Day 2 - Easter Drumquhassle Farm to Rowardennan

The logic of retiring before the sun going down was to get up early the next morning and begin our 15 mile trek to Rowardennan (unsure about how you say this one. I think it's something like...Frank) where, hopefully, we'd be able to rest again. The morning was still cold. Frost was built up on the grass, the condensation from our tent had even frozen. The real question, however, was whether or not Sean's battery had fully charged. As we ate breakfast and took down our tent, Sean noticed that Yes! His battery had charged!

I checked the information board in the shack which had random bits of information. It stated that the next town over was called Drymen (pronounced Drih-men). This town had a post office, a convenience store and a pub. Opening times were also listed on the board. The post office opened at 9 am so I thought it would be good to show up around then to mail postcards to family to tell them we're still ok.

On the way to Drymen. In the distance you can see Loch Lomond. This is the lake we hiked along for most of our trip.

We didn't get to the post office until about 10. We passed the pub, which was closed, and went into the convenience store (called Spar). I didn't get a photo of the Spar but this is what one would look like:

I forgot to mention that one of the reasons I went to bed so early the night before was that my headlamp was accidentally left on throughout the day by the user (me). That being said, I had now joined the Brotherhood of the Dead Battery Association. Sean was the founder and president, I was just a member soon to be emeritus. Spar sold batteries and snacks.

With my newly acquired pack of AA batteries in hand, I was pretty sure that I had somehow cheated death with this purchase. I didn't really bring too many chewy snacks on the trip so I thought it wise to buy something that might be able to sustain my body with something healthy and nutritious. If you were thinking granola, you should be shot-along with the other sock and Birkenstock wearing people of Northern California. This is what I had:

You just can't go wrong with Starmix.

Next stop was the post office. Sean went in while I stayed outside with our packs. It seemed he was in there for ages. As I sat outside I noticed some interesting people going into the post office. One woman was walking two of her greyhounds.

"Good Morning," I said.
"Hello!"
"Are those whippets?"
"No," she said in a condescending tone. "They're retired greyhounds. They used to win a lot you know."

She then started to tell me more about her dogs as I prayed Sean would just get our postcards so we could mail them and get on with our trip. After she finished instructing me on the all the subtle differences of whippets and greyhounds, she left with a smile.

Meanwhile a man was trying to pound down a door that looked like a side entrance to the post office. We exchanged looks when Sean came out. The man looked very Scottish. I think his name was Scott. If not, it really should be.

"So. You lads hiking the WHW?"

Here we go again. What an opportunity was lost to answer with something hilarious. One of these that Sean came up with after the fact was something like, "No. We're not. We're just hanging out near a post office with ticking rucksacks. You want to wait and see what happens?" Instead we just replied with a smile and a yes.

I'm glad neither of us were that clever (or stupid depending on how you think about it) because it would've taken even longer to get out of Drymen. At the request of Mr. Ford, here are some more pictures. The door he was pounding on was actually a person's house.



Onward. As you can see we did have to hike through towns at some points. Drymen would be the last town we would see because after this would be nothing but hamlets, the odd cottage, sheep, cows and wilderness. Oh the adventure continues.

Next adventure is Conic Hill. The hill has an elevation of 1184 ft. above sea level. That doesn't sound really high does it? Well with nasty weather it proves to be very dangerous so we decided to suit up before our ascent.



Sean was convinced he was going to end me. So I took another photo of him. I figured the more photos I took, the less chance there was for me to die without some kind of photographic evidence.



Our confidence was still pretty high at this point because our gear was holding up rather well. We invested in name brands such as Northface, Marmot, Vasque and...Teva. Our trousers weren't exactly dry at this point because we didn't think to change those before we went up the hill. Enter skiing Sean.

Sean was feeling so good about himself that he decided not to end my life in the Scottish wilderness. Instead he thought skiing on wet grass was the next best thing. Surprisingly, he was really really good at it. I advised that it would be awesome for people at home to see this newly acquired skill. You know how some people fold under pressure?



Sean is no exception.

We decided not to summit the hill because the weather was absolutely atrocious and Sean's trousers were muddy and it looked as if he'd had some bad curry the night before. We made it to Balmaha (pronounced Bahl-maha...kind of like Omaha but not) famous for its...boats?

Apparently if you want to get a swift boot to the arse you head left of the sign.

Wet trousers and hunger had brought morale down pretty low when we got to Balmaha. We did get a boost of confidence because according to what we had read, the Balmaha Welcome Center was great for providing maps and guides of the West Highland Way (not to mention somewhere warm to sit in even for a few minutes). We approached the building and noticed they even had benches outside! We were in heaven. Sean went over to the door and...locked. I checked my watch. It still wasn't April 1st which is no doubt when the place opens.

The only thing that was open was a public restroom. I decided to put my dry trousers on first because I'm selfless like that. Just as I finished putting my dry clothing on, I saw what looked like a first aid kit hanging near the sink on the way out. As I got closer it became clear as to what it really was. It was in fact an electric hand dryer. Would it be turned on before April 1st? This country seemed to be exceptionally obsessed with April Fool's Day.

NO! I must have missed byelaw 286b paragraph 18 of the Scottish code of conduct. I imagine it would read something like this:

"All edifices public and private must remain closed and boarded up until April 1st. Exceptions to said rule are public restrooms with electric hand dryers for they must stay open year round..."

After warming my hands for an undisclosed amount of time, I told Sean that he should also change clothing and partake of the hand dryer. He did so. I stuffed my face with food while he did so.

