We commence our stroll at around 17:20 after witnessing a famous ICT victory against Clyde. The weather during the match was excellent, however, as the match drew to a close the skies blackened and the heavens opened. Our little walk was getting off to a wet start. We assembled at the front of the stadium for a photo’ shoot and were the centre of attention for around ten minutes or so. The team bus was awaiting its journey north and we were given a few bottles of Miller to help us on our way.
As an Englander, I am not much used to wearing the traditional highland dress of a kilt and this inexperience was to be my downfall shortly into walk. Having worn the kilt ‘commando style’ for much of the day I didn’t realise that, as the thighs rub together, they do get a little shore and chaffed, Ouch!, it was blooming sore alright. Only an hour into the walk we decided that, due to the weather, it would be a good idea to tog up accordingly and called upon the support bus sooner than expected. I took this opportunity to apply the Savalon cream to the nether regions.
Ah, that’s a bit better, comfort personified. We pass Croy station and head along the tarmac of the B802 into Kilsyth where a supply of a fish supper was ordered by our support vehicle driver, Colin. As we were running a little behind schedule we had to try to eat our supper whilst climbing some 1000ft out of Kilsyth along the Tak-Ma Doon Road and over the Kilsyth Hills. Not an easy task especially whilst using a trekking pole and gasping for breath. Supper was not a pleasure.
The chaffed thighs were starting to smart again and were made worse by a combination of sweat and dampness from the weather which had, sort of, washed away to recently applied cream. A bit more had to be slapped on. The steep climb took its toll on Mrs Gringo who had no choice but to hitch a lift of support bus as far as Corran Bridge.
Corran Bridge was like an oasis with its little pub at the cross roads of the B818 road. Tempting as it was to nip for a pint, it was resisted due to us being a lot behind schedule. The day light hours were nearing an end and the route we were taking was not lit. The beer had to wait. We did top up the water bottles though.
The drizzly rain and mist continued to dampen the spirits as we passed Loch Coulter Reservoir along this never ending road before, eventually, the orange glow from the lights of Stirling could be seen in the distance. We’d reached the street lit area’s just in time for the daylight to cease.
The Willy Wallace Hostel was reached at 10:15 p.m. and relaxation could commence. By the time we’d showered etc it wasn’t worth nipping out for a beer so cans have to suffice. The Hostel itself was my first ever experience of such an establishment and I wasn’t over impressed with it and wondered what I’d let myself in for. The climb up to, what seemed like, the fourth floor of the hostel, after trudging 16 miles was not particularly funny. The shower room was a bit naff too but at least the place was warm and dry. Canary did state that this place would probably be the worst of the trip.
The evenings entertainment was taken by up by Jnr and Canary ogling the Saturday night talent that was boisterously passing by in the street below. I’m sure those girls didn’t realise that it was Jnr’s dripping saliva that was hitting them rather than the rain.
Ped' Reading was 13.71 miles and 26845 steps.