Andy and John's Great Adventures

The Knoydart Way

2006-09-08T00:00:00.004+01:00

When - 8th, 9th and 10th September 2006
Where - Knoydart, Lochaber, Scotland
Who - Andy Smith, John Siwek, James Smith, James Kroll, Alistair Nicholson, Rebecca Niece, Hannah Law, Alice Fraser, Kirsty MacRuary, Susan Turner, Alex Turner, Neil Bennett
Andy's Comment - He's now rating the "people involved"!

Account by John Siwek

The assessed expedition was scheduled to begin on Friday the 8th of September, so during the school term in August we had to plan for it. The planning was an important stage as a) we would be failed if no planning had taken place and b) we wouldn’t know important things like: the route and who was taking what. It was decided that everyone had to take part in the planning no matter what, so inevitably it was mainly me (John) and Andy, often under the knowledgeable gaze of Eilidh. For each day the distance, co-ordinate, bearing, time which included rests and time for travelling up hills, had to be entered on a planning sheet. Each day took around half an hour to plan if you were doing it alone, but it could be anything over that if there were more people “helping”.

Another part of the planning involved deciding what food we would take. On the practice we each took our own food and stove and ate what we wanted when we wanted it. It did mean taking our own stoves each but it also meant that you didn’t have to share food. This time, however, we agreed (mostly) on what to take, mainly flat, easily portable food and sausages. On the Thursday Me, Andy and James Kroll went to the co-op to buy the food with money that everybody had chipped in. The change would be shared out later, (this later is still to come as far as I’m aware.)

8th September 2006 - Day One

On Friday morning we all met up at around 7ish in the school car park with all the equipment. After packing the food as best as possible between us, wondering if sausages was really a good idea and loading up on meths because somebody forgot to fill the bottle, (cough, Stevie, cough), we all piled into the oldest high school minibus. We were driven to Armadale by Mrs MacRuary for the ferry to Mallaig. Once at Armadale we had roughly 30 minutes to re-arrange our bags and sort ourselves.

The day had started out cold but with a pure blue sky and little cloud so promised to be a good day, it had rained heavily for most of the rest of the week. Out to the distance you could just make out the mountains of Knoydart that we would be climbing later. As I stood wondering how to get this section into the write up, I looked at the group around me. Now I will do my own version of the people in this expedition:

The Boys Group

John Siwek (me) - No intro needed, The Gerbil Boy

Andy Smith - No intro needed, The Monkeyman

James Smith - Into strange tacky metal music, sports spiky or Mohican gelled hair, Known to some as the traffic-light or The Carpet-Hair Man. Special skill - “James jokes”

James Kroll - Funny whinny voice, plays bass guitar, annoyingly clever but can be dim, likes to sing badly, likes Injuns a little too much, generally nice guy, - special skill- Kroll mating Call.

Alistair “Stevie” Nicholson - Legend. Irritatingly upbeat about nothing in particular, either smiles stupidly or with a quizzical expression when talked to, not the brightest button in the proverbial box. Problems with blisters. Special skill- asking inappropriate questions without really understanding what he’s saying eg. “is there anything beyond a retard?” said during Graph. Comm.

The Girls Group

Rebecca Niece - Tall, manwoman, often hyper or glum, smoker. Ok looking

Hannah Law - Classified

Alice Fraser - Friendly, polite, quite fit. Wants to go to Oxford Not much else to say

Kirsty MacRuary - Very fit, much like Alice appeared to be leader of the team, wants to join RAF.

The Teachers

Susan Turner - Canadian, nice, friendly, nervous smile, kinda scruffy, outdoor type.

Alex Turner - English, friendly, fit, all round good guy

Neil “Phil the Lycraman” Bennett - Post-man, Christian, fond of wearing Lycra, open hearted smile, upbeat, easy to get along with.

Anyway, on with the expedition.

We boarded the ferry after Andy took some pics. Then we sorted out the bags for a third time this time wondering if we should really have let James K. buy 21 sausages. Next we chatted outside for a while before going down stairs , bypassing some Americans saying “What is the temperature in Sweden like at this time of year?”, and into the main seating area. We handed over our £12 for transport fees, and sat together as the girls filmed their first bit of footage, and ate harrybo mix, (cheers Kirsty).

We came into Mallaig harbour, past the statue of the guy with the little girl and the pistols. We had an hour to spend before we could catch the “Western Isles” which disappointingly was not as rickety, small, or unbalanced as the Rona trip boat but a solid, wooden, vassal which even James S. was relatively happy to board. After an hour of realising that there really was nothing in Mallaig we met the assessor, Roger.

After getting rid of the sausages we boarded the boat. Loading our things on the back we sat down along with all the other passengers.

The sun was quite warm by now and we applied suntan lotion and leant back. After a while Roger Lanyon came over. He looked around mid 60s and needed a hearing aid but he seemed very strong for his age probably from an outdoor life. He went over a few things checking out our knowledge about health and safety matters. He seemed quite happy with us and didn’t really ask very hard questions.

We put on sun cream and enjoyed the view. On the side of a mountain was a white statue of the Virgin Mary (we think). It was a bit like something out of the Lord of the Rings. Roger later said that the area was a catholic area and that there many religious statues and things around.

