I took a slow start out of Crianlarich, partly because I'd left my fancy socks somewhere and couldn't find them! I only reached Charlie and Katya's campsite by 10 so naturally they were long gone.
The trail from here is generally well formed gravel track, often wide enough for vehicles, and wound through spruce and pine forest aand farmland. I reached Tyndrum around midday, thinking I would stop here for lunch as it is well known as a WHW pitstop. Unfortunately as it was Sunday the small town was full of tourists and day walkers. The little cafe was packed and the parking lot of The Green Welly Stop was bustling. I'll admit the though of so many people made me cringe - I don't really like crowds at the best of times, and after the comfortable isolation of the trail it was even more unappealing. Instead I popped into the mini-mart and sat in a covered alcove outside the store as rain began to mist down. En route to Bridge of Orchy I met up with Katya and we walked together for a while, alongside the river, with the Highlands growing ever more impressive on our right. I remember looking up a valley and thinking it would be nice just to head off trail into the mountains and set up a secret camp away from all the roads and tracks and pylons. I was wearing socks and sandals to give my feet a rest, and though it wasn't raining heavily the track was increasingly interspersed with puddles, and eventually I gave up keeping my feet dry and just squelched straight through the muddy water. I left Katya taking a break and headed on at pace to Bridge of Orchy, arriving just in time to catch up to Charlie leaving the pub! He had left very early that morning, breaking camp quickly without having breakfast, as the midges were lying in wait as soon as he opened his tent. We arranged to meet up again at Inveroran and split again, so that I could take a turn resting in the pub. In the bathroom I peeled my soaking socks off my feet, along with the various dressings that I apply each morning. Checking I was unobserved I then quickly rinsed off the worst of the mud in the hotel's pristine white hand basin, feeling uncouth as I did so.
Katya caught up with me as I rested, and we both headed out together, me now braving my shoes again, and Katya wearing a thin pair of sandals as her boots are hurting her achilles (it's not just me that has this problem!) Coming over the hill to Inveroran we took the extra 10 metres to climb to the Cairns and suddenly the valley opened up below us. Loch Tulla was flat calm, reflecting the hills and trees that lined its shores, and behind us the mountains that had flanked our journey rose into the clouds. In the distance the forest exhaled its rising plumes of misty breath. It was truly spectacular.
Making our way down the hill we stopped in at the Inveroran Hotel long enough to charge my phone and enjoy a whiskey, and decided as a group to get a few more kilometres under foot before setting up camp. We found a spot complete with charred logs indicating previous use as a campsite, and as we set up our tents the midges descended. This was my first proper midge-y experience, as I had only encountered a few so far. Now they landed on my bare legs in a black layer and clustered unpleasantly around my face. I escaped into my tent as quickly as possible - changing into trousers and wrapping my sarong around my face before venturing out long enough to boil water for dinner. Katya and Charlie were similarly acccessorised, with their multi-use head scarves pulled up over their faces and hats pulled down low. They had got a small smoky fire burning while I changed, which helped keep the midges away, but it proved difficult to keep going and I simply retreated back into my tent with my food, like the coward I am.
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