Our dip in the Loch now completed, we discussed on what to do next. The day was still relatively young. We could look at heading back to the cottage, having some lunch and maybe doing a walk. Pete suggested that we keep going to the very other side of the Loch. Looking at in the vague distance, it didn’t seem like it would take too long to get there, so we agreed. We were soon to be proven wrong.
Here’s the thing about rowing, it’s not very easy. My only prior rowing experience had been on the rowing machine at the gym. There was that time I worked on a Persian Galley during a naval battle, but that was during a drug induced coma and sadly I hadn’t managed to retain my form. We had decided that we’d all take it in turns rowing. I dutifully stepped up for my turn and proceeded to do a quite abysmal job of it all.
I must have been overcompensating with one of the oars, as whenever I stuck the oars in to the waiting Loch, the boat essentially went around in a circle. I eventually managed to get some basic rhythm going and we crawled along for a bit until it was Adam’s turn to take over. His turn ended pretty much how mine did, as did Luc’s later on. Pete rolled his eyes in derision at our derisory attempts.
Eventually, we made it to the other side of the Loch. There wasn’t a dock as such but there was a metal pole, that I managed to tie the boat to. Satisfied that the boat wasn’t going to float off, myself and Adam had a look around. In front of us was a large forest, with no clear path as to how to get through it. There was a slope that required climbing to get into the forest proper. After the forest, who knew what awaited us.
Pete and Luc had already set off into the wilderness while Adam and Myself had made sure that the boat was secure before scrambling up the hill to join them. The forest wasn’t overly dense but the ground was littered with rocks and fallen trees. Pete and Luc had seemingly taken a smoother route through the forest to the other side. We could hear them in the not too far distance. The route to where they seemed to be was obstructed by a number of felled tree trunks. Adam recalled that we had been told of a huge storm the day before our arrival, which could have accounted for this veritable tree graveyard. I anticipated that he was correct.
The fallen trees were not only getting more frequent but they were also getting higher up. This was resulting in me having to stand on them to get over to the other side. The problem was, not all of them were secure and they were liable to snap at any time, sending me tumbling pathetically to the forest floor with no warning. I developed a system of tentatively testing the trunk with one of my feet. When content that the tree would hold, I would then step my other foot onto it and get over as quickly as I could.
One trunk was considerably less sturdy than I had anticipated and as I stood on top if began to drop to the ground. I had a sharp jab of fright as I waited to see what would happen. Thankfully, the trunk didn’t snap. It just lowered down slightly and I was able to retain my balance and make my way to the other side.
After traipsing over the numerous collapsed tree remains, we finally came across Luc and Pete waiting by a large wooden gate at the end of the forest. We stepped through the gate into a deserted filed/bog surrounded by mountainous terrain. Pete had a look around and started making his way determinedly towards the mountain. We all knew what this meant. We were going to climb it.
I took a look at the ground before me. It was boggy in the extreme, so I carefully watched my step as I made my way to the mountainside. Pete was already there and was beginning his ascent. Climbing was not easy as there wasn’t much to grip on to. Pete was up front, with Luc and Adam behind him and myself taking up the rear (Ooo Err!)
I was struggling with the ascent to be honest. It wasn’t so much the climb but the pace that was doing me in. Had I been left to do it my own speed I perhaps wouldn’t have been as tired, but I didn’t want to hold the other lads up too much so powered onward. We stopped briefly and had a look at the surrounding wilderness. We sat in silence, absolute genuine silence, the sort of silence you never hear during an urban existence. We’d come to Inverness to get away from it all, and at that exact moment, we really, really had.
With the silence ringing in our ears, we started up again and continued to a higher part of the mountain. Here we found the spring for a small stream that was flowing at the bottom of the mountain. I was tempted to have a sip but decided against it. We climbed a bit higher to a jagged outstretched part of the mountain and looked down on the field below. It was empty and desolate, the odd trickle of wind caused the thistles to gently tremble. In the horizon, further mountains lumbered over the surrounding countryside.
Pete and Luc let out a roar that reverberated in the air. I had never heard such a profound echo in my life. Not to be outdone, I yelled “MORTAL KOMBAT!” and grinned widely as it echoed back at me like the old advert from the 90’s.
It was way past afternoon at this point and evening was beginning to approach, so we clambered back down the mountain to get back to the boat. Upon returning to the field, I promptly stepped in the bog and the cold muddy water went all the way up to my ankle. I bemoaned the situation and then squelched my way over the trees in the forest and back to the boat.
We all piled into the boat to make the long row back to the cottage but before we set off, Pete demanded we stop. We wondered why, was something wrong? Was there a hole in the boat that Pete had just noticed? Pete took the oar and dipped it in the water. He then reached over and stuck his hand in the Loch as the boat tilted towards the water. After a few months of stabbing at the water below, Pete popped his head back up triumphantly, holding a half broken bottle.
We inspected the bottle and realised that this was really quite old. It was for ginger beer and was a sandy coloured opaque bottle with black writing on the side. Who knows when this would have been chucked into the Loch? Pete inspected the surrounding water and found two more. Pete grabbed these and plopped them in the boat for further inspection when we reached the cottage.
The boat journey back felt a lot longer than the initial one out, due to the fact there were no stop offs this time. The sun was beating down on the boat and I began to sweat profusely on account of wearing my buoyancy aid as well as a shirt and a jumper. Being that the weather in The Highlands had been known to turn at a moment’s notice, I had dressed accordingly. However, the sun continued unabated as we neared the shore. We negotiated the high reeds near the makeshift jetty and then tied the boat up on the cottages private dock.
Upon returning to the cottage, we found that the hot water wasn’t working, so none of us could indulge in a warm shower. We called the cottage owner who said someone would be coming to have a look at the water tomorrow. Pete and Luc went to their rooms to have a lie down. Myself and Adam entertained ourselves by watching an old episode of WCW Nitro on my laptop.
We were all pretty exhausted by the events of the afternoon, so we spent the evening and night in the cottage. Luc prepared some vegetable kebabs and we ate them with gusto. We attempted to play poker, but by this point I was wiped out and deliberately lost all my chips before collapsing on the sofa while the others played at the table. Not soon after, I retired to bed to read while the others had a chat in the living room for a while before also going to bed.
I slept that night, let me tell you. More to come in the next chapter as we hit day 4!
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