Cape Wrath Trail

Cape Wrath Trail
Carrying 25 kg and feeling good

Monday 18 April 2011

15 April - Ullapool (Day of rest)


I planned one day off in my trip and this is it, in the pretty, lively town of Ullapool.
It has a bustling harbour and ferry terminal, about 8 pubs, several cafes and restaurants, a Tescos, and several other useful shops. Ullapool is just the right size to spend a day in and even has a museum to explore on a rainy day.
However even in such a hub of civilisation, getting internet access wasn't easy.
I went to the library, where I had 30 minutes free access, and wrote an account for my blog in a bookshop, where it cost £1 for 15 minutes’ internet access.
I couldn't download photos from my camera so just wrote some text. Most of the photos have been added since I get home.

I had a nice evening in Ullapool last night. I got here early, checked out the town, and had a well-deserved pint. Then I rested up at the B & B, had a shower and got rid of my smoky smell from the bothy (smoke really lingers!!), and went out on the town. There was a local group of celtic folk musicians in one of the pubs, so I went there for a while. It turned out they were originally from Newbury/Basingstoke way of course...


I must say that I haven't actually met anyone doing the Cape Wrath Trail yet. There are a few around - you see their names in the bothy logbooks- but so far I haven't seen one. So I have had a lot of time and space to ponder being on my own and what that means to me. After my slightly awesome (not awful) experience at Knockdamph Bothy, I came up with this poem. I will refine it later; this is the raw version.


The paradox

I am a paradox
To seek out this remote wilderness
To plan an adventure with meticulous detail
To search for the quietest, emptiest place I could reach
To find complete solitude at Knockdamph Bothy
And then...
To be childishly disappointed when no-one else turned up
To feel so alone, crushed by the emptiness stretching for miles in all directions
To have complete freedom and absolutely no choice.
That is the paradox.


(I wrote this after a night at Knockdamph Bothy)

Freedom does not always come with choices.
I think it often comes down to basic survival when you do an adventure like this, and the choice gets taken away. For example, when I got so lost and went off-track at Conival, I did theoretically have a choice; I could have carried on towards Oykel Bridge and ignored Inchnadamph completely. But that would have meant another night camping with a tent (and sleeping bag) that was already wet. I was pretty exhausted and my knee was hurting. The other choice was to just give up but I couldn't just stop in the middle of the bog. So it came down to the lower levels of Maslow's triangle - warmth, shelter, food. There was no choice; I had to go to Inchnadamph and ultimately I had to get help (i.e. hitch-hike to a place where I could dry my kit) in order to survive.

Later on today I found out there was a ‘Mountain Marathon’ starting from Ullapool tomorrow, and lots of people were registering in the village hall. The mountain marathon consisted of 2 days orienteering between checkpoints in the mountains, and over-nighting at a site where a Ceili was going to be held. I was extremely impressed with this plan, and have resolved to look out for this event next year as it combines my 2 favourite activities and that is saying something. If only Ullapool wasn’t so far away form Salisbury!
There was a sale of outdoor equipment in the village hall, which gave me the opportunity to buy a Haglofs T-shirt (reduced from £38 to £30 but still expensive) to replace my blue mountain equipment T-shirt which had gone all frayed and pobbly.

I had an early night and was, as usual, extremely disappointed and even bored by everything available to watch on the television in my room.



2 comments:

Margaret said...

Hi Rachel
Good to check and find you are doing well - never mind about being lost - you're found again! Thinking of you as the temperature keeps changing down here -- must be near freezing up there

Margaret

Anonymous said...

I enjoyed your poem and completely understand the paradox. Each time I am close to arriving at a bothy I pray that there is no one there and I will be alone. However, this feeling does not last forever and it is much more pleasant to share the experience of solitude with someone else...