Suffice to say we were all up and dressed again at an unearthly hour, packed and ready for the ride down the road on the bus. The café were tipped off (I believe) the night before and were ready to feed the advancing HM army. Full greasy breakfasts all round with toast and tea - absolutely delicious and all for about three and a half quid – fantastic. The scoffing troops were distracted for a wee while when the real Dr Who walked in (filming for Monarch of the Glen of course) and, perhaps more noticeably, the whimper from Cadet ITN Jnr exclaiming he’d left his ‘phone behind somewhere…a case of deja vous for the HM’ers. Jnr was despatched back up the road to the hostel to retrieve said item.
En route to the drop off point for today’s walk we paused briefly at Ruthven Barracks, as it has become a ‘tradition’ to take these and raise the HM Standard. The sheep guarding the entrance were easily dealt with and the barracks were taken with ease. Well, almost with ease. Most of us went through the gate but Fro’ decided to go over the top, literally, by scaling the wall and raising his sword with a victory salute. Ruddy nutter.
Fun time over, its back to the bus and the short trip to Tromie Bridge for the start of the fifth day on the road. With the flag fluttering in the breeze, a busload of schoolchildren passed by and gave a friendly wave.
Now, for some reason or other, my legs just didn’t want to get going this morning as my body seemed to be a mile ahead them – I was struggling. Maybe it was the scenic overdose of yesterday or the big breakfast of today, I really don’t know but, with only a few miles done, I was knackered and looking forward to finishing the day. The B970 road (cycle route 7) doesn’t help matters either as the hard tarmac begins to rattle every bone in my body.
Although the scenery wasn’t as good as yesterday the views across Strathspey were excellent and eased my pain just a little. As I got further and further behind my mind started to wonder and I don’t really recall much about this first session of the day except, that is, from the noise of ambushes ahead of me in the Feshiebridge area. This never-ending drag through the tree lined road of the Moor of Feshie I reached sanctuary at the bus on the edge of Inverdruie.
A much-needed intake of water and Irn Bru, plus a banana and a rest, had the effect of kick starting my legs. It was also here that Fro’ was seen to be attempted to mount a horse for a bareback ride across the fields. He failed. Maybe all that was needed for me was this good laugh, but, whatever it was, I was ready for the next stage which was the short walk into Aviemore and the pre-planned ‘All Team’ attack on the wee town. We were also hoping to meet the train in from Inverness here as Cadet Western was expecting to arrive, but news was received of her travel problems and was now coming down on the bus a little later.
Before entering the town a link with MFR was made and the townsfolk were tipped off about our intended raid on the local Tesco. To our delight they heard us on the radio and were very welcoming to our needs and, in fact, broadcast our arrival on the store PA system. This had the effect of raising quite a bit of cash for the buckets. We also came to realise that we were now on the edge of ICT country and most, if not all, the footy types here at least recognised our shirts and seemed to be more ‘friendly’ than the natives back south. Our dinnertime stop was the Winking Owl and, en route to here, we called in to the Post Office after receiving a tip off that the lady behind the counter was a big ICTFC fan. How could we pass and not say hello? Whilst in the shop some of the troops saw toy guns for sale and promptly snapped these up in preparation for further ambushes up the road.
The Winking Owl was also welcoming and food was promptly ordered alongside the beer. A delegation of troops were then despatched to the bus stop to greet the newest recruit.
So, into the final stage of the day, we are now a troop of ten as we head out towards the Speyside Way and the trek to Carrbridge. This is prime ambush country and its not long before the boys are shooting their new guns. Grown men playing cowboys – priceless.
Part of this path follows alongside the Strathspey Steam Railway and, according to Capt ITN, there was a train due whilst we were in the area – a prime target for a ‘Great Train Robbery’. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. As we approached the bridge to pass under the line we paused briefly and heard to echoing sound of the steam engines whistle. The troops took up their positions in readiness for an attack. As the train went past, to the sounds of toy guns being fired, the faces on those passengers was a picture that I couldn’t capture. We trudge our way through the forest and sustain more ambushes until we eventually reach the tarmac again at Kinveachy.
The final few miles into Carrbridge were all quite boring except for the temporary traffic lights, which were displaying red. We stopped at these for a few seconds and formed an orderly queue until traffic made it a little dodgy.
Our destination today was the wonderful Carrbridge bunkhouse but this meant we’d have to pass the Cairn Hotel in order to reach it. This, of course, is impossible and we duly resided in the bar for a little while – well, ok then, a longish while. The charity bucket took pride and place on the bar but there was not repeat of Fro’s efforts from last year!!!!!
Ah, the Carrbridge bunkhouse, what can be said about this wee place apart from its superb style, ingenuity and homeliness. Its best described as a Wild West style wooden lodge with the added bonus of mains electric and water, in fact, if it hadn’t been for these things the chances are you’d have believed you were in the Wild West. The bunks were staked four high with a separate ‘room’ for those wishing more privacy, but the ‘frog treading’ brigade chose to battle in the main dorm.
During the dinner preparations there was a mains power cut and we thought we were actually going to experience the Wild West style for real. The cause of the fault was a dodgy kettle, which blew the safety trip on the meter. All rectified by bunkhouse owner.
Dinner was again enjoyed by all in the warm and homely dining / kitchen area where we were joined by Bronson who’d dropped down from Inverness to say hello. The beer flowed before the washing was done and the troops settled down for the night – after putting the cat out!
Team Gringo Ped’ Reading: 21.67 miles. 39487 steps