As we pulled into the harbour at about 11am we could see that Inverie was a very small strip of houses along the shore. Along the harbour were locals and tourists, probably walkers like us, waiting to catch the boat to Mallaig. We climbed out onto to the harbour and walked up the road to the end of the harbour to organize ourselves. After decided that the boys group would go first we took a group photo. We left straight after that travelling up the path, past the most remote pub in Britain, and into the forest.

I was carrying the map but mainly because nobody else would. Andy capture a few photos. We walked along the steady, good conditioned path which went through a cool sun dappled pine forest. In which the best photo in the trip was taken by Andy.

After we exited the forest we had to stop because Stevie was complaining of blisters, which if left would get worse. He applied plasters but it was still very sore to walk but we decided to leave them and decide what to do at lunch a few minutes later. Meanwhile the girls walked past and were under the impression that we were stopping to eat (the cheek, we ate very little on that trip).

When we passed the girls group having lunch we stopped across the river from them where Roger was waiting. As we had our lunch he asked a few question and then we got to the subject of Stevie’s feet. There were two options: 1) He continued with them in the hope they wouldn’t be too bad for the next two day during which any medical extraction was impossible unless it was life threatening. Coping by constant checking and application of plaster and cream. Or 2) Dropping out now when it was only one hour away from civilisation and catching the boat back to Mallaig. We told Stevie that it was totally his decision and we would take his tent and other important equipment. He decided that the best option was to drop out now. He gave me his stove and cooking pots and James S. his tent. James was now carrying both his tent, Stevie’s tent and all his own equipment. Any of us would have take at least half the tent but it wasn’t offered. Roger and Stevie left and we set off again.

We walked down the dirt path into a valley between some Munros, following a river. It was shaded, but the sun was still very warm. Occasionally we would pass through a wood or two. One of them had a stone bothy with large windows on one corner. When we peered inside we could see that it was under renovation to above bothy standard featuring a stove and a upstairs loft. It was locked and a notice said it was owned by the mountaineering club or some organisation like that.

We carried onwards down the path, crossing a bridge to the other side of the river. Andy took a few more pictures and the rest of us started to climb the path that was getting steadily steeper. When we all rounded a corner we saw a very big hill that we were going to be climbing. The map made it look much smaller. Never the less we walked up it. Some of us strode, others walked, and some plodded, as we listened to our mp3 players. Andy and I co-ordinated our music by playing the Afro-celt sound system album at exactly the same time, from time to time some times singing along in a different language, that made James and James confused.

Slowly we made our way up the path that was our steepest climb of the day. James S. was finding it hard as he was the least fit in the group and struggled with hot weather and had to stop often to rest. Although I agree it wasn’t particularly easy I would have been happier if we went at a faster pace and didn’t stop so often. During these stops when ever I had a drink from my Platypus, Andy would try and snatch a suckle from the straw even though he had his own water in his bag but apparently it was difficult to get out. So I usually had to share some of my water with him but it didn’t matter as there was lots of rivers that we could use for water collecting. In the distance we could see the Girls at the top of the bealach (Dip between two mountain tops).

We eventually reached the top of the bealach. Standing at the top we could see how far we had come and how far we had to go. The view was spectacular.

After a short break we journeyed down the other side. The path became small and twisting. James K. and Andy were in front and James S. And Me were a little further behind. We could see a flat plain at the bottom and twisting river that we would have to cross. At the base of the hill we came to a heavily over grown part where the path disappeared. We forced and fell our way to a ruined farm. There we took a group photo which was harder then expected due to a coil of wire.

We got to the bridge, next to which a man was fishing with a quad park near by, clearly he took the easy way. The bridge its self was a few planks of wood on a couple of rusty wires. There was a sign next to it “This Bridge is dangerous and should be use at own risk.” That made us feel much better. It was actually ok and nobody died crossing it.

There was the option of walking by the shore or shortcut across the grass. We foolishly took the second option. The grass plain turned out to be a huge bog that we splashed and soaked our way through to the other side. During a rest we had a very weird conversation about if you could fuel a stove on farts. We wondered if it was flammable enough and how we would collect it. After much talk it was decided just to use normal fuel.

It turned out that we had got there too later (around 4:30pm) to get to the campsite by coast as the tide covered up the path. We instead had to climb up a hill and come up and then down to it. It was tiring and we slipped a few times. At last we reached the campsite and collapsed next to where the girls were. They had already pitched tent and were cooking. James S. and Andy pitched tents while James K. and I made dinner, stir-fry. It soon came apparent that I was a crap cook seeing as I didn’t know what to do only having made stir-fry once in 3rd year. The noodles were cold by the time we had located some oil to cook the vegetables. We found some in the bothy nearby. Altogether it was cold, tasteless and unsatisfying.

The teachers arrived and set up camp 200 feet away, enough for us to survive on our own but near enough encase an insane sheep gored us in the night. The evening was spent by playing family cards, or whatever their called. It got just too dark by 8pm so Alice, Hannah, Rebecca and James S. went to bed. Andy, James, Kirsty and Me stayed up talking and watching the stars in the moonlight. After a while it got too cold so we went to bed. The girls had one four man tent, Andy shared with James S.’s two man tent (with weird ventilation) and James K. and I shared Stevie’s three man tent.

