CHAPTER 7 Hiking in Glen Feshie
It was decided that they would go on a two-day hike in the Scottish Highlands and Jock would carry both sleeping bags, emergency kit, food, fuel and utensils. Mary would carry her personal gear, the chocolate and fruit. The plan was to take the sleeper train to Blair Athol, walk up Glen Tilt and on to Glen Feshie, stay the night in the bothy at Aiteachairn and then walk to Kingussie. If the weather was good, they might climb a hill on the way to Kingussie and would stay in the Duke of Gordon Hotel, a night of luxury after two days of hardship.
Jock told Mary to ensure that she had warm clothing as it could get very cold in the Cairngorms, even in October. She was looking forward to the weekend as she had never done anything so adventurous before. She felt just a little bit apprehensive but knowing that Jock was with her gave her a comfortable confidence.
When the long-awaited weekend arrived, Mary was at Euston Station long before Jock. She watched him arrive, carrying his massive rucksack. It never failed to amaze her that when she saw him after an absence, the glow of self-satisfaction, longing and hint of desire that came over her always took her by surprise. After their usual passionate embrace, they sought out their small sleeper cabin. They decided to have a small nightcap in the bar of the hospitality carriage before retiring and talked about their forthcoming trip.
Going to the toilet before she went to bed, Mary wondered if they
would sleep in the same bunk. Her doubts were answered when she entered the
cabin as Jock was fast asleep on the top bunk and breathing deeply. Mary looked
at her man and thought he was the answer to her prayers, she was so much in
love with him. The steady rhythm of the train on the rails soon lulled her into
a deep sleep too.
Next morning,
just as the train pulled into Pitlochry, they were awakened by the steward with
a tray of coffee and fruit juice,. By the time they arrived at Blair Athol they
were ready to disembark. Stepping down onto the platform, Mary was aware of the
cold air on her cheeks and the short walk to the local hotel made her realise
just how hungry she was.
Once fortified by a huge breakfast at the hotel, they set off up
the steady incline of Glen Tilt. After two hours of walking at a steady pace,
they reached the highest point of the glen and stopped for their first break.
They were
just about to set off again when an almighty bellow came from the ridge above
them. It echoed all around the Glen. “What’s that!” exclaimed Mary, with a hint
of panic in her voice.
“It’s only a
red deer stag issuing a challenge to any other stag to stay away from his many
girlfriends,” answered Jock, “To me it’s a true symbol of the Highlands. The
heavy frost seems to set off their hormones. Just like me, when I’ve not seen
you for a week.”
“That wasn’t
the case last night!” retorted Mary, “You’ll have to make up for it tonight.”
They both
laughed and set off in good spirits as the sun started to melt the
frost-tainted grass and heather.
At lunchtime,
they stopped at a small waterfall in Glen Geldie to eat the chocolate and
fruit, washed down by a small flask of tea.
Mary was
curious and a little apprehensive about this bothy where they were going to
spend the night, especially as Jock had told her that they would either have it
to themselves or it could be filled to capacity. She was also shocked when Jock
produced two cardboard boxes, smaller than a shoe box and told her that they
contained all of their food for the next twenty-four hours. They were army
ration packs, nicknamed rat packs by the squaddies, replacing the old-fashioned
tins of compo that the army were still using from the second world war.
Their next
stop was at a huge waterfall in Glen Feshie. Mary was beginning to feel tired
and lay down on a flat piece of grass while Jock prepared a snack for them. The
setting sun still gave a little heat which warmed Mary’s face. As Jock gave her
the last of the sweet tea from his flask, he pointed to the sky above her. An
eagle was gliding several hundred feet above them before landing on a rocky
crag.
“That’s the
first time I’ve seen a Golden Eagle,” said a delighted Mary. “I wish I had a
camera handy.”
“Get it now,”
Jock answered and indicated to her right. A huge stag was walking across the
River Feshie to a little knoll in front of them. He was a magnificent specimen
and, as they were upwind of him, he was unaware of their presence. He stood on
the top of the knoll, about twenty-five yards away, and gave an almighty
bellow. Mary got several photos of the stag in full majesty before he trotted
off further upstream, roaring his lungs to their highest volume.
