The final leg and final reflections

1350 miles over 101 days with around 112,000 feet ascent

I had dreaded writing this, as I didn’t want it to end. This would represent the end of a way of life which I’d grown accustomed to, like a second skin, and a return to the old.

Only it hasn’t turned out that way. Instead, I have a deep sense of fulfilment and calm. And looking forward to returning home to my precious family and valued friends. It’s a phase of endings and beginnings. No abrupt stop and start but a gentler moving on.

And one of the most important things is that of my mourning for Mum. My love for my mother is as keen as ever, but the mourning has evolved into something more fortifying. I will always carry something of my mother within me - whether it is the idiosyncrasies I remember of her, sticking out her tongue when scrambling over a particular bit of ground and hearing Dad tick her off, or the loving chastisement of Dad when he was up to mischief … all things I pick up on myself with Martin now. To my knowledge of how much she would be willing me on, knowing the strength of love between mother and daughter, which I saw between her and grandma, between us two, and now with my daughters and I. Passed on between mother and daughter, generation after generation.  And then there are the simple pleasures I share with her of the outdoors, of the call of skylarks and curlews, the joy of seeing a carpet of cotton grass or of heather, or feeling the wind against my cheek when sometimes it feels like it’s her reaching out to me.

Spending two days driving home is allowing me to assimilate some of what I have achieved over the last 100 or so days - and the different feelings and moods they developed during the different periods of the walk. A light was cast most clearly when we drove towards Orton from our overnight stay in Shap - suddenly the walk over High Cup Nick, Old Knock Man Fell, Great and Little Dun Fell and Cross Fell came into view - and the memories and the feelings in my stomach, heart and soul during that phase came flooding back. Pausing, getting out of the car and simply reflecting made me realise just how long I had been on the go, moving up through the country.

But turning back to these last few days of the hike. It continued to be a relief to me that I was now with Martin. I’d missed him, and although he’s not one to say it, I know he had missed me. We were happy and comfortable in each other’s company, but he clearly respected what I was doing and quietly supported me without fuss, whilst continuing to fit this in with his work. The only time we had had a bit of a discussion was when I pointed out that he was actually supposed to be taking some time off from work coming up to Scotland, and he was running out of time to do that. While initially resisting this, the next day he let me know he would be downing tools once I had walked up to Tain so that he could stay up there rather than driving back each day to continue work.

So over these last days, I had the constant entertainment of wondering what Martin was up to, and whether he would actually get round to walking out to meet me!

We moved twice during this time - saying farewell to Drumdranochit, Loch Ness and Inverness, cursing but loving the drive up into Lairg and the opportunity of seeing into the eastern highlands, and finally shifting to Keiss, and the singular joy of meeting up with Georgie and Maria along with Georgie’s boyfriend, Jordan - another step towards the end of this phenomenal experience.

So I suppose looking back the ending of this challenge has been quietly developing, starting with my emotional reunion with Martin back in Kinlochleven, and yet to end with seeing Jess with Sam and the grandchildren, and of course my father, once we get home. Seeing my garden, and gradually getting it back into control. Which will lead me to new beginnings - settling back into the work routine; our own home routine and how we may want to tweak and adjust it; adjusting my diet, how to stay fit and healthy; how to get work-life balance right…

But now to the highlights of the actual walk. The many and varied birds would have to be one - learning to recognise ospreys, razorbills, kittiwakes and black guillemots; spotting grey and common seals; the fantastic coastal scenery and the sheer, high cliffs. The kindness of strangers. The challenges: navigating overgrown, rough ground, fording streams and squelching through boggy ground; climbing over awkward barbed wire fences. The high winds. 

Back to the positives: discovering and admiring a young and developing Trail - the John O’Groats Trail - with volunteers clearly working hard negotiating rights of way; installing stiles and bridges; clearing overgrown paths.  The beautiful harbours - a stand-out for me being Berriedale. The coffee shops - the storehouse near Cromarty Bridge; Milk and Honey at Tain; Cocoa Skye at Brora; the River Bothy at Berriedale. To filming at the Fleet and sharing some of my experiences both on this Trail but also of LEJOG over all. And gradually developing plans to do some writing - not just on the walk, and gathering more information of the flora and fauna, the geology and landforms, and of the history and culture. But also on why walking and solitude are so beneficial; the rights to wild camping - pros and cons; the experience of lone walking for a woman… But what to call it? And would I achieve this next challenge? I had thought to do this after walking the South West Coastal Path but never got round to it, partly due to work, partly due to poor Mum succumbing to dementia and all that followed.  Would I get to it this time ….. we will have to wait and see!

So the time has come to sign out for now. Enjoy your own challenges, however small and insignificant they may be to anyone else. That’s doesn’t matter. But perhaps, after all, I’ll be back… ?!

Anne