9th September 2006 - Day Two

We woke around 9am after a relatively cold night. The girls had been up for a while earlier and were already having breakfast. We ate our breakfast of bread and cereal bars. We slowly packed everything up, James K. for some reason decided to pack inside Stevie’s tent which meant that we couldn’t take down the tent with him inside it. The girls left about 20 minutes before us.

Stoking up on water and applying sun tan lotion - it was a clear very bright hot day- we set off up the valley. It was overgrown and boggy at the bottom which made locating the path difficult. After a quick chat with the teachers we soon headed up the path. It had down graded from a solid, dry path to a stone/mud path.

During a rest, while the man clad in Lycra walked past, we saw a strange white creature in the distance at the bottom of the valley. It was white so could easily have been a sheep but its tail was long and its shoulder blades were to prominent. We thought it could have been a large cat but Neil said it was just an messy sheep so the mystery of the animal was solved.

The path carried on up, winding between the hills and boulders. It followed a river but crossed it at a shady wooden bridge. A quick pause to drink and take a few snaps and then we were back off again.

The path became quite steep and after a few hours began to level off at the top of the bealach. The path split off and we ended up taking a path that went off a cliff and into a river that we were supposed to cross, so we had to backtrack and cross it lower down.

By around 12am we had reached one of the highest points on that days route. We breaked again and Susan and Alex Turner caught up with us. We talked for a short while. Then we continued crossing the river again a few times, Until we reached the lochs. From then on the path basically disintegrated into mud.

By then we had fallen into a good system of walking. Walk for around 20+ minutes then rest of 5mins. The temperature was getting really hot, but we still had a lot of juice left in our non specific MP3 players to pass the time.

We were walking in between the mountains but we left them and the path passed on one side of the valley and widened out.

We stopped for lunch at the other highest point of that day. Lunch was pita bread with peppered salami that was actually really nice. We had two slices and one packet of salami each. I went to refill my platypus and I heard some weird shouting in the distance. Went I got back Kroll said he heard it as well but we thought nothing of it so if somebody had fallen and broken their legs and were shouting for help we ignored them.

The path was still bad but not as bad as before. There were quite a few rivers which we had to cross but they were clean and it was possible to drink from.

By around 4pm we could see a proper road in the distance so decided to take another rest. There was a large flat rock beside the path we collapsed on it. It was very pleasant just lying on our backs looking at the clouds. It was a good moment, four friends in the wilderness on a hot day. By two days in you could start to relax and not be bothered by when we had to be someplace, you are no longer affected by the modern world only by what is around you. It is all very simple, walk, eat, sleep. (That all sounds a little Ray Mearsesque)

After a while we continued on. The path curved downwards towards the start of long dirt road. James S.’ rucksack that had been causing him problems for the last 15 miles or so, perhaps due to the weight of two tents, broke. It was fairly small tare in one of the straps that supported the weight of the bag. We were about as far from anybody who could fix it as possible so James S. had to put up with it.

As we walked, our process was impeded by some highland cows that were lounging in the sun. They appeared very docile and we walked around them although extra care was taken near the bull.

Above us was a huge house that looked very new and only half completed. We decided that it was probably a private kind of lodge but it seemed to be in use and that it would be nice to own a house like that in this kind of place.

We slowly rounded the bend and saw the camping spot about half a mile away. We walked down the road past the farm. We walked past the teachers who were camping next to a broken down bridge.

When we got to the place the girls were camping, at about 5pm, we realised that we had to cross the wide shin deep river. So James S. powered through and the rest followed. When we got to the other side the girls said that they took off there shoes first, which in hindsight would probably have been a good idea.

We put up the tents and me and James K. made pasta which I didn’t muck up. Stevie’s tranga was working really slowly so James S. had a nice hot meal but mine was quite cold.

Roger came to meet us around 6pm, he inspected our camp and asked if we had any trouble that day. Then he left.

We watched a microlite take off from the farm and circle above us and then fly off. We also sighted a stag in the distance but it ran off. We then sat on some sleeping mats and talked but it got cold after a while and then moved into Stevie’s tent. That became very cramped and quite boring. We tried playing Family Cards again but it wasn’t very fun. Andy left to good for a walk and soon after Hannah left as well. The girls stretched out leaving very little room left for the rest of us. To be honest sitting in a tent with three girls wasn’t as fun as you’d think, they didn’t talk of anything particularly interesting. Although they did start to bitch about how Hannah was being annoying.

After a while it got dark and we decided to go to bed. I had to share with James S. in his tent with its weird ventilation system where condensation would form on the inside of the roof and drip onto your face.

Andy was meant to be sleeping with James K. but we hadn’t seen him for over an hour and he hadn’t told us where he was going so we decided that if he didn’t return after and hour or so we would go and look for him and tell the teachers. Luckily he returned 5mins later and laughed at your idea of looking for him.

With that we collapsed into sleeping bags at the end on day two.

10th September 2006 - Day Three

It had been a cold night and I woke about 8.30 by some drops of condensation falling on my head from the stupid ventilation system of James S.’ tent.. He woke a little while later and we talked quietly until the shout from Kirsty “O My God. There is a wild Boar in our camp. Get the Camera”. James and I shoved our head out the door just in time to see a boar run about 15metres away across the river. Andy and James K were too slow and went back into the tent.