“We should
reach the bothy before dark,” commented Jock, “and I’ll cook you a three-course
meal.”
“Looking forward
to that,” was Mary’s reply.
There was a
nip in the air and the sky was turning a rosy, red colour when they reached the
bothy. Another two couples were already there and appeared to be having
difficulty lighting the log-burning stove.
“Allow me,”
intervened Jock. “If you take that green wood out of the stove, I’ll go around
and get some dry dead wood from the old pine tree outside.”
Five minutes
later, Jock came back into the bothy with a huge armful of dead wood. In no
time at all, he had a roaring fire which started to warm up the bothy. While
Mary laid out the two sleeping bags in the far corner, Jock was busy cooking
their meal. In less than fifteen minutes he had produced a meal of soup,
all-in-one stew and rice pudding with raisins. Mary was very impressed. They
sat on a bench outside and drank strong coffee, watching the sun set over the
western sky.
Mary felt
content, happy to be with her man. She was physically tired but pleased with
her day’s exercise.
Later, in
their individual sleeping bags, they played chess with the aid of a head torch.
As usual Mary won but thought it was getting harder for him to beat him each
time they played.
The other
couples got into their sleeping bags and everyone was asleep by nine o’clock.
An hour later, they were rudely awakened by two male latecomers who made no
attempt to curtail the noise they were making. It was obvious their behaviour
was affected by alcohol consumption as every second word was a profanity. Their
accents informed them that they were from the Glasgow area.
Jock spoke in
a very polite yet authoritative voice, “Steady on lads, there are women here so
cut out the bad language please and make less noise.”
He was
answered by a string of foul oaths and the final words, “We’ll sort you out in
the morning,” from one of the men who was apparently called Jimmy. With the
prospect of a round of fisty cuffs, an eerie silence filled the bothy and
everyone tried to go to sleep.
Next morning,
as daybreak filtered through the bothy’s window, Jock got up first and put on a
pair of trainers. Mary shuddered at how cold it was.
“Right!”
challenged Jock, “Who is this guy called Jimmy wanting a square go? Get up and
come outside!” The muscles on Jock’s vest-clad torso rippled as he strode to
the door.
“I’m sorry
pal. I had too much to drink last night,” came a very meek and subdued voice.
“My
goodness!” replied Jock, “Last night you were King Kong and this morning you’re
like a stalk of last year’s rhubarb! Give me your cup and I’ll make you a
strong coffee. After that you should apologise profusely to the womenfolk.”
Several
minutes later, Jock appeared with a cup of hot coffee for Mary and then a
little later with another one for the Glaswegian called Jimmy. He finally
appeared with one for himself and sat beside Mary, giving her a choice of
breakfast from the army ration packs. He told her that he had lit the stove and
he was going to wash in the River Feshie before breakfast.
When Jock left, one of the women who was still in her sleeping bag
spoke to Mary. “That is quite a man you have. He handled that situation
perfectly.” Mary agreed with her and thought life is never dull when he is
around. After breakfast Mary and Jock were sitting outside with their final
coffee and planning the day’s hike. They decided to climb Carn Ban Mor before
going to Kingussie.
While Jock was washing the utensils in the burn, Mary was talking
to the two other couples at the stove when they were approached by Jimmy who
made a genuine apology to the company. He then asked Mary what her man did for
a living.
“Oh, nothing
special,” was the answer, “He teaches martial arts in London,” and she winked at
the other couple.
“I thought I
recognised him,” said one of the men, “Did he not get a silver in the last
Olympics for Judo, it was a very controversial decision.”
At that the
Glaswegian turned even paler and left the room, muttering to himself. The five
of them burst out laughing.
Mary later told
Jock about the conversation and he just laughed and shook his head.
All morning
as they climbed the hill, they could hear stags roaring and when the sun came
out it got very warm, making them sweat. The view from the summit was
incredible as the tops of the Cairngorms were white with the first snow of the
winter. Loch Einich with its dark waters, contrasting with the bright sunlight.
