Wed & Thurs 6-7 October - Loch Kinardochy and Perth

Where was Bertie? Wed: a second night overlooking Loch Kinardochy. Thurs: a supermarket car park in Perth (because we are, after all, living the dream...) 
Weather: Wed: sunny and calm with a rising temperature; Thurs: wet and low cloud but calm and warm.

Wednesday
I think it was in June this year, some four and a bit years after we bought Bertie, that I thought to investigate the timing function on his heating system. I now wonder why we never used it before, and I've had it permanently set on this trip to put the heating on 15 minutes before we're due to get up. Even though it only takes a few seconds to hop out of bed and turn it on, it's so much nicer to have the space already warm before emerging from the duvet.

This morning the chill was well and truly gone by the time my alarm sounded at 0630, but I still struggled to spring out of bed, perhaps because it was still dark out. We didn't lounge around too long, though, and at 0650 we pulled into the car park at the start of the path up Schiehallion (I've described the walk itself on t'other blog, that you'll find by Clicking here).

With the weather so fine, after lunch I headed off up another hill and, per standard practice, I sent Mick a message to let him know I'd reached the top...

...His response was that he was just watching a motorcyclist being loaded into an ambulance.

I was picturing a horrific road traffic accident, and finding Mick in need of sweet tea, but the reality was less dramatic. A group of five bikers (two of whom were aged 68 and 80; the rest were likely in a similar bracket) had pulled into the car park. After the obligatory photos (a lot of people pull into that car park, take a couple of photos, read the sign about the lime kiln, then leave again), they'd remounted their machines and started pulling out of the car park. All should have been well, but as one of them turned his bike around to leave, his back wheel slid on the grit surface and down he went.

Mick naturally offered any assistance he could give, but they'd already called an ambulance and there wasn't anything else they needed, other than for Mick to keep an eye on the injured (broken hip being the presumption) chap's bike whilst two of them rode over to Montrose to drop off their own bikes and return in a car.

By comparison, I had a completely uneventful afternoon.

After a day of excellent weather, the rain that was forecast to come in at 2100 arrived an hour early. It mattered not to us. We settled down to watch a bit of downloaded TV and, in my case, to cast on the socks I'm supposed to be knitting for someone. I pulled out the yarn, weighed it to check I had enough, checked how many stitches I need to cast on, then dug out my case of knitting needles. Inside I found the appropriate packet for the set I needed ...but it was empty. Darn it! I so nearly brought with me the fingerless gloves I started knitting in the spring, that got semi-abandoned when I realised I'd knitted seven eighths of the first one on the wrong size of needles. I will eventually pull that glove back, but in the mean time it's sitting at home on the wrong sized needles, and that's the size I need. At least I've got plenty of yarn with me to continue with the blanket I'm making instead.

Thursday
Mick got up first and reported that the cloud was so low that he couldn't even see the far side of the road. With a light rain falling, and the knowledge that I was going up another hill this morning, this didn't instill a sense of joy in me!

Although I got considerably wet on my hill (whilst also sweating cobs, because the temperature had risen remarkably since yesterday morning), it wasn't a bad little outing, and I was up and down it in only a few seconds over an hour.

Not knowing where we were going next, we procrastinated on making a decision by having a substantial elevenses (or maybe early lunch) and coffee, and when we did finally pull out of the 'community land' car park just before noon, it was to Perth we headed.

Stopping at Aldi on the edge of town, I first nipped into the Tiso outdoor store that sits in the same retail complex. There I nearly bought a pair of boots, and did buy a new merino wool top (one of my existing ones now has four patches on it and is threatening to hole in so many more places that I think that I have to declare it dead. Only had it 11 years too.)

With the weather being as it was (wet and miserable) we weren't going to be doing anything out of doors for the rest of the day, so a supermarket car park seemed as good a place as any for us to sit. Better, really, as even though we've positioned ourselves in a far corner, our wifi booster has been able to connect to the store wifi and, over the course of several hours, I've been able to download a couple of TV programmes I want to watch.

There's a possibility that if the weather perks up a bit in the morning we might go and do something cultural, as I'm now done with hills for this trip.

Tuesday 5 October - Loch Kinardochy

Where's Bertie? He's in a car park overlooking Loch Kinardochy (Perth & Kinross).
Weather: Overcast and breezy with a few short light showers.

