The End is Nigh – Tarfside to Kinnebar Links
via some other place
Days 13 and 14
Monkey3 – Icarus
The really important bit of this post is at the end.
But you need to read it to get there…
Day 13 – Tarfside to NWB via some place I’ve been before called Edzell
So I was up reasonably early to head to St Drostans for a rather lovely Bacon Butty.
Messrs’ Sloman and Lambert were nowhere to be seen.
I thought they may meet up for breakfast but no.
I took the tent down and packed everything away, and headed on up…
I owed JD some money anyway (as usual)
“Morning, A mug of tea and a bacon butty please” 🙂
“Sorry, we’re out of Bacon!”
“WHAT ************ ”
“But how can that happen”
“Mr Sloman had the last one, actually it was his 2nd”
That may not be strictly true OK, but after 2 years, it is now in my head as truth.
If it wasn’t it was some other greedy ******
And I thought we were a BIG challenge family.
Well, it appears we are, and your DAD has eaten your breakfast….
Was I gutted?
Bloody right I was…
“Do you a fried egg sandwich, I think we may have a couple of eggs left”
I agreed to this, but don’t get me wrong OK.
An Egg sandwich is nice, especially with a bit of sauce and a big mug of tea.
IT ISN’T ****ING BACON ALRIGHT!!!!!!!
Fed but mortified I bade farewell to the wonderful people at St Drostan’s picked up my bag, and without the wonderful taste of bacon in my mouth, made a forelorn figure as I trudged along the road.
My thoughts wandered….
“Humans taste like Pork so they say….”
“Hmmmm, maybe I could beat the bastard to death with my walking pole and then eat him between slices of bread?”
“But No… It would take too long to smoke the meat”
And I headed to the Retreat for a second cup of coffee and to plot my revenge..
|Carvings at The Retreat|
So having hooked up with about 120,000 people all wanting to do the now infamous BLUE DOOR walk I set off up the road.
To be honest, there were so many I couldn’t count, and after 2 years, there are names I can no longer pronounce, let alone spell or remember, but a few fold headed off along the road, and sown to the ONLY decent remaining bridge across the road, unless you want to carry on, walk through someones back garden, vault a fence, and then climb over an old Victorian wrought iron bridge that says danger and private and then clamber over barbed wire.
I had done that back in 2007, and did not plan to do it again.
Although, in 2016…We watched a man tumble nay fall doing same such, but I am already a year behind, so that will have to wait.
Some readers will by now have noticed, that NONE of my blogs are intended to teach anyone how to do this.
I spent years teaching bloody maths.
It was ok until successive pointless administrative governments ruined the bloody job by introducing paperwork at the expense of teaching, but that is a rant for another day too.
What I’m saying is this.
All these blogs are my take on what happened.
IF you want reality, then go elsewhere, because this is as real as it gets..
Where was I?
Oh yes, we bumbled down to the bridge and then across.
I think Mick was back with my now, and on route we were doing our normal hedgerow quiz.
This is where Mick tells me about stuff (he is a bit of a horticultural wizard), and says he will test me later under pain of death.
I have never passed this test, which is why I now walk with a limp..
No HONEST! He can be a cruel master
OK. Just Jokin’, he’s a pussycat.
He told me to say that.
|Crossing the bridge, it looks very different by 2016|
|Heading up the Esk|
|There’s that bridge.
NOT an official bridge
I have done this a lot.
Sometimes I think shall I go over the hills of Wirren again, and then I look at these valleys.
We wandered further round to find the cut off to the bridge of bullets and the short walk to the Rocks of Solitude and the BLUE DOOR.
It is easy to miss, because it is slightly hidden
|Crossing the Bullet Bridge|
Over the bullet bridge it is just a short pull up.
You can attempt the river from the bottom.
It is much clearer now than it used to be, or head up to the road and about 1km of tarmac until you see the sign for the Rocks of solitude.
You want the lower track that heads left.
It is a wonderful gorge and walk, with bit hewn out of the rock by Napoleonic prisoners of war.
There are pictures here, but not many as none do it justice.
And spend some time on the picnic bench in the carved out rocks.
A perfect spot for a rest and 11’s
|Lynsey will kill me for this one.
Everyone else looks NORMAL
Crossing the road through the Blue door, over the bridge right and then immediately left to follow the far side of the river all the way into Edzell.
Watch out for Salmon in the slow moving river.
And then it was Edzell, the TUCK INN for lunch and then down to the Butchers far down on the right, then back across to the shop with the red door to buy wine or beer or whatever to take to NWB.
A vending machine at NWB, but little else.
Get your stuff here or NOT at all.
The walk out over the bouncy bridge (see older posts for pictures) and then down through Chapelton, past cattle and fields to the road.
Watch out for the fence, it may be electrified. Zapped me one year big time
Once you hit the road it is a brief but dangerous walk to the crossroads at Northgate.
Hang a left off the road and take the parallel track down to cross just before the Campsite at North Water Bridge.
It’s a nice campsite, and friendly staff, but despite new boilers (so they say), I wouldn’t expect a hot shower.
I could put in campsite pictures if I took many.
I really must.
Maybe next time
Here are the lot…
Suffice it to say, that there was as normal a goodly gathering at NWB, and as the evening rolled on, and we ate our food and drank wine, and beer and whisky, and froze our nuts off, many folk went to bed happy.
Tomorrow would be the final day.
Yesterday it seemed an age, and now it was almost all over.
At least this year, I wasn’t too drunk to stand, and didn’t spend 20 minutes slowly finding my tent so as not to blunder through others past midnight.
AND NO, I wasn’t the one at Montrose who fell through Bob’s tent OK.
Day 14 NWB to Kinnebar Links
It was an OK morning, time to head to the coast.
The new cunning plan was to go via Hillside to Charleton Farm and Finish at Kinnebar Links.
The farm is an Oasis of wonders.
Kinnebar Links is The New St Cyrus
All was good except for Liz Robertson’s ankle
Liz had taken a tumble or something a few days before.
Her ankle was swollen and in serious pain.
She was going to drop out.
ON DAY 14?????
No way, we would have carried her.
Folk divied up her stuff so she had only the pack.
Then it was decided by hook or by crook we would convoy her to the coast.
This was now SERIOUS FAMILY BUSINESS
Liz was going to the coast.
She would succeed.
And off we set.
OK, some a bit faster than others, but often stopping and then waiting and there was a rolling subs list to walk with Liz.
|A NEW wreck of a car had appeared in the layby|
|The war memorial at Hillside|
At Charleton farm we stopped for cakes and tea and coffee, and scones and stuff.
If you walk past here and don’t stop you are either bonkers or really really anti-social.
Liz rested her ankle.
Just a short trudge to the beach and then that would be it.
Liz to get a lift back to Montrose having made it, and we would walk up the beach and through the dunes and the Golf Course.
And then, there we all were at the beach
FINISHED DONE, somehow elated and yet SAD.
So at this point I will apologise for bloody Mynott and his drink bottles.
That said, I did take it 🙂
And to the beach
|ME, JJ, Carl and Lynsey|
|Me & JJ|
Time to head back up the beach to Montrose.
Job done, and it had been MIGHTY FINE
Bo mucking about for me at the Park Hotel
This was NUMBER 10, I was in a room… My room, I had bloody earned it over the years.
A great time at the Park.
So many friends over the years, and a meal to attend
a trophy to collect
|This is of course what happens when you do it 10 times.
I almost feel like family now
He did his 1st the year I broke my leg in 2004
OK, best not to disagree with Al, and never ever, ever, discuss Religion or Politics with him,
and FFS don’t say Wind Turbines are pretty.