What an awful night. The bed and sleeping bag were fine but almost as soon as I got in my knee started to play up. First it stiffened then got sore. I hardly got a wink of sleep because every time I moved pain shot through my knee and I got more and more worried as the night progressed, wondering if I could continue the trip. It didn't help I suppose that it never got dark as up there you hardly get any night during the summer. By the morning I was shattered and could hardly walk when I got out of bed. I hobbled up and down the corridor for a few minutes and the others were clearly worried about me, though they tried to chivvy me up by acting as if it would go away. We decided to leave it till after breakfast to see how it went and I hobbled into the dining room. We were the only diners, I don't think there was anyone else staying at the Inn. The breakfast was pleasant and this being our last real meal, we made the most of it, particularly as it set us back another fiver (same price as the bunkhouse). After breakfast I was still for giving up as I could hardly walk but Roy was desperately trying to make sure I went on. He dug out some cream and tablets (Ibuleve) which had been given by his doctor for his own knee trouble. They are anti-inflammatory pills. As well he had a knee bandage so I put this on and we worked on the basis that as the first part of the day was on the road I could try it and see how it went. Now on a full pack we headed for the hills, the cripple slowly moving at the back. As we left Roy said he doubted he could go back as he had broken the toilet cistern. He had gone in and when the cistern had not worked he had pushed it harder and the handle came off in his hand. "That's funny", I said "It worked fine when I used it just before you went in". "No I didn't use the same toilet, I used the one next door" he claimed. "Oh, you mean the one that's out of order" - "Out of order? Well they ought to have put a sign on the door then". "They did, Roy, a great big one on the door saying 'Out of Order!' ". "Oh", says Roy, a wee bit abashed.
As we walked the 2/3 miles up the road I had to admit that my knee was beginning to ease and by the time we got to the place we had to leave the road it was just tender. Don't know if it was the pills, the bandage or just the walk loosening it up - probably a bit of all. Anyway it was good enough to persuade me to continue and after a little break off we went up to the fence and over a gate onto the moorland. Actually it wasn't moorland but a new plantation, partly deciduous trees for a change. They were easy to avoid so we could not damage anything except ourselves. And well we might as the terrain was horrible. For drainage reasons dozens of parallel ditches ran down the hill and as we were climbing diagonally it was up, down, up, down all the way to the end of the plantation and over another gate. This was only the start of a day of awful terrain the worst I've ever met. Maybe it's because we are in pathless territory and maybe because there is lots of peat and bumps but it is awful country to walk in. From the gate it was down into a dip then after a series of ups and downs we slowly made our way up a long, fairly easy ridge to the crest ridge of "the little hill with the long name" (Beinn Liath Mhor a'Ghuibhais Li). We didn't bother with the summit of this Corbett as there seemed no point, we only wanted to see where to go next. That was not easy as again there was a howling gale on the ridge and at times it was difficult to keep your feet. Even out of the wind the way ahead was not simple as there was some mist and occasional rain. The book says aim for the plateau at 500 metres with two summits and in between mist swirls I could see it, looking a bit like a golf course with two greens at either end of the plateau. Graeme was not totally convinced as he felt we could have bypassed the plateau. Don't know if it would have been better ( though I doubt it) but I was determined to keep to the line stated in the book. You could see this was wild territory where map and compass were essential and I preferred to stick to known landmarks, especially with mist around. Actually the route to the plateau proved easy to follow as the mist never came fully down and even started to move away. But the terrain was awful. The book says that the route has few peat hags. Somebody must have dug them up since he wrote it, they were everywhere. I never really knew what a peat hag was until here. It's like dried clay although the cracks are six feet deep and you can never tell if the bottom is slippery mud or a deep muddy trench. Trying to avoid them is almost as bad as going up and down them.
Yet again Graeme was suffering and way behind Roy and myself. Actually I was glad to see Roy getting a bit more adventurous and confident. On the first day he seemed very reluctant to go ahead and kept dogging my heels. However he was now realising that on a trip like this all members more or less make their own way. All of us have our preferences as to the best way up or down a hill and as long as you keep in sight of each other it doesn't matter if you get separated. Certainly this is the way Graeme was playing it. Sometimes he was so far behind us you got worried, then next thing he was on top of you. On the plateau we took our bearings, working out that we had to go round a small hill ahead and to the left. This would take us to the Loch Gorm just below the Fannichs. They were still in mist so you couldn't work out where the climb up was. What then galled us was that looking back we could see a much easier way of getting to where we were. Had we originally walked a couple of extra miles along the road we would have reached a valley and it would have been a long but easy looking walk up the glen to the plateau. As it was we had climbed a Corbett and knackered ourselves on the way down. We felt we had been conned by the book. One thing the book did say and we, or should I say me, missed was a comment that we should keep to the 500 metre contour as we went round the hill. We didn't, dropping down somewhat and got ourselves bogged down in the worst terrain I've ever encountered. First of all we were walking round a hill so you have the first difficulty of walking on a slant. Then there were peat hags, horrible tummocks and worst of all great cuts in the hillside so down you went. This seemed to go on for hours up and down, up and down with no sign of the loch.
Eventually we decided to head a bit more uphill, Roy leading the way and then on a high spot he waved to say he could see the loch. By this time we were all knackered and I could understand now why the book only indicated a walk to the first mountain on the ridge - Meall Gorm - for this day. On paper it looked so easy but now we knew it wasn't and we virtually all agreed at once that we should camp here and not go up onto the ridge today. That was easier said than done. We walked the whole length of the loch with nowhere even remotely suitable for camping. As well as being boggy there was a tremendously gusty wind tearing up the loch. At the top of the loch we could see the way that would take us up to the ridge and we knew there was a small lochan halfway up. I suggested one of us might climb up to see if there was a camping spot there. From the looks I got, I got the distinct impression that volunteers would be hard to find. We decided that the best bet was to go back to the end of the loch to Loch Odhar, next to it where there had looked to be a bit more shelter and eventually we found a site. It was pretty ropy, bumpy and boggy and a little exposed but there was nothing better. In the morning the views across the loch and up to Sgurr Mor were idyllic but at that time all we could see was mist on the hills and a wind swept loch.
By this time it was only about 4.00 and I began to wonder what on earth we were going to do on a windy evening stuck in a tent with all our clothes damp. The weather had been reasonable but every so often it showered so we had some wet clothes and I certainly had wet feet. I had only recently had my boots resoled but whether there was a fault or the seams are going they seemed to be leaking more than before. I cooked the meal this evening and by comparison with what followed it was excellent. A dried food Bolognese sauce from Tesco with Japanese rice noodles. The wind died down and disappeared for the night and once we had cleared up we all felt much better. Amazingly by this time it was after 9.00, don't know where the time went. This also put paid to the idea we had had of going to sleep early and getting up about 5.00 to get an early start. By the time we settled it was 10.00 and we didn't waken until 7.00. That kind of gives the impression we slept all night, we didn't. I was lying on a bump that must have been about four feet high, under my back and I couldn't settle - when I got up in the morning the lump had largely gone. Probably soggy ground which got ironed out in the night, or maybe it was alive! The others did not sleep too well either, Roy again accusing me of snoring. Me? How could I snore when I couldn't sleep. He must have been dreaming.