Considering the comments I made yesterday about Ardgualich Farm Campsite, it's perhaps surprising that, at approaching 10 this morning, Mick left Bertie with £21 in his hand to extend our stay. Fortunately there wasn't anyone in the office and by the time he got back I'd done a bit more research into tomorrow's plan that suggested that maybe staying another night wasn't the best option.

An example of tat lying around the campsite. This isn't hidden behind a building. The white door is the gents toilets/shower, and the protruding wall adjacent is the toilet emptying point.

We loitered until nearly lunchtime, making use of the electric hook up, putting a bit more water (peaty in this case) in Bertie's tank and availing ourselves of the drains again before we left. We then drove first west then south on the little B roads to this location, where we parked with both Schiehallion and Loch Kinardochy being key features in the view from Bertie's windscreen.

Bertie and Schiehallion

Bertie and Loch Kinardochy

Perth & Kinross council reacted to the parking chaos in between lockdowns last summer by slapping temporary traffic regulation orders, creating clearways, on sections of roads around here (not unreasonably, in my opinion). They have also posted 'No Overnight Parking' signs in the larger laybys*, such that this seems to be the only car park in the area that is unrestricted. It suits us just fine, though, as it positions us nicely for a jaunt up Schiehallion tomorrow, assuming the weather forecasts I saw this morning hold true that there's going to be a short-lived fine spell of sunshine and low winds. I certainly wouldn't want to be up there as I type this; if it's this windy at this altitude, I think I'd struggle to stay upright on the top.

As for today, our sole activity out of doors since arriving here has been a walk up the track behind Bertie, to investigate how feasible it looks to approach the Corbett of Meall Tairneachan from here. We timed ourselves just right, getting back to Bertie just as a shower came in.

(*I'm tempted to do a little digging into the legality of those signs. They're almost certainly not enforceable as they stand.)

Friday 1st to Monday 4th October - Inverness, Newtonmore & Dalwhinnie

Where was Bertie? Fri: Torvean Car Park, Inverness (£5 donation); Sat & Sun: Layby near Dalwhinnie; Mon: Ardgualich Farm Campsite (Loch Tummel) (£21)
Weather: A mixture of overcast, sunshine and showers each day, with varying quantities of each (but mainly overcast or raining). Daytime highs of between 9 and 12 degrees.

A lazy start was had on Friday, before we tootled down to Inverness mid-morning. There we parked Bertie at Morrison’s where they have a Pay & Display car park, but with refunds given based on how much you spend in store.

As we were slightly abusing their car park (i.e. we did also go into the city), we thought we would eat in their café, as well as doing a bit of shopping, thus legitimising our visit. Knowing our ability to loiter in supermarket cafes (our record was 5 hours in Morrison’s in Fort William during one particularly rainy visit), we erred on the side of caution and bought a 3-hour ticket, even though we knew we would only spend enough to get a refund for 2 hours. Except, it turns out that they don’t give partial refunds. If you buy a 3-hour ticket you have to spend £50 or you get nothing back. We could see various flaws in this policy, and mostly annoyingly, it had become clear that we were going to be done within 2 hours of arrival*, so if we’d just bought the 2-hour ticket, we would get a refund, but because we erred on the side of caution, we got nothing. The ending to this story was surprising. After our meal, I took my rant to the customer service desk who, rather than meeting my request of refunding 2 hours, surprised me by giving me the whole £4 back.

Views from behind Inverness Castle

The rest of our day involved praise rather than censure. In response to the realisation that the number of motorhomes touring the Highlands far exceeds the number of campsite spaces available, Highland Council has started a process to allow overnight parking in some of its car parks. The newly created Torvean Car Park is one of the first to have dropped the ‘No parking of vehicles manufactured or adapted for the purpose of sleeping’ clause, allowing us legitimately to stay there. It was a happy coincidence that the car park also happens to be metres away from the location of Torvean parkrun, meaning for the second week in a row that we could roll out of bed and run.

I don’t know why boy racers don’t frequent that car park (maybe they haven’t noticed its existence yet?), but we had the 200 spaces entirely to ourselves on Friday night. On Saturday morning it became besieged, as this wasn’t just any parkrun morning; this was the parkrun the day before the Loch Ness Marathon, giving an influx of parkrun tourists. It was an early influx too, as it seems that quite a number of the English contingent weren’t aware that parkruns start at 0930 in Scotland (it’s 0900 in England).