As we were up we packed up our sleeping stuff and I changed into my clean trousers and some nice dry waterproof socks that wouldn’t soak up the gallons of water still in my boot. There weren’t many midges about as I went for a short walk to stretch my legs. It was quiet dull and cloudy and rain threatened to fall some time that day, not a good idea as we had enjoyed two whole days of sun . I wasn’t feeling very hungry and couldn’t be bothered unloading Stevie’s dodgy cooking stuff so James and I ate the remaining Brunchbars and Geobars.

By the time James K had ventured out the tent, the girls had already left. We packed up and got kitted up and left the camp around 10ish. We walked the same way as the girls round a hill following no particular route as the path had run out. We walked into a small valley with a river that looked almost blue in some parts. We rested there and James K. started to make porridge. I wished that I had afterwards but I left it too late. We packed up after our 30mins or so break and set off again.

The path was almost non-existent, it was so thin and would often disappear. It wasn’t a stone path it was mostly mud. We would follow it along the side of a valley that fell steeply down 30metres into a river from the mountains. We walked pasted a large water fall that looked quiet impressive. The ground levelled out more and we entered between the start of two mountains. The path became more defined but it occasionally crossed the river that had to be navigated over.

When we got further into the mountains the going was steady and relaxed. The path had improved greatly and was like the ones we were on the days before. We stopped for lunch around 12pm. We still had a large amount of food left, but we opened another packet of pita bread and cut up a large block of cheese for each of us. We could see the others further up at the top of the bealach. Unknown to us, the they had spent a brief period wondering if they had lost us. They couldn’t see us when they got half-way up the slope and wondered if we had in fact passed them somehow, when actually we were making porridge. Then they saw us eating lunch at the bottom of the slope.

We carried on up the slope which although steep was not very difficult but both James’ found it a bit of a struggle as they weren’t as fit as Andy or me. But eventually we got to the top passing the Turners. It was quite windy and had started to rain lightly for a few minutes. As we walked we passed a man that looked like the kind that would sell the big issue on the street corner. He looked badly prepared with an old jacket, rucksack and was carrying a Somerfield (or any one of the supermarket) bag in his hand. He stopped to say to us, “There is five lovely ladies in a bothy down the hill.” We wondered why he told us this and then we though that the girls group must be further down but there was only four of them but then we realised that Neil was also down there and the man must have mistook him for a woman, which is hard seeing as he in balding but does had man boobs so it must have been him.

As we walked down the other side of the mountain we were starting to see signs of inhabitation, like roads and the occasional house in the distance. The path got better and better. At the same time James S.’s bag became more and more broken, it was now lopsided and the tents would occasionally fall out. Eventually we came to a dirt road. Our feet were sore from walking downhill but Andy and I found it was easier to run down the road then walk but we had to wait for the others and we just started walking again.

We stopped again by a river and bridge and started having our second lunch of porridge for Kroll and Andy had something else and James Smith and I had the last pita bread with chicken and pita bread with chocolate raisins which actually tasted really nice. The Turners saw us eating again at there came the myth that we had around five meals on that walk which isn’t true; it was only three.

We walked by the bothy but didn’t go in, although it looked better then the others we had seen. The road levelled out onto a proper main road with no cars. It ran between forestry commission forests and was very peaceful. By then I had not been to the toilet for three days and was in a bad way but was determined to hold on to Glenfinnan, (it was very uncomfortable by the end but this is the last I will talk of this matter, for your sake).

After half an hours walking we were in view of the Harry Potter Bridge which is what we called it for that trip. From far off it doesn’t look that long but close up it is very high and it made our voices echoed a lot, especially the Kroll mating call.

We kept walking through outlying houses and crofts until we caught sight of Roger who greeted us and told us where to go. We ran the very last section to the vistor centre in Glenfinnan. Waiting was everyone else who had been there for ages before. We rested and filled in a questionnaire for Roger, then waited for the mini bus.

When it came driven by Mrs MacRuary who had spent the weekend shopping, we loaded it up and got in. Roger came up and said we had all passed. We set off home.

The bus smelt terrible because the girls had taken off their boots and socks but all we could do was open the window and just enjoy the seat. Those who could plugged in their MP3 players even though they had very little juice left in the batteries.

At Fort William we bought some food and drinks to keep us going. We set off again, talking in groups and listening to music. Mine packed out 40mins after Fort William irritatingly which meant I had to enter myself by listening to the teachers.

We got to Portree about 8ish and were picked up by our parents and said goodbye to everyone and were transported home.

It was very enjoyable, mainly because of the beautiful scenery and the hot weather. The actual walk was not technically difficult but 10+ miles a day as quite tiring. I was a good experience and counted towards our silver award although the landscape was god level but the time period was only silver award. I seem to have started rating these walks so:

Walk enjoyment= 7/10

Walk difficulty= 5/10

Landscape= 9/10

People involved=7/10

Overall=8/10

Andy's Comment - I was asked to do a presentation of the camping trip from the photos which I mainly took. I did it and handed it in as part of the award. I thought that was it until December when I had to show the presentation to all the DofE participants from all the years, their parents, teachers and other members of the community. I think it went down rather well. Here it is:

23 Miler

2005-07-16T00:00:00.000+01:00

When - 16th and 17th July 2005
Where - Around Glenmore and Breas, Isle of Skye, Scotland
Who - John Siwek

Account by John Siwek

With my birthday money I bought a Jungle Hammock from trek-direct which is run by a local bushcraft and survival instructor. It is a good quality, camouflaged, piece of kit originally made for the French Foreign Legion, so well up to Skye weather.

