The Big Weekend: The MoonWalk 2009 in Edinburgh

Hiya again
Only a few hours since we all got back from the MoonWalk in Edinburgh, the fourth of its kind. All ten of us accomplished our goal of walking the full Marathon. It's not a piece of cake, and most of us have feet to tell the tale.
However, as soon as the sore muscles and blistered feet have healed, we will remember the fantastic night and day, and very special atmosphere. Most importantly, we will remember that WE DID IT!The Oban énergie fitness MoonWalkers with their medals.
A huge thank you to énergie fitness Oban for sponsoring the mini-bus rental, and to Dave, our driver, for doing a great job and for putting up with ten either very chatty or very quiet ladies. It was such a relief not to have to walk more than a couple hundred metres to get back to our transport.
A big thank you also to the members of the team, especially to Sam and Sam and Gillian who organised training walks and kept us focused, but also to everyone else: Jeannie, Leslie, Caroline, Julie, Karen,
My good friend Maggi, who has been inspirational to me for undertaking this venture, sent me a lovely card, which I want to share with you.I also want to dedicate my walk to Heidi U., Fré R., Brigitte M. and Housi B. -- good friends who have all had to battle with cancer in one way or another in just the past few years. I love you all and I hope to see you again soon. Keep well!
Here are some images to jog memories of the MoonWalk 2009:
This is us, just off the minibus outside Inverleith Park in Edinburgh, where the MoonWalk started and finished.A great acoustic welcome just inside the entrance. These ladies sounded fantastic – a great mix of Scottish traditional and Caribbean-Latin American percussion. They're Commotion, a "women's Samba drumming group" according to their website.The huge pink tent that sheltered us held a great evening's entertainment – The Swing Cats and The Eliot Murray Band were fantastic. There was food, there were temporary tattoos, and much more. Most importantly, there were ten thousand – 10,000 – walkers and hundreds of volunteer helpers.Almost ready to go! But not before midnight. Until then, into the tent to find out what it holds.Near our spot, this group of three cat-bra'ed young women made an impression. There were soooo many fantastic, imaginative, quirky, funny bras -- one would have to be a professional photographer to make a compilation.
Final scene of Nina Barough's presentation of projects sponsored by the MoonWalk/Walk the Walk. For more details, please click on the title of this post.As it happened, we walked on the night of the Summer Solstice, with a very nearly New Moon, so these gorgeous moon lights were especially welcome even though the night never really did get completely dark.You had to be patient: at times, the lines for the dozens of loos seemed endless.
We went through the gate at 12:25am. Took the last group almost half an hour from the tent to the gate.
About one mile into the walk. And this is the only photo of the actual walk. When I wanted to take a photo of the wonderful view at the half-way post, I realised that my camera had gone, and all the above photos with it.
A huge thank you to Steve, the helper in orange, who was on the spot to take details, and who happened to be there at the end of my walk when, exhausted and sore-footed, I asked him to run round in search of what must be my favourite toy. It felt like a small miracle that he should have been there, and that someone handed the camera in. I think, that half-way point was both the highest and lowest point in my walk.
Another one was when, wanting to check the time, I pulled out my mobile phone and dropped it. When I picked it up, the touch-pad had come loose and it looked as though the phone was broken. But the next day, after the walk, I managed to reassemble it and it works!
So, today has been an excellent day.
Mission accomplished and safely back in Oban.
The medal, front and back.A photo to remind me of a few great moments. And now, I'm off to take care of those blistered feet. Tata for now. I look forward to receiving your comments.