The course (which we’d vaguely recce’d on Friday afternoon, until it rained just as we were at the far end of the park, causing us to scurry back to Bertie) isn’t going to go down as one of my favourites, but it does have the pleasing feature that you can see almost the whole course at all times. With it being a 2.5 lapper, that meant that by the second lap there was a trail of people spread out across every bit of path in the park. 

As the car park emptied afterwards, we showered and I repeatedly stuck my head into the cavity between Bertie’s two floors (having taken a screwdriver to a divider the previous evening so as to give access). We’ve had a couple or three incidents of water where water shouldn’t be under the floor (the first being in Spain in early 2020, but Bertie didn’t have much use for the next 12 months for any repetitions), and I’ve been trying to work out where it’s coming from. I thought last week that I’d finally sussed it, and that we had a crack in the foremost of the two drains in the shower. Alas, if it is that, then the exact conditions required to cause the leak weren’t present on Saturday.

Two plastic tubs and some kitchen towel, but not a drop of water to be caught

It was just after lunch by the time we arrived in Newtonmore for the TGO Challenge Scottish Reunion (a happy coincidence that it was scheduled when we were in the area) and our first priority was to return the Munro and Corbett guides that I’d borrowed from Sue (at Newtonmore Hostel) on our way north. A cup of tea with Sue & Neil, then a walk up the road for a cup of tea with Ali & Adrian, then a walk back to Bertie, and it was time to head down the road to the Balavil Hotel.

In spite of the unanswered question as to why you would serve haggis, neeps and tatties in a giant Yorkshire Pudding, a good meal was had, together with much chatting and the winning of a book in the raffle. 

With 11pm approaching, it was time for us to absent ourselves and decide where we were going to spend the night. There were various possibilities around Newtonmore, but none of them were overly satisfactory, so in the end we chose to drive the 15 minutes down the road to the location north of Dalwhinnie. It was only on Sunday morning that I realised the flaw in this plan: with the tea-tea-reunion activities occurring without a break on Saturday afternoon, I’d failed to visit the Co-op. We were now 9 miles from the Co-op, had no bread and only one more day’s worth of porridge oats. 

Fortunately, thanks to my aborted Pennine Way trip at the beginning of August, I did have a whole package of noodles, flavoured cous-cous and the like, which (with the addition of a few vegetables) gave us perfectly acceptable lunches (albeit late lunches, given we didn’t take the noodles up the hills with us).

On Sunday after an extended period of poring over electronic maps, a road atlas and hill-bagging.co.uk, I came up with some semblance of a plan for the next few days, starting with the bagging of a hill just down the road from where we were parked. With that being the only thing on our agenda for Sunday, we thought we may as well spend another night in the same layby, as we knew there was nowhere better to stay between there and Monday morning’s hill.

Approaching Sunday's hill, before the weather turned against us

Monday morning dawned reasonably bright, but unfortunately didn’t stay that way, so for the second consecutive day Bertie’s shower room got festooned with dripping outerwear as soon as we got back from our hill. Lunchtime was by then upon us, and we were very much in need of cups of tea, but with Bertie parked on a slope we opted to drive down to Blair Atholl before addressing those needs.

Parking across the road from the campsite in Blair Atholl, it would have made sense to go there, but we’ve never been fans of that site, and I’d become aware of this one on the shore of Loch Tummel. It was a few miles out of our way, but the reviews were excellent and the photos enticing. 

So, after lunch and a quick trip to the Spar shop to resolve the bread and oats shortage, along a windy road we came. My verdict was that it was worth coming here to see if it’s a better stop-over than Blair Atholl, but we won’t be returning. The location is impressive, but the facilities are unfinished and dirty, and the site (on a farm) is far from well presented with all sorts of tat, that really should have been disposed of, scattered around the buildings. Compared to other sites, it’s overpriced for what it is. 

View from Bertie's front bumper

 
(*In the end we went over 2 hours, because it took the café 35 minutes to serve our food, serving first everyone around us, even thought they’d arrived later, and when my burger did finally arrive it was cold. Somehow we managed to resist eating the huge slab of chocolate cake we’d bought for pudding whilst we were waiting, which then delayed us further.)

Mon-Thurs 27-30 September

Where was Bertie? Mon: near the harbour at Nairn; Tues: Culloden Moor Caravan Club Site (£18.30); Wed & Thurs: Parking area alongside the A832, above Munlochy Bay, just E of Munlochy.
Weather: Mon: Very wet until mid-afternoon; Tues & Thurs: sunny intervals; Wednesday: mainly sunny. Much cooler than last week.