I wanted to test it out and had been looking at a walk that went in a loop from my house up the hill and into a wood near the 1st camping spot- I would camp there for the night- then in the morning I would go up the hill Andy and I went to on the 2nd trip (Stróc-bheinn), over to Skriaig, along Beinn na Greine, down to the road and back home.

This however didn’t quite work because as Guy Grieve- a Scotsman who abandoned everything in Scotland and went to live in the Alaskan bush for a year and succeeded, somebody I admire because of his determination when things went wrong and personal strength and attitude- said 'Always the first thing to go is the plan.'

The rest of my kit was really quite substandard. My jacket was not fully waterproof. My gloves were also not waterproof no matter what they claimed. My boots were not waterproof so I had to wear Sealskinz waterproof socks and my bag was a 40 litre, little, red rucksack that I had to lash a lot of my stuff, like sleeping bag and hammock, onto the back. Apart from that I was fine.

I set off a around 7pm. The bag was heavy and awkward. The weather was dry but a drizzly mist was threatening. I had been happily walking for around 45minutes before the mist started to encroach the hills. I was not too bothered by it at that stage hoping that the wind would sweep it away.

As I was nearing the forest when I hear something and then felt something solid hit the back of my leg. I suddenly felt very nervous, maybe there was something out there. I turned round but there was nothing there. Then I felt it again and looked down seeing my hammock hanging loose where I had connected it to my bag. I felt like a right idiot.

I reached the fence running parallel to the dense pine forest. I had a few weeks previously placed a stick in the fence at a point where there was a large enough gap in the trees for a hammock. Climbing over I entered the damp, dark of the forest. It had a harsh, unfriendly feel to it. As I splashed down the damp trail between the rows of trees I began to wonder if I should find a new place to sleep. I decided that it would take to long to find a decent place so I would just make do.

I laid out the hammock to find trees of the right distance. I found some but as I was trimming off some of the branches on one of the trees one of the branches fell off. I looked up to see it wobbled violently when I hit it. I had to find another one as I didn’t really want a tree spearing me in the night if it snapped. Luckily there were a few other trees that were sturdy and the right diameter.

By the time I had strung up the hammock it was dark in the forest. I went for a quite walk along the terrible forestry road beside the forest and called home. After that I went back and decided to go to sleep. The radio was not that great but I listened to it for a while until about 11pm. I slept for a while.

I awoke many time as I do when camping. There was silence, no wind, apart from the occasionally by a drop of water thumping on to the flysheet. I lay there until 4:15am when I gave up trying to sleep and got up. Eating a quick breakfast of bread and the traditional camping fare of Brunch Bars. My first night camping by myself was dull, not lonely as I did not mind being by myself, just dull. The radio at 4am is not very interesting.

I left the wood and walked down to the main road. Only a 4x4 pasted and I wondered what the driver though of a teenage guy walking out of a forest at a stupidly early time. I looked up at the hills I was aiming to climb. They were covered in thick mist and rain was coming in from the north. Not a good forecast but I continued on anyway.

I crossed the Varagill river and set off up the hill leading up to Stróc-bheinn. The dew was heavy and stuck to the shin deep grass. It quickly soaked me even through gaiters. I paused several times along the moor that separated Stróc-bheinn and the main road dodging bogs. Occasionally a indistinct form of a sheep would appear in the mist that I was heading deeper and deeper into. The sheep would regretfully rise up and wonder away from my wet, form striding through the bogs.

At that point I was still sure that I would be able to reach each of the hill tops that I was planning to hit. By 7am I was listening to Radio 1 where the DJ was reading out texts from people talking about the brilliant weather in England and people who were training for a marathon. It was not really helping my mood as the weather steadily got worse and I considered informing the DJ that not every where was so nice, but I didn’t.

I was getting closer to the top of the first hill when I called home. It was around 8:30am by that time and my mum answered. After the usual, 'Are you OK?', 'How was the hammock?', she said that I shouldn’t climb the hill if I think that the weather is too bad. I then had to explain that I had already been walking for 4hrs.

I continued on up to the top; or what I thought was the top. My map was not that easy to follow so I attempted to navigate by memory. So when at what I thought was the top I took a barring and set off. Unfortunately I was actually about 200meters from the top where there is a fake cairn so my barring started to head down the wrong part of the hill. The mist was so thick that there were no points of reference to guild by so it was almost impossible to navigate properly. I got further and further down until I realised that where I thought I was and where I actually was completely different. Nevertheless I was determined to reach the Skriaig masts. I walked around for 45mins or so never really getting any where. Mist is the most confusing weather to be in, meaning you can’t see anymore then about 50metres,at best, ahead of you.

It was really starting to get me down and the weather was not improving so I sat down to look at the map. I knew that no matter where I was on the hill that as long as I headed west that I would reach the Glenmore road. With that thought in mind I gave up trying to reach the masts and proceeded down the hill.

By following a fence I was led to a small grass road. It was connected to a farm on the Glenmore road about three quarters of the way down.

The rain was easing off to a fine drizzle. The radio show had changed so it was about 10 am. The radio kept me occupied for most of the way. I was determined to get home by my own two feet and not call for a lift.

