Goatfell

Thurs 30th April

I woke to a beautiful sunrise over the Firth of Clyde this morning, in my park up on the sea front. I had wanted to be up and driving to the car park up the road by 7.45am, but I think I was slightly behind, as usual. A bright pink ‘The Decaffeinated Pig’ truck had appeared behind me, and the owner was measuring up the parking space to offload the vehicle from the pickup he’d brought it on. At one point I rushed out because he had offloaded it right up to the back of my van, and I needed to get in the boot. He explained he had tight restrictions where he could park as he’d had complaints from the local coffee shop and would need to move further into my space once I was gone. I realised I could get into my boot once at my new parking spot so reassured him I would be off soon and he could take my space. Of course, ‘soon’ is never ‘soon’ in a van. I had my breakfast then had a wash, which all takes time, especially when you’re clock watching. Eventually I was done. I’d asked the chap to see me back as I was blocked between him and the car in front, which he obliged with, and I was off.

I was parked over night in Brodick and I was planning to climb Goatfell, the highest mountain on the island, at 874 m. It isn’t far from Brodick and I could have started the walk from there, but it was already a long route, so decided to park at the car park situated at the bottom of the route. Once there I sorted all my kit and did a last minute wee in the bushes. The route starts off by a garden centre and Wineport restaurant. The Goatfell route is very well signposted, obviously being one of the most popular trails on the island, and starts along a dirt track leading through the woods. It eventually opens out into more mountainous terrain, with young trees, but more gorse bush. The track is still straight forward, but becomes more uneven, with boulders and rock steps. I passed a group of 3 women who were stripping off. It was predicted to be a very sunny day, which is one of the reasons I chose today to do the walk, and the women had started off with jumpers, so understandably had worked up a sweat. As the terrain opened out, I turned to see the view, and you could start to see Brodick bay below, the water glistening in the sun, great views, but I knew with today’s guaranteed weather they were only going to get better as I got higher. I needed another wee at this point, looked behind me and couldn’t see or hear the women, looked ahead of me and couldn’t see anyone. These paths were quite well structured that you could prob see someone coming from a distance, but there was a enough gorse and rocks to be focusing on navigating, and to obstruct from seeing detail up ahead! So, I quickly did a wee, raising my knickers just as I could see two men approaching in the near distance, they must have overtaken the women! Within a few minutes they had almost caught me up and I allowed them to overtake me as we got to a gate.

At this point you could clearly see the destination, the summit of Goatfell, and the comparison of the starting point, Brodick, which would be the case the rest of the way. The path was now turning very rocky, with some parts dominated by heavy slabs of rock from the natural landscape, which the route had been incorporated into. I could see the two men from earlier sat on a big rock further on from me, having a rest and a drink and snack I would suspect. As I passed them, I thought it a bit presumptuous to ask to join them. We had exchanged niceties, but it didn’t feel like an exchange that was enthused with social interaction, so I passed by and found a large rock further up the path to have a rest myself. I got out the flask, poured myself a tea and peeled my banana. At this point you could not only see Brodick Bay, but as you looked to the opposite side of the island you could actually see the sea that side too. As I sat for a while I started to get chilly from my cooling down sweat, so started to pack away, which was a similar time the two men had decided to progress on their way. I lingered a little and let them pass.