Let me just nip back to Sunday to a small incident I forgot to mention: after arriving in Lossiemouth the first thing we did was to have a cup of tea and watch the world go by. Just as we were finishing up, another motorhome arrived and a few moments later a car alarm started sounding. As is the norm when that happens, we had a little look around the car park to see whose indicators were flashing, assuming it was the recently arrived motorhome, but there were none. The alarm continued. After a short while Mick asked "Is it Bertie?". "It does sound awfully close" I said. Yep, it was us. Given that Bertie's alarm hadn't been armed since the previous day, it was a bit of a mystery. We can only assume that, as Mick had the keyfob in his pocket, he must have accidentally sat on the 'arm' button.

Now fastforward to Monday, when there was a weather warning for rain, and rain it did. Whilst not torrential, it was persistent with large drops, and by the time we drove into Elgin at around 9am some roads were flooded.

We got wet walking into town, enjoyed a greasy-spoon breakfast where we observed that maybe around 20% of customers were abiding by the ongoing Scottish legal requirement to wear face coverings in inside public places. We then got wet walking back to Bertie, before driving him over to National Tyre.

It can be difficult finding a tyre pressure gauge/inflator in an ordinary garage that goes up to 5 bar (some say they do, but after you've put your pound in the slot you discover that they lie), and it had been a disgracefully long time since Bertie's tyres had been checked. All the national chains offer free checks (presumably in the hope that they can spot a defect on some tyres whilst they're at it), but apparently nobody told the staff in the Elgin branch. That said, they didn't refuse, and we came away with the knowledge that Bertie's tyres are still airtight and at the right pressures.

With no clue where we were going next we repaired next door to Asda's car park whilst we decided. Thanks to our morning's slightly random tour of Elgin in general, and supermarkets in particular, we can report that the fuel shortages reported in the media haven't hit this area. Not a queue or closed pump to be seen.

Nairn was our chosen next stop (Mick recalled visiting in 1978 to see 'Grease', which was being shown in Nairn, but not in Elgin, and we walked past on the coast on the TGO Challenge in 2014, but otherwise we'd not been there).

The car park at the harbour houses ten motorhome parking bays, five of which are practically on the beach, although only daytime parking is permitted. We took one of them and accepted the ticket machine's 'Invitation to Pay' (i.e. it's not a mandatory charge).

Looking towards the harbour entrance in Nairn. Second photo of the same subject, but also showing how close Bertie was to the beach.

Our trip into the town was slightly curtailed by rain, but in any case there was nothing there that was grabbing us. The harbour and beach front was a more pleasing place to be.

We didn't breach the Traffic Regulation Order by spending the night in the car park. Instead we drove about 100m away to a legal spot, where we passed a quiet night.

Tuesday
Once it was legal for Bertie to be in the car park again, we moved him back to one of the beach-front spaces, and headed off along the coast for a run. Initially we took the coast path, but where it runs alongside the golf course, Mick had us stop every time there was a golfer nearby about to take a shot. There were a lot of golfers. So, we took to the beach, where the sand was perfectly firm enough for running.

A fine expanse of beach and lots of people using it.

The rest of the morning was frittered away until at a couple of minutes after the earliest arrival time (1300) we arrived at Culloden Moor Caravan Club Site.

It was a lovely sunny, blowy afternoon, so I wasted no time getting our running gear rinsed through and hung out to dry, then we set about frittering the afternoon away.

For me, that involved a bit of planning. Incredibly, I managed to come away on this trip without any non-electronic hill-bagging resources. Most sorely missed is my Marilyn road atlas (the old 2009 road atlas that I've repurposed and mark up with the location of hills I want to visit), but I'd also failed to bring Corbett and Munro guides, my hill-bagging notebook and the Marilyn lists. Careless!

So, whilst we had unlimited electricity I turned to e-resources and settled on a few hills north of Inverness, in an area we've never toured.

The evening was frittered away watching a film. I really must buy a new remote control for Bertie's TV. We've been managing without, but have now realised that when watching a DVD we have no way to pause or fast forward, meaning if we start a film, we have to finish it in one sitting (something I'm not very good at).

Wednesday
The best weather forecast of the week, and sure enough there was a lot of blue in that sky.