I stopped for a short lunch of rice by the roadside two miles out of Portree. I didn’t do much to lift my moral and the midges weren’t much help either. I got up, arranged everything properly and heaved my bag onto my back. The rain then started to lash down soaking me more if that was physically possible.

I walked through Portree as quickly as possible aware that I still had five miles to walk. One miles out of Portree, just to make things worse, a small blister formed between two toes. After that I just started to get annoyed and when I.G. MacDonald stopped to ask me if I wanted a lift I decided yes. However because he was 30 metres away when he asked he misheard and drove off much to my annoyance. Then less than a mile away I was offered a lift again by a man who used to play the saxophone in the jazz band. I thought it would be pointless, as I was not very far away from the house. We talked about where I had walked and about the path that Andy and I had tried to find previously which he said he couldn’t find either. Later I was offered a lift only a hundred metres from my house.

I arrived home at last after having walked for nine hours that day and travelling 21 miles. I didn’t think of it as a bad camping trip but definitely not a good one.

Camping by yourself is different to camping with others; you are more concentrated on you aim- to get to where you want- so because of that you can push yourself and not have to worry about what everybody else wants to do and if you do something wrong nobody can blame you, only you can do that. You have completely rely on yourself in every aspect of living and that is satisfying. Although it has its advantages it also has its disadvantages too. If you get into trouble; fall and brake something or injure yourself in some other way it can be dangerous. Also its really quite dull one your own.

Camping enjoyment= 4/10
Walk difficulty= 4/10
Landscape= 3/10
Overall=4/10

The OOSA Trip

2005-04-23T00:00:00.000+01:00

When - 23rd and 24th April 2005
Where - Diubaig, Isle of Skye, Scotland
Who - Andy Smith and John Siwek

Account by John Siwek

After the brilliant experience of “The Great River Crossing of ‘94” Andy and I decided to return to the legendry area affectionately known as the “diub”. We met up at Andy’s house and left shortly afterwards when Andy had finally scrounged together all the equipment needed to make the perilous journey. Items brought included a machete and an axe plus the usual knives.

We were dropped of by Andy’s dad or mum (can’t remember) at the usual point of the Greshornish Hotel. Walking the dirt path for about a mile or so was much easier as we had sorted the way of carrying tent for the last time so it was much easier to transport. We reached the bay by early afternoon and crossed the river which was much lower than the last time.

We pitched the tent quickly next to the stone wall. Our next task was to make a fire. The beach was not very fruitful failing to supply us with enough wood to make a decent fire. However the was ample supply of burnable rope but sadly no rubber. So this meant we had to find and cut wood ourselves so it was time to bring out the big guns. Armed with machete and axe and knives we made our way to the woods in the distance. Crossing the river for the first time that far down because the river was to high on the last time. We picked up odd bits of wood and logs. Then we made the discovery of the small batch of deciduous trees. It was a great place to camp (we made note of this for future trips). Cutting some more wood, we eventually had enough. Using a relay system for dropping the large amount of firewood, we took small amounts of it dropped it went back for the rest and so on until we reached the camp. Lighting the fire with tumble dryer fluff was easy then putting on small woods was ok, but then it became a mad rush made up of collecting bracken to fuel to flames. We soon realised that we had run out of small bits of wood. Rope was piled on. It smouldered a bit so more bracken, then some bigger bits of wood. One person would attempt to keep the homestead fire burning while the other had dinner, (rice again.)

After it got dark we realised that it was a lost cause and chunked everything on. Then started jumping over it to see if we could singe our boots. Why you ask? Beats me. Crazy times.

We let the fire go. Sitting on a stone near the sea we ate salted pistachios spitting the shells into the water. We talked and watched the moon rise above the hills. We got to bed fairly early and sleep well, waking to the sound of wading birds and the sea.

We had a breakfast of brunchbars and bread. My hair was in a shocking state.

Andy got hold of the gas stove and proceeded to set some grass alight. But we put it out with my water bottle, which tasted of smoke afterward for a while.

We took down Force10 and I was attaching it to my bag while Andy climbed some rocks. He slipped and cut his leg but was ok.

We left soon after and was picked up by Andy’s parents.

It was a good trip even though not much happened.

Camping enjoyment= 6/10
Walk difficulty= 3/10
Landscape= 5/10
Overall=6/10

The Holy Tree

2005-03-31T00:00:00.000+01:00

When - 31st March and 1st April 2005
Where - Lyndale, Isle of Skye, Scotland
Who - Andy Smith, John Siwek and James Smith

Account by John Siwek

It was perhaps around 3am on the 1st of April that it was decided by all, each in our own heads, that this trip was the worst ever. Its status still holds after two years. Its wasn’t that it was cold or that it was windy or that it was wet but because it ground that we were attempting to sleep on was the most lumpy, churned up, uncomfortable piece of land that we have ever pitched a tent.

The three of us, Andy, James S. and John (me) decided to have a nice, relaxing, two-day camping trip to Lyndale which is situated about a mile or two from Andy’s house in Kildonan.

We were quite familiar with the area having gone there a few times before and named the place “The Holy Tree” because of a towering tree that had a huge low branch that was very comfortable to sit on. Why it exactly it was called the “Holy” Tree I can’t quite remember but it was some kind of reference to The Holy Grail, however it was definitely not holy in any way and was not cup of Christ shaped.

