on my phone and sent it to my family WhatsApp group like it was my last will and testament. I started to feel some trepidation, fear, uncertainty, all those negative feelings that I had felt a few days ago. I steeled myself and once again, shifted to a positive mindset, got my back pack together and followed the instructions on my phone screen.

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The first section was through quite dense forest, a very narrow path only wide enough for a pair of boots at times. The ferns, which were now past their prime and browning at the edges, licked at my ankles, their tendrils uncurled, I could imagine them wrapping around my legs, entwinning into my laces and pulling me into the undergrowth, absorbed into nature, never to be seen again.

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There were a few streams to cross which had been made easy with the placement of perfectly shaped stones directing the water through a duct which you just hopped over. A couple of kissing gates marked the edge of the forest. The overcrowded darkness of the huge trees I had negotiated, gave way to a dramatic change in the vegetation. Like pulling aside the fur coats in the Wardrobe to Narnia, unveiling a much rockier landscape with grasses and moss the mortar between the stone. A vast, open arena with a very obvious path to take and I was on my way.

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I met a young couple who were sitting on a boulder, taking on some carbs for their journey. They had mountain bikes with them which intrigued me, surely they weren’t going to bike up this mountain! I asked them about their intentions and I was stunned to learn they were going to navigate the same route as I was, they went on to tell me they would have to carry their bikes for quite a lot of the path especially the ridge that led to the summit. I wished them luck and went on my way in disbelief.

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The path was stable under foot and the incline kind for nearly two kilometers, then there was a steep change, so steep I made my own route creating switch backs, making slow but steady progress, taking regular breaks to allow my burning leg muscles to recover for a few moments before continuing. Finally reaching the top where there was a small platform, I looked down at where I had climbed, raised my hands in the air looked up at the blue sky and unapologetically woo hoo’d at myself in celebration.

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I could see the couple I had met before, tiny figures in the distance, I wondered if they had heard me. They were probably far to focused, ladened with their mountain bikes braced across their shoulders like the yoke a milk maid would carry. It made me ponder about how much more grueling this was going to be for them, that although I had struggled to put each foot in front of the one before, that I was breathing like I was a heavy smoker of 40 years and I had a backpack containing a good few kilos of extra weight, these two had it so much harder, so difficult that I could not imagine the weight they would be carrying. They would need to be physically and mentally tougher than I could contemplate. No matter what I was feeling, someone else will always have to face far greater adversity than I.

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Approaching the summit, the path beneath my feet began to narrow, the wind was picking up coming in at me from the right. The track became less obvious amongst the jagged rocks now jutting up like crystal quartz, there were huge rock structures ahead that blocked my view of the summit, rising and falling like a stormy wave, I had to navigate round or over them picking my way carefully. I heard some jolly voices carried on the wind, a young couple appeared, climbing up from one of the dips. After a short greeting the lady proceeded to tell me that they were due to be in Greece right now but she hadn’t realised her passport was nearly out of date and they wouldn’t let her fly. Instead of wallowing in the misery of their failed plans. they decided to make the most of their limited annual leave and drive to Scotland instead to climb a mountain. I was a little confused about their demeanor, they almost seemed happy and unperturbed about their misfortune, clearly loving the time they were spending together. Although it wasn’t the plan they had made, nevertheless they were enjoying each other’s company, making the most of time well spent and to them it hadn’t really mattered about where it was just as long as they were doing it together.

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By now the winds were really strong, as I approached the summit I didn’t want to let go of the knarly support I had been clinging on to, it felt unsafe to let go. The trig point was on a small platform, I had one hand on it to steady me as I took the obligatory 360 video of the unbelievable vista. To the west I could see a mountainous structure shaped like a deep bowl, the ridges on the top edge, serrated like half the shell of a cracked egg, it looked Jurassic, other worldly, wild.

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I started my descent and soon felt this was just as hard as the climb up but in a totally different way, my knees and tops of my thighs were having to brace themselves every single step I took down. Lots of work had been done to make a clear path by creating steps, but travelling south was much more difficult than I expected it would be. I had naively expected down to be easy, but it was far from that!

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I saw an older gentleman coming towards me, taking it easy step by step, he had walking poles and I thought they would be quite handy for the direction I was taking, noted! We exchanged hello’s, he had an American accent and told me he had had a knee replacement a few years back and was making the most of it. Another 20 minutes on and I met an older lady, again I said hello, she also had an American accent, coincidence? Apparently not, she told me she didn’t think she could carry on any more her knees were really struggling, but her husband had gone on ahead and she couldn’t call him to tell him to come back to her because his phone was in her backpack. I had some humorous thoughts, apparently, years of nurturing your relationship, enjoying your friendship and feeling a sense of togetherness, doesn’t necessarily mean they will be by your side, supporting you or appreciating your strengths and weaknesses. Sometimes it means, you’re on your own.

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I was clock watching a little already, the quick descent I thought it would be, wasn’t so quick. However, what goes up must come down. The rain started to fall, just a drizzle at first but then a little harder, making the stone slippery under foot. I was having to take tiny steps at a time not confident about my stride and the consequences of taking bigger ones. I came across a large slab of stone, it looked more like a slide than something I should walk on and the moment I committed my foot to it I knew it was wrong. I don’t really know what happened but in a split second I was on my back and I thanked god I was wearing my back pack with my coat inside. This cushioned my fall and without it I would have cracked my head on the slab. I got up and brushed myself off.

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The next obstacle was a ford according to the OS map, but more like a rushing waterfall by the time I arrived. By now the rain had been falling for an hour and the water had swelled so the stepping stones were now submerged. Again it was one of those moments that I could foresee what was going to happen but took a chance anyway. I had to take a little leap to pick out the stone least under the water, I shouldn’t have bothered, my foot slipped and dove into the ice cold water between two boulders trapping my boot for a moment before releasing it. By now I was soaked and had resigned myself to being water logged through ALL of my layers. I could see the edge of the woodland area and the gates soon came into sight too, I knew I was getting closer to my starting point. The light was now fading some what and I was glad to reach the solace of my car, towels and dry clothes.

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I thought about the people I had met on my journey, how they had provoked me to take an unexpected lesson or two from this experience. To think about their stories and how I could apply it to my own. I felt blessed, glad, appreciative, lucky and most of all sore. I knew my whole body was going to hurt tomorrow, it was already protesting now and I hadn’t even reached the B&B. But as I drove back down the track to the road that would take me to a hot shower, somewhere to dry my clothes and a comfy bed for the night, I knew it would all be worth it because I did it! I survived, I achieved another goal, I finished what I set out to do.

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The Unhurried Hiker, going Solo to the Summit.