Via a quick grocery stop in Inverness (where there is apparently also no fuel shortage - and it was cheap too; pity we didn't need any) to the Black Isle we came, for a 10.5 mile run/walk taking in the highest point of this not-really-an-island. What an endeavour that was! (for my full report Click Here )

Taking it in turns to look thoroughly impressed with what we were doing.

We should, perhaps, have driven to one of the parking spots we'd passed on our run/walk for the night, for peace and solitude, but we went for the easier option of leaving Bertie where he was. It didn't make for the quietest of nights, with the road noise.

Thursday
A better weather day than forecast, allowing me to fit in three small Marilyn hills with only about ten minutes of light rain between them and far more sunshine than expected (full report Click Here  ). 

We thought we might spend the night in the car park we used for the second hill, which looked an excellent location, until we spotted the informal 'No Overnight Parking' sign (undoubtedly unenforceable, but we decided to abide by the request). It pushed me into getting the third hill done, hoping that we could stay in that car park instead. Alas, no. The same sign was displayed, and far more prominently this time.

Contemplating our options, we decided on returning to the previous night's spot, overlooking Munlochy Bay, as it was only about a 3-mile detour (why not one of the quieter spots on the minor road we'd noted the previous day, given our comments about road noise just that very morning? Purely to save the extra few miles of detour. Once again, it wasn't the best decision.). 

View of Munlochy Bay from the parking spot. Pity the lie of the land caused Bertie to face the road, rather than the view.

On Wednesday we were initially the only van there, but by bedtime there were five. On Thursday we again initially had the place to ourselves, but ended up with three neighbours. Other similar places we'd passed on our way to our hills earlier in the day also had four or fives vans in each. And this is at the very end of September. I hate to think what it would have been like in summer, and also know that just a few short years ago we almost always had our parking spots to ourselves. (Incidentally, though: no sign of any rubbish, litter or toilet waste (not even tissues)). When I get onto Friday's post I will have some more heartening news (as well as a bit of a moan) about facilities for motorhomes being improved in these parts.

Thurs-Sun 24-26 September - Elgin and Lossiemouth

Where was Bertie? Thurs: A pull-in on a minor road south of Forres; Fri: a car park in Elgin (£1); Sat: Riverside Caravan Park,Elgin (£27); Sun: Harbour Car Park, Lossiemouth (£5 donation to the local community council).
Weather: on Friday the weather came good again. Plenty of sunshine and unseasonably warm at 20-22 degrees. Breezy at times, but even the wind was warm.

Loch of Blairs, around which I walked on Friday morning

This weekend was the main event of this trip: the CXX Squadron reunion, with an informal get-together in Elgin's Ex-Servicemen's Club on Friday night and a formal sit-down dinner at the Mansefield on Saturday night.

Interspersed with that there was visiting with friends and Elgin parkrun on Saturday morning, which felt far harder than my pace suggested it should have been - probably as a result of the late night on Friday.

We had originally intended, after Friday night's do, to drive out of Elgin to find somewhere to park. Then, having parked up in a huge and largely empty car park immediately across the road from where we needed to be on Saturday morning, we decided the convenience of being able to just roll out of bed and cross the road  trumped the likelihood of disturbance by boy racers. The car park screamed 'boy racer haunt!' as soon as we drove in, and sure enough by late afternoon there were four in evidence. By the time we returned at around 11pm their numbers had swollen to a dozen or so, yet still we decided to stay. It was far from the worst night we've ever had, but peace didn't reign until 1am. Funnily enough, they were no trouble when they were loitering in the car park; it was only the tooting of horns as a group periodically set out to tear around the town, and the wheel-spinning, revving and over-sized-exhaust noise on the adjacent road that disturbed us.

Unfortunately cut off. It was a long frock and killer shoes (or so my feet felt within five minutes of standing in them)

Even though the boy racers probably followed the exact same template on Saturday night, on reflection we probably should have stayed in town then too (when we were likely out later than they were anyway). Only a few years ago, Riverside Caravan Park was a reasonably priced place. Now it's expensive, and we were absent for much of the 24-hours we paid for, having gone out mid-afternoon and not arriving back until 2am. In the intervening period, as well as making my feet suffer in heeled shoes, enjoying a formal three-course meal, and chatting with lots of people, Mick enjoyed a few glasses of wine. However, he didn't appear too drunk when we got back to the campsite, so when he insisted he was fine to go and plug Bertie back into the mains, I let him get on with it. It was only when he didn't reappear within a reasonable period (i.e. I'd made the bed and there was still no sign of him) that I went out to investigate. It turned out that he may have been a little more sozzled than he appeared and that plugging in a motorhome can be akin to trying to get your Yale key into the front door lock when you can't see straight...