We took Andy’s eight-man tent with us. A huge space for three teenagers. Nevertheless we set out across the fields, swapping the tent between us because it was heavy and in a stupidly designed bag clearly made for family camping where you could drive up to the campsite.

It was windy but fairly dry. The Aussie hat that Andy brought often flew off the wearers head. When we reached the site mid-afternoon we made the discovery that in fact the ground looked deceivingly flat from a distance. It was in fact covered in hollows and humps. The field beside it was marginally better but it had twenty or so inquisitive cows who would lean over the fence and moo at us. We put up the tent with the motto, “Och, it will be fine.” It took a good while to set it up as it was acting much like a sail in the wind. A eight-man tent might not have been the best idea. It was dark by the time we had finished.

We made dinner- rice or something like that. We hadn’t asked permission for pitching in the field so we were a little nervous about an car that went past. James made some hot chocolate for us all but it was lukewarm and the chocolate powder clumped to the bottom of the cup. We had finished washing the cups and were running back to the where we would dive in. Andy and I jumped in but James ran into the door way catching his neck on it throwing him off his feet. It was very funny and he was ok. To do it once it unfortunate but to do it twice in a row is just stupid which is what he did. Aah, good times.

We went to bed, all of us in the one compartment. It was then when we realised that it was extremely uncomfortable. We tossed and turned, changed places, lay different ways but nothing was comfortable. Then in the wind part on the tent came loose. Andy and I went out in the dark and rain to sort it out but James (the lazy git that he is) just lay inside. When the tent emergency was over we went inside again to try and sleep.

I had a radio and listened to that for a while (until 3.30am). At one point we all got into a comfortable position all crammed to one end (damn slope!) It was ok curling your body around the bumps until somebody –cough-James-cough- decided he wanted to sleep at the other end so there was a big swap and nobody was comfortable after that.

I assume we did get some sleep at some point but we got up very early, before 7am. We ate some food, packed our stuff and proceed to take down the tent. There was misty rain and a strong wind so packing the tent was very difficult. We crammed it into the bag as best we could, bursting the zip in the process.

Plodding off back to Andy’s house didn’t take very long, we arrived around 9am. Went we were back we got a cooked breakfast that was very welcome.

That trip has gone down it Andy and John’s Great Adventures lore as the worst trip ever. From that trip we learnt a few things that have made us the great adventurers that we are today. Firstly, camp on flat ground or in a hammock, secondly, never bring an eight-man tent if there are only three of you. Simple things like that are vital, changing us from camping tenderfoots to hardened veterans of the camping world.

Camping enjoyment= 0/10
Walk difficulty= 1/10
Landscape= 3/10
Overall=1/10

Camping Trip No. 2

2004-07-11T01:00:00.000+01:00

When - 11th and 12th July 2004
Where - Braes, Isle of Skye, Scotland
Who - Andy Smith and John Siwek
Andy's Comment - I would have given this more than a 5/10. Maybe a 7.

Account by John Siwek

We had planned that the second camping trip would be along the lines of the first. I got both Andy and James out for my birthday, James went home and Andy stayed the night. It was planned that I would go camping with James in a few weeks after that, however that did not go through because of bad weather.

Andy and I prepared all our things, 2 small-medium rucksacks with our personal kit and then 2 extra rucksacks with the tent in it. This had to be shared between us. At the start they were attached to the back of the larger rucksacks but this proved to be very unbalanced (see fig. 1).

This was later changed, so that the tent rucksack was now on the front of the body making the going easier. (see fig. 2)

We left the house at around mid afternoon, taking some time to reach the same spot in the old barn that we used in the first camping trip. It was close to 4 o’clock when we got there. We pitched the tent and left our bags inside.

(The tent in question is my dads 30 year old tent. It is a one/two-if-you-can-stand-being-cramped man tent and is olive green on the outside and luminous orange on the inside. It weights about 4kg but is quite water proof and has good solid aluminium tent poles that come in very important 3 camping trips later.)

Using one of the smaller bags that carried the tent we took some food and water for dinner and set off on a walk up Stròc-bheinn. The hill is 400m high with smooth rising sides, an easy climb. Unfortunately we started off 1 miles away from the foot of it. We walked down to the main road, then over the river, next up the steeper slopes going up to the foot of it. After that we walked across the flat bogs to the real foot of the hill. All the time having many hilarious and fanciful discussions that have no idea what were about but I’m sure they were hilarious and fanciful.

When we reached the top we looked out across Skye, you could see from Braes to Carbost and from Uig to Sleat. Then we sat on a rock and had a meal of bread, cereal bars and cool beer (Oasis summer fruits original and Volvic touch of fruit strawberry flavour), I think we deserved that.

We spent the next hour or so exploring the hill. We found large mushroom shaped hills of peat so spent a while jumping off them while shouting “Elendil” swinging our walking sticks about.

Then came something that would pass into camping legend and later became a tradition to anyone of us who went back to the hill. We wrote “***** ********* ******* **/*/90 is sexy”. A fitting tribute to her, we thought.

