Distance: 17.8 miles (424.7 total)
Time: 8 hrs and 2 mins
Tomorrow: Loch Awe to Taynuilt (est 13.3 miles)
Let's begin with a big thank you to all those people who have sent so many messages of support and encouragement over the past few days. I've truly been overwhelmed by the number of positive messages I've been receiving. Yep, Barnaby taking over the Pilgrim's Cairn certainly appears to have been hugely popular with most of you.
And rightly so. The pattern over the past couple of nights has been for me to get sent away for a shower, shortly after we've eaten supper. While I've been abluting, Barnaby has been dictating his post to Neil. On my return I get to read the blog, and both times I've been so impressed. Barnaby's descriptions of the journey have been vivid and true. I feel like I write in a kind of monochrome: either I need to share that something hurts, or that some bit of the landscape was 'lovely'. Barnaby writes in colour!
Having Neil and Barnaby here for the past couple of days has been, well, lovely. Just not eating every meal on my own has been a most welcome transformation! Barnaby has been a fantastic companion as we walk, and he's really maturing as a walker. Terrains which in the past would have daunted him and led him to complain about a sore tummy/leg/head/foot, he has entirely taken in his stride. Indeed, he's been keeping me going at times when I've been flagging! It's been great too that we've been together with Neil at the beginning and end of each leg. Having someone there at 'the end of the day' makes such a difference. I am so incredibly lucky in my friends. There has been a lot of laughter.
It was beginning to rain quite hard when the three of us left The Drover's last night and scuttled to our rooms. It rained and didn't stop overnight. It rained and didn't stop until mid-afternoon today. Of course, the rain had to turn up on the day when I had some of the most exposed walking across some of the boggiest terrain. Now and then my boys like to play again of 'would you rather'. The conundrum is posed, 'Would you rather be chased by a herd of marauding elephants or a swarm of angry bees?'. The variations on this theme can sometimes seem endless, regrettably. Today I found myself asking, 'Would I rather have a bit of rain every day over the course of a four week pilgrimage, or four weeks' rain in one day on a four week pilgrimage?'
After about a mile from The Drover's I left the road and followed track up into the hills. It rained heavily. About seven miles in the track rather dissolved into boggy, stumbling, puddled hillside. Here and there, there were indications that someone might have driven a Land Rover through, and for a while I'd try to follow those tracks, but repeatedly those traces would disappear and I'd find myself splurging and stuttering forwards. Thankfully, all I had to do was to stick between two hills and find my way down to a forest below. Visibility stayed good, so that wasn't really a problem, and in some miracle of providence it was either pouring down or blowing a gale, but rarely both at the same time. Once I'd reached the trees it was just another couple of miles before I hit forestry roads and then it was various kinds of paved surface all the way to Lochawe. and the rather marvellous Ben Cruachan Inn.
On Monday, walking the West Highland Way from Milngavie to Drymen, I met a guy who was walking the whole route. I asked where he was staying that night and he said that he wasn't sure. I was in awe. I couldn't imagine setting out on that sort of hike at this time of year and not knowing where I'd be laying my head down at day's end. On Tuesday, walking with Barnaby, I saw a young couple walk past us clearly all set up to be camping along the route. I began to feel like a bit of a lightweight. Why couldn't I do the sort of really tough travelling that they were doing?
But we all have our own journeys to make and our own challenges to overcome. I know that there will be people suffering from appalling depression, who overcame far more of a challenge than I did today, just to get themselves out of bed and dressed. There will be people struggling with chronic pain, who achieved far more than I did, just by putting the kettle on and making themselves a cup of tea. We all have our own pilgrimages to make, our own hills to climb and heavy weather to endure.
The good pilgrim doesn't compare their journey to anyone else's. The good pilgrim knows that in the love of God we're all just making the one journey. The good pilgrim simply tries to do what they can to help others make their way along the road that they have to travel. Just like Barnaby and Neil have done for me over the past few days.
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Thanksgiving: For all the Good Pilgrims who have genuine hearts.
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All Together Now: when I made my pilgrimage in 2010 I invited readers of 'A Pilgrim's Cairn' to join in the pilgrimage by making a walk of their own and sharing on the blog how it had gone (A Pilgrim's Cairn: How Was Your Walk?). I'd like to try the same again this time around. Next weekend I've got another of my non-walking ferry days. I'd love it if you'd join me on this journey by making a walk of your own that weekend. It doesn't matter if it's one mile or forty, just walk. If you'd then write in using the comments section at the bottom of each post, just saying something about where you walked, why you chose that walk and any reflections you have on it, I'd be SO grateful.
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