Sunday dawned another clear skied and warm day, but understandably, we slept for the first part of the morning, cramming campsite chores into the remaining time (including a haircut for me; I'd kept it 'long' for Saturday night's do, but was ready for it to return to its usual length by Sunday), finally leaving the campsite four minutes before their departure deadline. To Lossiemouth we came where bar a couple of strolls around (and a disappointment when the chip shop we walked to for lunch was closed) was the extent of our activity.

Lossie East Beach. What you can't see is how windy it was.

It was early to bed for us and whilst Mick was too busy catching up on sleep to notice, I was aware of the forecast rain starting. As I type this on Monday morning, it's fair pattering down and the forecast is telling us that whilst we should see plenty more sunshine this week, we are done with warm weather now. It was lovely whilst it lasted!

Tues-Fri 21-24 September - Scotland

Where was Bertie? He spent Tuesday night in a pull-in alongside a B-road by Leadhills, Wednesday at a pull-in in the vicinity of Dalwhinnie and Thursday at a pull-in alongside a minor road not far from Forres.
Weather: Tuesday - mainly sunny and warm; Wednesday - disappointingly grey and, later in the day, drizzly; Thursday - mixed, breezy and cool but with a fine spell in the middle of the day

Tuesday
Monday's intended departure got delayed. The main culprits: 1) an incident of Bertie being parked next to a tree-chipping machine led to the push I've been needing to finally get up on his roof and give it a good clean; 2) resolution of the black versus white paint situation (a reference back to the footnote in my previous post; it turned out there was more than one rogue tin the shop). Add in a couple of other more minor distractions and suddenly the day had gone.

So, we hit the road on Tuesday morning and had a leisurely drive north, which isn't to say we tootled along abnormally slowly, but that we had quite a few stops (a petrol station that had no diesel; a supermarket; another petrol station that did have diesel; lunch; afternoon tea). It was thus beyond teatime when Bertie settled into a pull-in on a B-road alongside the M74. By the time I'd got half way through cooking tea, the road noise had caused me to decide that we would be moving on. A good call, in hindsight, as whilst we did drive a few miles out of our way, we found a discrete, and much prettier, spot that was quiet too.

All pitches look the same once it's dark out, but in the short while until dusk, we had a good view

After a day of sitting down, I managed to stir myself to take a bit of a stroll just as darkness was falling. My route was short due to the obstacle of a ford on the track I followed, but I repeated it four times, until the level of light told me to go inside and do a bit of crocheting for the rest of the evening.

Wednesday
The map didn't reveal an obvious place for a run in the immediate vicinity of where we were parked, but it occurred to me that Strathclyde Loch is only a couple of minutes away from the motorway, just SE of Glasgow. A prolonged pause was thus had there whilst I worked myself up to going outside (the MetOffice said that it was 9 degrees out; Bertie said it was 14; as soon as I got moving I decided Bertie was right) for a circuit of the loch, which was followed by coffee and a crossword. By then lunchtime was about upon us and had we not had good reason to end the day much further north, we likely would have found ourselves frittering away the day and staying the night. As it was, we made it to Perth before stopping for more fuel* and for lunch.

Strathclyde Loch 

Given the way that Scotland has been overrun with motorhomes over the last year or so, we would have gone from there to a campsite near Newtonmore, except that one of them is closed and the other is only accepting stays of 7 nights or more (apparently due to Covid, but since their toilet block and reception are also closed, I can't see how the length of stay has any bearing). Unless I'm lacking some knowledge, it thus seems to me that there is not a single campsite in the immediate vicinity of the main trunk road running through the Highlands for the entire section between Blair Atholl and Aviemore. So, a layby it was for us after all.

Thursday
All was quiet in our layby until just after 1am, when suddenly Bertie started getting assaulted by a blustery wind. He pitched and rolled making us feel like we were at sea. Then it would die down, only to pick up to another squall within the hour. And so the night went on. It didn't make for the best night of sleep, which is no doubt how we came to silence the alarm at 0730 and not wake up for another hour.