At around 7 o’clock we made our way back down going by the side of the hill, rolling part of the way. Back across the peat bog flats and to the edge of a forest. Somehow we battled though the wood ignoring texts for Andy’s mum wondering why he did not contact his “long suffering mother”. Finally we got to the road and wandered back along to the way we came in to get to the road and walked back to the camp. Not before phoning my parents and lying that we had got to the tent ages ago even though we were about an hour away.

The night was peaceful and dry. We got up at around half-eight-ish, had breakfast (bread, Brunchbars probably), and packed up the tent.

While setting off we found a way of carrying the bags which we christened “The Frodo and Sam Technique” (see fig. 3).

As you can see one person is very over laden while the other is quote “happy as a daisy”.

We didn’t use this technique for long although it was quite well balanced.

While walking we stopped for a break and three deer ran past well disguised in the heather and long grass. Then I looked up and above us was a golden eagle circling. That was quite cool.

We reached my house just before lunch.

That trip was classed as fun but not very taxing. 5/10

Camping Trip No.1

2004-05-15T00:00:00.000+01:00

When - 15th and 16 May 2004
Where - Braes, Isle of Skye, Scotland
Who - Andy Smith, John Siwek and James Smith

Account by John Siwek

On the 15th - 16th of May Andy, James and Me (John) planned a camping trip. It took a few weeks to get everything planned, who was to take what, where we were going to go and when we were going to go. Most importantly and difficultly we had to persuade our parents to let us go, being 13 at the time. But finally we had everything arranged.

We met at the Co-op on Saturday morning at around 12:00. My parents picked us up and drove us back to my house. We had lunch and made final checks then set off around 2 o’clock. It was very tiring as all of us had taken way too much. Along with that we shared the carrying of James three-man tent which is in no way lightweight. The journey that would normally take around 40 minutes took almost 2 hours. We can blame that on the fact we were pausing every 100 metres or so.

Arriving at the campsite, an old fallen down wall circle or it might have been a house at one point but what ever it was, there was enough room in it for the tent. A small tributary burn of the River Varragill called Lòn na h-Airigh tickled past the spot. James’ three-man tent is not the easiest of tents to put up. It has annoying collapsible poles that had a habit of collapsing when you are trying to put them through the slots. Andy and I were mainly just prating around and not really helping with the tent. This got James really quite irritated with us. Although as far as I saw it he was taking it much too seriously, but understandably the tent was a lot of hassle.

Once it was up we decided where we were going to sleep and set out the sleeping mats and bags. Next we ate a dry, cold dinner of bread, chocolate, energy bars and the like. I was not allowed to take the gas stove for some reason I have forgotten.

For evening entertainment we went for a walk. A mile or so away was a forest then the main road and beside that was the river and on the other side another forest. First we walked though the first forest following a track that Andy and I had made on a previous walk weeks before. When we reached the river Andy and I managed to find a place to cross but James was unable to cross for some reason, either he was scared of the water or he didn’t want to get a little wet. Either way we walked along the river while James was on the other side. We shouted over to him to help him across. But still he didn’t get across. Then I remember about the stone bridge a few hundred metres up river. By the time we all got their, my voice had become very hoarse with calling to James and I had started to sound a bit like Louis Armstrong (a difficult feat).

We decided to walk up into the other forest. I can’t remember if it was decided or if I said that’s what we would do. Walking halfway up the path I had the great idea of walking through the forest. This is something that is definitely not best of ideas but something that would be repeated many times on other camping trips. Andy and James had a lot of trouble walking in between trees, getting stabbed by rouge twigs and stuff. I on the other hand merely dodged and ducked between them. After we escaped the woods we found Andy had been stabbed in the eye and was not best pleased. So we walked back to the bridge.

The bridge itself was being worked on and their was still the scaffolding and boards under it. We thought it might be quite interesting down there. Walking down along it was not as scary as I had first thought, in fact the builders had made it quite safe. There was a nice little network of levels and ladders. Making sure nobody was there we came up from there back to the road.

We walked along the road close to where we had come from. But when it was my turn to climb over the fence as I was lifting up my leg it suddenly went into the wrong position and it seized up or something. Now that is very painful but is worse when you have the threat of barbed wire under a delicate part of anatomy and nowhere to fall but bog. So I just stayed in the same place until it died down. Andy and James however just laughed a bit until I explained. Along the way we started to muck around a bit and I tried the kind of leap that you start on the ground and jump straight to your feet. When I tried this my leg did the same thing. More excruciating pain enough to make my eyes water. James still laughed and said to Andy, “Let’s go” and just walked off leaving me. Andy walked a little way and then came back and helped me up but my leg did it again. So I just lay down to let to came down enough to let me walk. James finally came back and we set off again back to camp.

It was almost dark by the time we reached it. We then got ready for bed. James was still annoying me a bit, although for the rest of the evening Andy and I listened to the Eurovision song contest. Turkey won.

I seem to remember going to sleep with everyone in a row but when I woke up Andy was stretched along the side, I was lying diagonally across the tent and James was in a small ball in the corner. We rose and had another dry, cold breakfast and phoned our parents to say we had survived the night and not been eaten by wolves, bears, sheep or grouse. I was still in a mood with James and walked off as he single handily took down the tent.

We got everything together around ten-eleven-ish and set off again. We weren’t that tired waking up at nine-ish. It was a relatively good camping trip. Not bad weather, not bad campsite and not too midge. We arrived back at home at around lunch time. All in all not a bad two days.