Team Gringo were then taken back to the Atholl Arms Hotel (piggin’ bar was shut though…) to commence their HM’ing. Once again the weather was excellent, being dry and breezy, a few clouds about mind, but no rain – which is good. The good ol’ cycle route (old A9) is again our company and, as we head out of the village, we pass the posh looking Blair Castle (the ancient seat of the Dukes and Earls of Atholl) which stands away to our right. With its roots in the 13th century, Blair Castle’s history extends over some 740 years and stands at the gateway to the Grampian Mountains.
The road now skirts alongside the main Perth to Inverness railway line and, not for the first time during this walk, we witness the passing of a train! Toot toot…
Although the scenery is quite good in these parts, walking along this long and, not so winding, road was a complete pain in the corns and not as half as much fun as Team ITN were having….probably. Today was to have been our ‘day off’ so to speak because, had we have reached target by the end of play yesterday, we’d only have to climb the Munro today (He says “ONLY”!!!) but we didn’t, so, we had no choice but to complete the route to Dalnacardoch today. That said, it was still a leisurely days walking and one of the shorter one’s to boot.
Having seen a signpost for toilets, we paused briefly at the House of Bruar,
as this would appeal to the females in our troop as it would be much more ladylike to use these than be seen at the side of the road with their trousers around their ankles. Although the signpost was there (just a single sign and nowt else mind) we still had to enquire as to their whereabouts. We are then directed into the touristy type shop. Obviously, the ploy here is, you can use our bogs for nowt, but, you may be tempted into buying something in the expensive shop. The toilets here were described as ‘Cloakrooms’, which kind of confused us common hoolies. Blimey, the gents weren’t arf posh, your very own flushable urinal…………..all that expense just to get rid of pee. Doesn’t make sense.
Back to the cycle route then and we soon come across the wee village of Calvine. It wasn’t really worth the effort of ‘taking’, we didn’t have the HM standard to raise anyway as this was with Team ITN today for its unfurling at the summit of Schelhallion. It looked so peaceful anyway, well, the two or three houses we saw anyway.
Glen Garry now spreads out before us and the distant hills of Drumochter look so inviting. As we head along the Glen we are aware that Team ITN are making for the same rendezvous at the snow gates by Dalnacardoch Lodge. We are also aware that, if they are there before us, there will be an elaborate ambush set up for our arrival. But Team Gringo was well prepared for this. With the foresight of the Private’s B, we were prepared to fight dirty. The PB’s, prior to setting out for HM3, had purchased a couple of bags of small water pistols and a larger ‘big mother’ of a water pistol. These were primed and tested about three miles out. We also stocked up with grenades (pine cones actually – big pine cones!!).
You should have seen us as we approached the rendezvous – all spread out across the road and keeping a beady eye open for any suspicious activity between the trees and bushes that occasionally lined the road and also wary of any booby traps etc. The approach, in places, is also very open and both Team’s could easily be seen. This is where the binoculars came in useful. However, all our preparation was in vain as we arrived at the rendezvous first with no signs of Team ITN. This gave us the opportunity to create our own welcoming committee.
We tried to wheedle some info’ out of Colin as to Team ITN’s last known whereabouts and then set about finding a suitable observation point and prime ambush spot. This was particularly difficult as the approach road was very straight and the tree line route was quite dense but a hiding place was found that gave a glimpse of the road that came down off the hill. Lance Corporal Fro’In was first to come into sight but there was no sign of the others. We waiting for him to pass us before leaping out behind and chasing him up the road with water pistol firing.
After his capture he was interrogated as to the whereabouts of the others and then commandeered into our troop in readiness for a further ambush on Colour Sergeant GJ. Unfortunately he spotted us and evaded capture. But there were still two come, one of which was carrying an injury – this should be easy.
Sergeant Gringo and Lance Corporal Fro’In then found another more suitable hide out. This was a concrete drain than ran under the road which had very little water in it. It was big enough to hide in, which he duly did and laid in wait. Now, because we couldn’t see much in the dense forest, Private Mrs PB had instructions to give the mobile phone a couple of rings once the remaining troops had come around the corner, however, the mobile wouldn’t be able to pick up a signal from underneath a concrete drain, so Sergeant G crouched down out of sight awaiting the tip off.
Unfortunately, we had overlooking the yomping qualities of Group Captain ITN and the injured Private Brew XI, whilst we were looking out for them coming up the road, there was noise from ‘disturbed’ galloping horses from the field behind us and, as we turned around, ITN and Brew approached from the rear and attacked from behind. We were done. Quality.
All had a good laugh, and we jumped on the bus and headed up the A9 for our overnight stay at the Pottery Bunkhouse in Laggan Bridge.
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A farmer, who was ploughing his field close by, acknowledged the chants of ‘Farmer, farmer, give us a wave’, the ale was flowing and all were having a good time until, that is, the arrival of the Bunkhouse owner. She was in a little bit of a rage to say the least. Apparently we shouldn’t have been in there due to a lack of chlorine and it also costs £15 per half hour session. We tried to soften the upset by having a collection between the bathers and paying the lady – with apologies.
The relaxation continued in the lounge with a game of Junior Scrabble which contained pictures and words – like dog, cat, frog! – around the edge of the board just to help us out. The game was eventually won by Sergeant Gringo after an early race ahead from Private Mrs PB - class told in the end.
More excellent food was duly cooked (pasta and curry sauce I think) and then it was time for Jnr’s ‘small’ birthday celebrations with the introduction of some cake and bubbly plonk. The cakes were decked out in candle’s that re-light themselves and it was fun trying to watch him blow the buggers out. There could have been another upset here for the owner…becauuuuse…the building was fitted with a fire alarm system and we’d just filled it full of smoke from trying to blow out the candles. Fortunately it never went off……..hmmmmm…wonder if it was actually working!!!!!????
After dinner it was time for the pub, which was a short stroll up the road. En route to the pub the lady of the bunkhouse was driving down the road and promptly stopped by ITN. Now, whether she took pity on us or not, she returned our cash which was duly spend behind the bar of the Monadhliath Hotel. This hotel saw the continuation of the HM3 Pool championship. More ale flowed before we retired for the night in readiness for tomorrow’s off-road extravaganza
Team Gringo Ped’ Reading: 10.89 miles. 19850 steps