Day 55 - Burning up the tarmac

 

Despite the caravan public of Evanton declining the massaging opportunity I was willing to present them with last night, I was delighted to wake up sciatica free. I am not sure if it was the double dose of ibuprofen or some fairly half-hearted yoga poses but I was like a new man this morning. 

I also knew it was going to be a day that would ask a few different questions of my joints and feet, with 90% being on roads, the rest on firm forest tracks. In order to reach the coast north of Dornoch Firth, you need to walk across the Easter Ross plain and there are no footpaths that provide a direct enough route, whereas the back roads do and also lead to the bridge over the firth, which was a pretty crucial piece of the jigsaw. Also considering the forecast for a warm and dry day, I opted for my running shoes for the 26 mile journey.

A wise decision it turned out to be, as well - I was eating up the ground. At one point I looked behind me and I swear I had left a trail of smoke. Leaving the van at 8.00am, I'd covered the 4 miles to Allness in an hour and by the time I lunched at 12:00 in a convenient forest picnic area, I was nearly halfway through. It was, to be honest, a pretty boring journey. The whole morning was spent heading for Tain and following National Cycleway route one. It was fairly free of cars but there were only a few cyclists and absolutely no walkers in either direction. There were some lovely houses, though; a mixture of new and old and the new ones blended in well. They all had big gardens, regardless of the size of the house. I guess the availability of land just isn't an issue round here.

The majority of gardens also featured a statue of an animal - usually a dog, sometimes a cat and, bizarrely, three households went for bears. I presumed the dogs and cats may well have been modelled on now deceased pets. One live dog was sniffing his concrete predecessor as I passed and I was willing him to cock his leg on the old guy - a defiant show of "I'm his favourite now, I sit on the couch whilst you're out here." It wasn't to be... However, it does appear the stonemasons of Ross have found a thriving niche market, although the bear idea seems a bit off the wall.

I had a quick coffee in Tain, the home of the Glenmorangie whisky distillery, and headed for Dornoch Bridge. Unfortunately, they seem to have omitted a fairly key pedestrian feature for a large part of the bridge - a footpath. As every car and lorry passed at 60mph, I shuffled along, a few loose stones on one side separating me from the road and on the other, a knee-height crash barrier, behind which was, well, the sea. Perhaps it was good nerve practice for the upper sections of the John o' Groats Trail.

Anyway, I survived and was in Dornoch for 4:45pm. I'd been stopped for nearly two hours, as well, according to my GPS - I've rarely moved more quickly. Dornoch looks a lovely place, right by the coast, plenty going on in the town and, crucially, the sun is shining. You really notice the longer daylight hours round here: by June, three hours longer than in London.

We've been joined at the site tonight by Keith and Gill Robins, Keith being my walking buddy for these closing stages. In fact, they are in the van next to us and I am sure I can hear a can being pulled with my name on it...

These last few days are on the coast and we have a relatively straightforward 20 mile walk to Brora tomorrow before the challenges grow a little stiffer.