Yikes! We were on a schedule today. By 0832 I had the kettle on the stove and breakfast on the table (breakfast = cold soaked porridge, so preparing it involves opening the fridge door to remove the containers and grabbing two spoons).

Having relocated ourselves to Newtonmore some delaying-tactics-faffing ensued, hoping for the rain to stop and the cloud to clear per the forecast. A short while later we headed out into the rain anyway, and by the time we'd run a 10km route up towards Loch Gynack and back** there were patches of blue sky to be seen.

After an afternoon catching up with Ali and Sue (TGO Challenge Coordinators and owners of Newtonmore Hostel), Bertie's nose was once again pointed northwards, bringing us to this spot, which positions us well for more visiting of friends tomorrow.

(*In case I've not mentioned before, Bertie has developed a problem with his fuel tank, in that it leaks when it's full. Our temporary work around has been not to completely fill the tank. This minimises the smell of diesel (the actual quantity leaking is tiny, but it stinks), but does, of course, reduce his range. He's booked in to a garage in a few weeks time for it to be looked at.
**How quickly fitness is lost! It's hard to believe it was just three months ago that I ran 50km on those trails, only a few seconds per km slower than today's pace. I certainly couldn't have kept it up for another 40km today!)

Friday 17 - Sunday 19 September - Equinox24 at Belvoir Castle

Where was Bertie? He was at the Equinox24 event at Belvoir Castle where it cost a total of £10.60 including (had we chosen to take full advantage) a pitch for three nights, use of portaloos and portashowers, water and waste facilities.  

Weather: Sunny intervals and 21 degrees on Saturday. A bit cooler and cloudier on Sunday, with rain starting just before 11am.

Background

After the Lakeland 50 I felt that the fitness I'd gained through five months of training hadn't been tested, and thus I put some thought into what I could do to take advantage of the hard work I'd put in. The plan I came up with was the Pennine Way in 7 days at the beginning of August then, if my body recovered in time, Equinox24 six weeks later. 

As described in my last-but-one post, the Pennine Way ended prematurely, and it didn't take me long to conclude that it was highly unlikely that the something-behind-my-knee would be recovered in time for Equinox24.

A bit of a description of Equinox24: it's a 24-hour race that takes place at Belvoir Castle in Leicestershire on the weekend nearest to the autumn equinox. The course is an undulating 10km multi-terrain circuit that competitors repeat as many times as they are able, or feel inclined to, between noon on the Saturday and noon on the Sunday. Theoretically a 24-hour race, but the rules work on a 'I've started so I'll finish' basis, such that any lap started before the 24-hour clock hits zero can be completed and will count towards the total tally. 

Entries closed at the end of August, and I dithered almost until the last minute over whether to enter. Eventually I concluded that the risk of the something-behind-my-knee curtailing my efforts was too great relative to the entry fee, and also had to concede that the amount of fitness I'd lost since the end of July was such that, along with my Pennine Way intentions, my 24-hour race aspirations will have to wait until next year. 

So, what were we doing there? Well, having never been to a 24-hour race, I thought it would be good to go along to experience the weekend, so I signed us up to volunteer on the registration desk on Friday afternoon/evening, and also bought us camping passes so that we could stay the whole weekend.

Friday

The entrance to the event field opens at noon on Friday and we arrived at about quarter past, giving us plenty of time for lunch and to work out what was where before we needed to report to Race HQ for our stint on the registration desk. The four hours giving out race packs sped by. My two best memories of that afternoon: 

1) When 'Are we Human?' by the Killers was played over the sound system, when it got to the line "And I'm on my knees, looking for the answers" two passing women got down onto their knees, mimed holding magnifying glasses and started searching through the grass. Then they got up and nonchalantly walked on. Perhaps you had to be there to witness it, but in the context of everyone else queuing or generally milling around, it amused me.

2) Of all the teams (I was dealing with Pairs and Small Teams; Mick was on Solos, another chap was on Large Teams*; we all dealt with 10k-ers), the one that got my 'best team name' vote was 'Divas with Belvoirs'. (You have to know how Belvoir is pronounced for this one to work).

Our reward for the volunteering stint was a meal voucher for one of the on-site vendors, so we made our way back to Bertie in the pitch dark clutching a tray of stir-fry noodles each. 

We also got a t-shirt for our trouble, but unfortunately in my least favourite t-shirt colour. 