Upon his return we decided to hash over the remaining 6 or 7 miles we had yet to hike for the day. Sean busted out his waterproof map of the WHW and we discussed that we needed to hike quickly or we wouldn't make it before nightfall. We both then started to put our packs on when a Scottish man pulled his car over to where we were and asked if we knew where the Marina was.

This was our first time to Balmaha (apparently his as well). Sean stepped forward (as he does) to give this guy some direction in his life.

"Do ya know where the Marina might be lads?"
"Marina?" Sean asked. "Well let's see. I got this map."

He brought out the map we were just looking at. It was about as useful as a globe.

Sean explained, "Well, as you can see. We're heeeere. Which means your marina...well you can't really see it on this map. I'm not from around here."
"I gathered," said Scott.

Scott walked away confused, angry and now even more lost than he was before his conversation with Sean. Sounds like most people Sean speaks to.

Nothing was said between Sean and I after that conversation because we didn't want to say anything mean about poor Scott. The silence was broken by my mentioning something Sean was standing in front of. Here's what Scott would've seen if Sean hadn't been blocking the way:

A highly detailed map of modern day Balmaha complete with Marina, pubs, bus stops and public restrooms.

We both had a good laugh at Scott's expense, of course, and headed for one more trip to the magical loo with the hand dryer. Every time a person uses the dryer, a little red light turned on and the machine would pump out heavenly hot air for about a minute or so and then turn off. I did this about three more times until the red light would come on but no hot air would blow out. Sorry people of Balmaha. We wouldn't have had this problem had your welcome center been open and warm.

For the next 4 hours we hiked mostly up. Our anticipated speed was drastically reduced because of the uphill struggle and we saw this progression:

I would've taken a photo of a friendly looking sign we saw when we finally got to Rowardennan.
The sign read:

Rowardennan B & B. £29/person
Walkers welcome!

It had been pouring down with rain the whole day and did not look like it was going to stop any time soon (what did I really expect? It's friggin' Scotland). We didn't want to be mucking about with a tent and would love a warm meal. We also wanted to ask the hotel if they knew if the hostel was open or not. Sean had really done his research and knew that there was a hostel that charged a nominal fee for a dry place to stay.

The night had definitely fallen and we could see the hotel maybe 50 yards ahead. Our plan was to ask if the hostel was open. If so, we'd stay at the hostel. If not, we'd stay at this wonderful B&B and thank Sean's nana for it later. There were pieces of A4 paper stuck on every window of the B&B that said:

HOTEL CLOSED DUE TO A BURST PIPE. NO ACCOMMODATIONS AVAILABLE.

That's it. No more information. We just wanted to know if the hostel was open. We thought it prudent to persist and knock on the front door and ring the doorbell. Nothing. We saw a light on. It was only about 8pm. They were probably instead drinking tea and nibbling on their rich tea biscuits. Jerks.

We kept on.

We found a sign with an arrow pointing right and the words YOUTH HOSTEL. Finally. We walked another 20 yards to a building that was locked up. Sean then insisted that this hostel looked nothing like the one on the internet. I tried to picture what it might have looked like on the internet. Let me help you because I couldn't do it either.

The locked building in front of us looked nothing like this. I tried to take a picture but the Scottish night was like a black hole in that it didn't let light travel beyond its source. The one good thing about the building is that it provided us with good protection from the lovely Caribbean winds Sean spoke of earlier. We thought we'd set up our tent in silent protest of byelaw 286b paragraph 18 of the Scottish code of conduct.

Here's what the lock looked like:

This picture is for Randy and anyone else who still has the mind of a 14 year old. Me included.

Oh well. My headlamp was now going to be put to great use tonight. I opened the battery compartment and noticed that my headlamp didn't take AA batteries. It took AAA. I was back in the Brotherhood baby! Fortunately, Sean had some extra AAA's and was nice enough to give them up. Sean, by the way, was still an active member because his camera had blown through the remaining battery power he had left.

Sean's camera - 2; Sean - 0


Us in all our glory!

I'd like to draw special attention to what Sean is holding in his shivering hands. It looks like a tissue. It's not a tissue. It once looked like this:

On the package the instructions read: Open package and shake. In 15-20 minutes your sac magique should heat up to 120-140 degrees. Sean shook and rubbed the thing for a good 30 minutes while I got our food ready. He gave up on the darned thing and set up the tent and put the sac magique into his dry sleeping bag (we had special compression sacks that kept our sleeping bags not only dry, but also to a manageable size for packing purposes).

After getting into dry clothing, our food was ready to eat. We ate inside our tents and inside our sleeping bags. Our sleeping bags were lifesavers. They were rated far below the temperature outside so we slept warmly and comfortably...until the Scottish Police came.

Well we don't really know who it was. A car stopped dead in front of our tent which was on the front porch of a closed up building. They stared at us and then took off. This happened twice. I think we were dancing the line on violation of the byelaws.

We finally got to bed around 9pm. As I layed warmly and snugly in my awesome sleeping bag I got a nudge in my side. My first reaction was to check my watch. It never lies. 3 am.

"Dude! Check this out! Hold this!!!" Sean exclaimed in glee.

Hang on. Two dudes. One tent. This is not sounding hetero at all. I decided to play it safe and put my hand high up in the air. Sean slides what feels like a napkin into my hands. It was an odd sensation. A hot sensation...around 120 degrees hot.

"What is that?"
"Rod! It's my hand warmer! It finally works!!"

We both burst out laughing at 3am in the pouring rain and 30mph wind. It's the little things in life. That being said, never buy Coleman anything, no matter how small in size it might be. I guess it's not that the darned things didn't work, it's just that they take a lot of planning to use. 6 hours? Seriously Coleman. Get a job.