I had them as a guide in front of me, which I quite liked, a quiet reassurance, even with the perfect visibility, that I was on the right track. The path eventually reached the ridge of Goatfell, where our path took a sharp turn to the left and followed the ridge to the summit. I say ridge, but it was nothing like Crib Goch, it was a chunkier ridge, with a suitable path to walk. Although now the path was getting more inconsistent in its approach underfoot. Lots of rocks, big ones, small ones, steep steps, short steps. I could feel myself starting to get fatigued. I had lost sight slightly of the two men in front and started following what I thought was the track. It’s at ridges like this I have found on previous walks that the path starts to become less defined, and sometimes splits into multiple paths where others have decided they’d prefer to tread. The reason it gets confusing is due to the larger rocks being used as the path, there is no way to see if this is a well-trodden path or not, not like a gravel path or a grass path where feet have marked the way. And these rocks form many natural steps, rather than man made ones that also help give away the route. There was a man fast approaching from behind, I saw him and could see he had two sticks, meant business, and was almost a power hill walker (is there such a thing), not quite a fell runner. He approached from the far right parallel to me and I looked to him and commented ‘I’m not sure there’s any definite path anymore’, to which he replied, ‘There is, it’s over here’. Haha! So, I sidled over to his path. He mentioned that he’d done it before and remembered that the path is pretty obvious most of the way, so I continued to follow him, as he strode off ahead. I passed another chap who was having a rest, and as I continued and paused intermittently, I could see he was struggling slightly, pausing more frequently and for longer, although his spaniel was eager to get going! It was getting quite tiring now, heat of the day, lots of climbing, big steps to navigate, but plough on we must, steady but surely. I had thoughts in my head about kids (or adults come to think of it) who might complain if you brought them onto the hill. ‘I’m tired’, ‘I can’t go on’, ‘this isn’t fun’. And I tried to think of responses; ‘You’re nearly there, in 10 minutes you won’t be complaining, you’ll be at the top enjoying your lunch, so don’t focus on the pain because it will be gone soon’. Not that I wanted to wish my life away ‘it’ll be over soon’. I thought about applying this to other situations where you don’t like what’s happening. Just remember everything comes to an end, it can’t possibly go on forever, so don’t worry too much about it.

Made it! As expected, it was very blowy at the top, and I was greeted by the power walker to say congrats on making it. I paused by the trig point to put on my jumper, then took a minute to look around the panoramic view. It was spectacular, I couldn’t have asked for a better day to be up there. It reminded me of my walk up Snowdon, when we had done the route across Crib Goch. We had a bright sunny day, a little too hot to be honest, as I found I had sunburnt legs the next day. It had made the walking so much easier to see where you were going, which with Crib Goch was important, but also so much more enjoyable to see the views and the vastness of the landscape. As with the view from Goatfell, you feel so unimportant and insignificant amongst the giant mountains. The height is almost hard to comprehend, and sometimes when I look at the bottom of a mountain to gain perspective it seems like my eyes can’t process it properly. These huge lumps of rock carved by nature, always here, always present in this place. I saw the two men from earlier had bagged a spot behind a rock not far from the trig point. The power walker was behind another rock further down, although he seemed to be almost facing into the wind, his hat and glasses had blown free, and I retrieved them for him as he had not noticed. I thought I’d spend a bit of time checking for a reasonable spot, I didn’t want to be uncomfortable rushing my lunch. Going by the direction of the wind gusts I determined which side of a rock I needed to sit and went about my search. I approached the side of the summit which should have been in shelter and perused the assembly of rocks, looking down over an outcrop I could see a small, flat, grassy plateau which the sun was illuminating. I hopped down to determine if indeed it was sheltered and I was in luck. It was perfect, and nothing in front of me to hide the magnificent view. I had my lunch and then rested in the warmth of the sun for a little while until I really thought I ought to make a move back down.

The two men and the power walker were gone, but as I left the summit to take the same route back down I saw the man who had been struggling. He was layered up in his puffa jacket and I made a comment similar to, ‘you have to find somewhere to shelter for lunch don’t you’, which he replied he was really cold. He obviously took his first find for a lunch spot and suffered for it. I always find the downhill walking not too much of a problem, I think I have pretty good knees, although the right one has given a bit of jip since I did my LEJOG walk 20 years ago, but it’s only the odd niggle. But I find I can hop among the rocks as I make my way downhill. I passed a lady who was taking her time, probably not too much older than me, but she commented on not having great knees as I overtook. It made me wonder about looking after our bodies, and why we aren’t more concerned by it. Obviously, there are people who are super aware of their health and fitness but looking at the population I think I’m safe in saying a good proportion of us do not take it seriously enough and it is generally an afterthought. I was wondering why this is and I came up with the theory that most things in life are replaceable, which helps feed the consumer society. We don’t worry too much about things breaking or waring out, because we buy a new one or get it fixed. What if we were told we could only ever have one of something and once it had worn, broken, been lost, we were not allowed another? How much more care would we take over those things? But it’s like that with our bodies. Yes, I know we have drs and ways of fixing ailments, but essentially, we only have one body, what we do to it affects it for the rest of our lives, even if you fix parts of it, it will never be its best. Unfortunately, I think it would take a lot of education and rewiring of thinking and habits to change this. I could say yes, I’ll be more healthy tomorrow to ensure my body has the best nutrients to work at its best, but I know I would struggle with that. Starting the education and habits from an early age is so important.