In the glen, the bright autumn colours of the birch trees blended with the
sombre green of the Caledonian pine. They drank in the scenery like some rare
wine, not wanting to leave but necessity forced them to return to the foot of
the Glen by a long traverse of a Land Rover track.
Talking about
their plans and many different subjects, time passed very quickly. Coming to a
tarmacadam road, Jock pointed out a run-down smallholding at Achlean and spoke
of its potential.
As they
passed the car park, a vehicle was coming out and stopped beside them. The
driver and passenger were one of the couples from the bothy and they offered
Jock and Mary a lift to Kingussie which they gladly accepted. As they passed
Ruthven Barracks Jock asked to be dropped off and he and Mary explored the
ruined building.
They spent so
much time exploring Ruthven Barracks that they had to hurry to the Duke of
Gordon Hotel as their allotted time for dinner was fast approaching. When they
passed the local shinty pitch, Mary smiled at Jock’s antics as he expressed his
admiration for the local shinty team. It’s the first time I’ve seen the boy in
the man, mused Mary.
After
checking into the hotel, they had just enough time for a quick shower and
change of clothing before going to the dining room. Mary was surprised at the
number of guests who all seemed to be senior citizens from the Midlands of
England. They found out that they were on several coach tours run by Cairngorm
Travel, who used the hotel as a base to tour the Scottish Highlands. Mary and
Jock were soon engaged in conversations with all the guests at their table and
found them to be good dining companions.
After the
meal, there was entertainment with singers and Scottish dancing and old-time
music for the senior citizens to dance to. Several men danced with Mary and the
women danced with Jock. Both really enjoyed themselves and it was when the
entertainment finished that Mary realised how tired she was.
Back in the
room, getting ready for bed, Jock discovered that he had forgotten to submit
their breakfast menu, so he hurried down to reception with it. Mary slipped
into bed and it crossed her mind that this was their third night together and
they had not made love, although due to circumstances beyond their control.
When she
opened her eyes again, she looked at the time. It was eight o’clock in the
morning and she was alone in bed. Jock had been in bed but was now out running
somewhere.
He arrived
back ten minutes later, soaked in sweat, mud-stained and carrying his
hill-walking boots.
“You’re awake
then,” was his cheerful morning greeting before heading for the shower. “Any
chance of a coffee?”
Mary laughed but her body ached for his
presence. She got out of bed and walked naked into the shower.
“I’m offering
more than coffee,” she said and their ensuing childish antics in the shower
carried on into the bedroom, almost making them late for breakfast.
At reception
they were told they could leave their luggage in their rooms until they caught
the sleeper train to London in the evening. They had breakfast and then caught
a bus to Newtonmore where they spent the morning in the Highland Museum. They
were enthralled with it and Jock was amazed at all the shinty artefacts. They
walked hand in hand back to Kingussie, with Mary thinking how wonderful life
was. They had a look at the local shinty field and stadium and spent the rest
of the day browsing in a huge tin shed which was full of all sorts of goods and
antiques. It was there that Jock saw a small bronze ornament of a Highland
clansman, with claymore and targe, in a warlike pose. After a lot of haggling
with the owner he gave it to Mary to remember their weekend in the Highlands.
Mary was overjoyed and once again impressed with Jock’s generosity.
They made their way back to the hotel and ate their evening meal
in the bar. They enjoyed good conversation with some of the senior citizens who
had been on a bus tour and were having a little light refreshment before their
evening meal.
Catching the sleeper train in the evening Mary felt tired, blaming
the pure Highland air, and went straight to bed.
When they
reached London next morning, they enjoyed a passionate farewell embrace, to the
amusement of hurrying commuters, before going their separate ways. Again, the
saying ‘parting is such sweet sorrow’ crossed Mary’s mind.
Arriving at
the block of flats, she gave Dusty Miller a presentation box of four beers from
the brewery in Aviemore. His face lit up with a huge smile of gratitude and
asked kindly after Jock and how the weekend had been.