(Incidentally, we discovered during our stint at Registration that even though entries had closed at the end of August, it would have been possible to enter on the day**. It took a lot of restraint to resist. If I'd had more than one set of running clothes and shoes with me, it would quite probably have tipped the balance over to an impulsive last-minute entry.) 

Saturday

Mick's day didn't start well, with a bad case of the runs (which, funnily enough, was exactly the name of one of the teams). That ruined his intention to join me for an early morning run around the course, to see what it was like. I went anyway, and it was lovely - as was the weather, albeit the misty start meant that none of the snaps I took came out well. 

As I failed to take a decent snap, here's a drone shot stolen from the Facebook page. 

Same photo but annotated with an arrow pointing at Bertie and orange dashes showing the 1km section of the route that goes through the camping field. 

The rest of our day was spent loitering around the site, watching first the conclusion of the Kids' 1km Fun Run, then hanging around to see the main race plus the daytime 10k set out an hour later. We were still loitering around start/finish when the first 10k runner crossed the line 37 minutes later. A pretty keen time on that course, but moreso as Adam was also entered as a Solo in the 24-hour race and ended up coming third, having managed 18 laps (just to say that again in slightly different words: he ran his first lap in 37 minutes, then went on to run a total of 180km). 

And they're off. Including Mr Blobby, albeit only for one lap as far as I know. 

This chap does, however, run every lap every year in a morph suit (and yep, it does cover his eyes, nose and mouth). 

After a couple of stints of spectating/encouraging further out on the course, one in the afternoon, one in the pitch dark whilst the night 10k race was going on, we called it a day.

Not much, bar torch light, to be seen at night. 

Sunday

We'd gone along to this event with the full expectation of not getting any sleep on Saturday night. There was, after all, a 24-hour race going on around us, with team members coming and going on a relay basis and with plenty of spectators to offer encouragement during the night. It turned out, however, that in our efforts to put Bertie in a position such that if it rained he wouldn't be far from a hard-surfaced track, we also managed to position him in the quietest corner of the field. We went to bed not long after 10pm and had a completely undisturbed night, not stirring until just before 7am. 

As I couldn't, in all reasonableness, go out on the course whilst the race was in progress, I opted to leave the running event to go for a run. Through Woolsthrope on Belvoir, out to a canal, along a disused railway, along some field tracks and back to the castle. Not as pleasing a 10km as the Equinox course, but it did the job. 

On reflection, it would have been more interesting to run along the tow path, rather than the adjacent disused railway. 

Another stint of spectating by the crossroads on the course (a location that has the advantage of having runners go past in four directions, so you get to see everyone in a short space of time) caused us some (sick and twisted) amusement by the state of some of the runners (in our defence, we were only amused by those who seemed just stiff or tired, not those who looked plain injured). The biggest giggle was the chap who got to the crossroads relieved that his jumper, that he'd decided he didn't need anymore, was still where he had left it, only then to find that he was unable to bend down to pick it back up. Other runners (including some Solos) were still moving incredibly well, including those that we recognised as the race leaders. Due to the nature of the event, for those we didn't recognise, we had no idea whether they looked fresh because they only wanted to do a few laps and had thus only just gone back out on the course after a few hours sleep. 

Another of Sid's morph suits.

Alas, the forecast rain came in about an hour earlier than anyone wanted, and whilst those on the course had to resign themselves to getting wet, we stood under a tree for a while, then scurried back to Bertie. Half an hour later we were heading home, foregoing the third night that our camping pass would have allowed us to stay***.

I'm pleased to say that the weekend hasn't put me off the notion of a 24-hour race, but, as much as I'd like to do Equinox24, it's unlikely it will be this one as I very much hope not to be in the UK in September next year.  

 

(*for Pairs and Teams (small and large) the event is run as a relay, such that only one member of the team is allowed to be on the course at any one time. 

**It's a funny thing, to my mind, that last year so many people were desperate for races to return, yet this year places are going unfilled. Equinox only had 1800 entrants this year across all of the adult races and categories - which was 1000 down on the last event, in 2019.

***The weather warning for flooding would almost certainly have caused us to leave anyway as we wouldn't have wanted to risk Bertie getting bogged down, but the actual reason we came home today was because I needed to get the door we made, primed and undercoated last week glossed before we go on our next trip. So, we came home, I rubbed down the primer/undercoat layers on the door and opened the brand new tin of Pure Brilliant White, only to find it full of black paint.)