After my descent of the ridge, which was fairly steep, I had an easy amble along the top of the next hill. I looked on the map and could see I would be joining another path that followed the river. I looked at the river below. It was a long way down, but not far as the crow flies and I could see where I would join, and I was almost in line with it, so knew my descent would be pretty rapid. It was another rock hopping stint. It didn’t seem like many people were taking this route, in fact no-one was, so I took this opportunity to have another loo stop. I have been very lucky on this walk to have the remoteness to have these stops. As I reached the bottom, I had to cross a stream that was trickling happily down the hillside. There was a small pool where I was passing over and some large rocks, so I decided to take the time to soak my feet. It was so beautiful hearing the water trickling, and nothing else, with the sun shining. These moments you have to remind yourself to take in, not rush by, appreciate them. This is why I was trying not to storm the route, I wasn’t here to make record timing, I was here to experience the place and all it had to offer, so should take these opportunities to indulge myself in the stops.

After putting my boots back on I continued along the track that followed the river down at an easy descent. I looked across at the river at one point and the water was streaming down some flat slabs, like a large garden water feature. I went off track to have a closer look and found it pooled at the bottom, before continuing its journey down. I ummed and ahhed about taking a dip, but I had brought my swimwear, so why wouldn’t I. I think it’s the part of me that worries about people seeing and judging that makes me hesitate, so I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and went with the thought ‘why not?!’ it’s here for me to enjoy, take the time on this beautiful day and do it. So I did, and it made it into one of the best days I’ve had on this trip so far. The mixture of a long exhausting walk, with the glorious weather and an unexpected dip made it a day to remember. The pool was very cold, and slippery underfoot, but it made it all part of the experience. I dunked all the way in, and it was refreshing. The pool made a mini infinity pool and I could look out over the edge and just see vast sea in front of me.

I thought I had better get a move on at this point, as looking at the map, although I’d reached the summit, it had not been the halfway point and I still had a good chunk of walk to go through forestry tracks to reach the van. The rest of the route was quiet, didn’t see anyone until the last mile. The forestry tracks were sometimes in the shade, which made for some light relief, but sometimes they were in the glaring sun. It was still and quiet, and I tried to keep my eyes peeled for red squirrels and birds of prey, but no luck. The quietness did allow for another loo stop. I apologise for these updates, but I think it’s important to be real and highlight the issues that come with travelling/walking. As I rejoined the original route I had started on for the last half mile, I came out to where the garden centre was, and a little shop/café, and bought myself an ice cream as a reward, sat in the sun and took my time enjoying its sweet relief.

On coming back to the van, I wondered what to do for dinner. It was a nice evening, and I could see the car park backed onto a beach. I went to explore to find out more. It indeed opened onto the long stretch of beach I had parked at the other end of last night. As I had food to use up in the van I thought I would take a picnic and have it on the beach, but not before I took a quick trip to the co-op for milk. While there I bought a sprite (there was no lemonade, as I wasn’t going to buy a large tonic water to carry in the van), with the intention of enjoying one of my gin miniatures. I made it onto the beach with my picnic and chair and enjoyed soaking up the last of the rays. I have to admit I had to put on my puffa, as the chill soon came as the sun lowered, but it was nice to be on a beach. A man came with his two dogs, jumping into the waves to retrieve the ball he’s thrown. And a man, his wife and daughter came for a quick dip in their wetsuits. I read my book as I watched the goings on, on the beach.