Keïteï Ventures

As predicted, I wake submerged in the cloud. It’s 5:30am and I can’t tell if the sun has risen yet or not. My tent is soaked. Small beads of water roll slowly down the sides and I really don’t want to move. I’d slept well and feel rested but also really cosy in my shelter.

Eventually…..I packed up and begin hiking. Low clouds drape everything in a damp shroud and my feet are soaked within minutes. Another mountain hut looms in the gloom and has a wooden, knee-high gate to prevent the local sheep and wild goats from entering. I sign the guest book and march on. It’s mild enough and I shred my outer layers and peel back the bright yellow waterproof cover of my pack. As the morning ages, the low cloud shifts and begins to disperse and by mid morning, more hikers start appearing and we greet each other with nods and waves.

It’s fast approaching lunchtime and I haven’t found a water source yet and I’m running low on the stuff. I’ve passed a few marked water points on the map but none are running. The low clouds that had been smothering the south of Scotland had shifted allowing the sun to peek through bringing a dry heat with it. I reach an old Roman fort which lies hidden in the ground. A river is apparently running a few meters behind it but I try not to get too hopeful. Descending a hill, I pass a tall man in his 70s. He is using long hiking poles and carries a pack, he smiles as we pass each other.
“I wish I was going down hill” he says with a smile whilst eyeing the ascent before him.

A little while later I see two hikers approaching and these two are definitely thru-hikers. They carry large packs and hike with a gait attributed with thru-hikers. We smile on the approach and stop to have a proper conversation which is a first for me today. They must have read my mind as the opening sentence involves water.
“There is some water up head” one begins, they are Dutch and speak good English. “If you leave the trail and head down hill, you’ll meet a fence, go through it and you’ll find a very good water source”. the guy says as his partner holds up a bottle of clear water.
“That’s great” I say please to know water isn’t far away.
“Where is the next water source north?” they ask.
“Ah, I didn’t find one, everywhere is so dry,” I’m sorry I can’t be of more help and would have given them my spare water pouch to see them through till the end if it wasn’t empty. After swapping information, we part ways and continue on our chosen paths. True to their word and my map, fresh running water is music to my ears and I eagerly fill both my bottles. I was hoping to chug some and refill but the local midges have other ideas and I ram everything swiftly back into my pack and take off at a light jog.

Passing boulders which have erupted forth from the earth, I begin to descend and enter a pine forest on my way to Bryness. It is extremely steep and I’m glad I’m not going north. The midday heat is on. I’m sweating buckets and squirt summer-fruits cordial into my water encouraging myself to drink more. There are logging roads and pine trees coming up which will offer me great cover from the sun. At least they would have done several years earlier as they’ve been cut back. On a lovely note, I do see a red squirrel perched on a branch over looking the path. It retreats back into the only remaining cluster of trees.

I traverse over a few bogs and see cranberries and more bilberries. It is exceptionally dry and I can see where ponds would be but are no more. My feet are wet but only from the morning dew, the bogs add nothing to the squelch of my shoes as I tramp along. I meet an End to End hiker – someone who is going from Lizard Point in Cornwall to John o’ Groats in Scotland. He comments on the Pennine Way and said if he were to hike that section again, he would go north to south as in his opinion, the best is yet to come for me.

The heat begins to reach an uncomfortable crescendo and I trudge along roads and back into moorland. I can see heat lines and begin to search on my maps for somewhere I could go for a dunk. A waterfall is coming up but it sits too close to a town and a popular dog walk. Feeling this wouldn’t be a goer, I hike on and enter farm land and discover a flowing, small but mighty stream. I strip down to my underwear and sit in the flow, cooling down instantly. It is a bit orange from the clay but I don’t care, it cools me down.

The late afternoon is closing in and I bimble through a farm and out into sheep fields. I feel fatigue beginning to catch up with me and the sight of a flat grassy patch beckons me. It is secluded beside a wall and beneath wonderful smelling pine trees. I pitch my tent despite it being earlier than I’d normally pitch. The sun sets and illuminates the upper branches of the spindly pine trees. Completing my evening chores I settle down to update my journal and hear a voice. A lone thru-hiker appears ambling along talking into his phone.

Seeing me, he waves and heads over. We dissolve into the usual hiker chit-chat; what’s our daily mileage? How many days do we intent to do the trail in? Wild camping all the way? Gear? Favourite food? Other trails we’ve hiked? Others trails we’d like to hike? YouTubers we watch. The hiker’s name is Neal and he had originally paid for a night in the campsite in town. Due to it being a Saturday night, the campsite was livelier than he had anticipated. After his shower, he’d hiked on and found himself chatting to me. He glances over the make-shift camping site and asks if he could camp here too.
“Sure, go for it” I say, standing to finish assembling my tent as I’d been air drying the outer cover. Once complete, we return to our hiker conversation and get into the nitty-gritty of why we hike.

9pm rolls in and it is well after Hiker Midnight. Disappearing into our tents, I peer out for a final time and see a light mist rolling in over the hills. Hopefully it won’t venture down towards our tents, leaving them dry enough to be packed away.