"Dress rehearsal" for the MoonWalk: Glen Lonan

Hiya again
Last Sunday I ventured out on a "dress rehearsal" for next Saturday/Sunday night's MoonWalk in Edinburgh. I had a fantastic time walking some 25 miles from Oban to Taynuilt and back along beautiful Glen Lonan.
It is an unprepossessing glen, much blighted by two ugly power lines but otherwise very peaceful, beautiful and mysterious.At the top of the gentle slope down which cascades a burn (I would read this as a raised beach), stands a "dun", a rocky outcropping that our forebears must have used as a natural fortress -- here it is, with its beautiful old guardian tree: Also, there are several intriguing hillocks that look a lot like grass-govered cairnsand several places where there are large stones that look a lot like standing stones that have fallen over or been pushed by sheep or cattle, as here, at the edge of the road where I took the photo aboveWalking hard, pushing myself and pausing as little as possible, was a special experience. I began to feel more and more at one with my environment, sensing changes in the air -- temperature, humidity -- and hearing things I would not normally notice. Those of you who know me know that I love cycling, but perhaps I am coming to a point where walking may become more important. It is an even more self-reliant form of travel, and I love the way it affords me glimpses of the minute things that line the road.
My walk took just over nine hours. In this time I came past a very still pond, saw some stunning stands of red fescue (festuca rubris) that reminded me of my childhood, a shrub full of deep red roses (by the Gatehouse to Glencruitten House), three or six purple orchids on the verge and in a field nearby, several fields pink with campionsand purple with foxgloves;other fields golden and white with buttercups, cow parsley and daisies and fringed with bog irises. At the top of Loch Lonan, half a dozen of buzzards soared high overhead below the gathering clouds.Just outside Taynuilt a fox disappeared into the shrubland; earlier, I had scared up a deer that bounded away, then waited and looked back at me before it ambled off into the undergrowth at a leisurely pace.
Several fields held horses and ponies, some of whom came up to nose my weird appearance: I was wearing a rustly plastic sky-blue rain poncho with cotton-wool clouds printed on it and the horses must have been intrigued by this apparition.
I talked my way through two herds of highland cattle, some cows with their calves, One of the calves ventured towards me to take a closer look, but was very shy and jumpy.The herd was accompanied by a feisty-looking little bull that stood squarely in the middle of the road. No matter, certainly not to someone who spent some of her most formative years living next door to an Emmental smallholder with several huge Simmental cows in his barn -- and no-one had heard of de-horning at the time, so those animals were forces to be reckoned with. How do you deal with cows? You approach with respect, you quietly talk to the animals, you ask their permission to step across their territory. Not sure it would work with a Simmental bull, but then I've never seen one of them lording it over his harem and his babies, which maybe explains why they are so aggressive. I would be if I was kept in isolation all the time...
All in all about a million "woolly maggots" (aka sheep) must dot the landscape to the left and the right of the winding, single-track road.
Oh, and I've not yet mentioned the very tall standing stone that guards the entrance to the glen, at Glenlonan, a small settlement of four, five houses, where the burn cascades gently down the slope before it begins its meandering way into Loch Nell, the lake of the swan.The lichen-covered stone (granite?) stands at least 2.5 metres tall -- well over a man's height. It is almost square in diameter, about 40-60 cm each side. A few paces away are round boulders arranged in a small circle:I probably heard more birds singing than ever before. And I was overtaken by a few motordyclists and, later, by six cyclists accompanied by their support car; and about half a dozen cars, vans, and sundry agricultural vehicles. I crossed the path of one other woman walker, and -- about a mile outside Taynuilt -- overtook a man and a boy carrying fishing rods and looking bedraggled and crestfallen in the pouring rain. I felt refreshed because it had been a hot day's walk until the sky darkened and the thunderheads opened their floodgatesThe rain did fall during about half the walk, which meant that the feet and socks inside my lovely light-weight trainers were soaked. An interesting test, with interesting results, especially on my heels...
I found a dry spot where I managed to put on my rain poncho and forget my applebut the apple was still there when I returned about two hours later -- never has an apple tasted better than that one!
Did I stop at Taynuilt and have a cup of coffee or a bite to eat? No. I took a photo of the War Memorial, sheltered from the rain under the large tree beyond it, took a sip from my bottle, rearranged the contents in my rucksack, and turned back the way I had come.
But I promised to myself that, after the MoonWalk, I would train to climb Ben Cruachan, the pointy double peak on the horizon in the photo above.
Towards the end of my walk, I was further rewarded by a metal gate bejewelled with raindrops that refracted the sunlight in gem colours,a rainbow that arched across the entrance to Glen Lonan for the longest time,a small handful of wild salmonberries,
and, finally, the extraordinary remnant of the rainbow, shot through with dark swathes of rain-clouds:Despite the rain and some rather bad blisters on my heels, I still managed to smile -- well, just looking at myself made me laugh out loud. Whaddayathinkathis?

Nearly ready for the MoonWalk

Hiya again
The group walk scheduled for today with the "girls" from énergie fitness in Oban had to be cancelled due to illness. But the training plan calls for a 20 mile walk this weekend. Circumstances were good last night, and I had always wanted to test myself in night-time conditions, so I decided to top our success at the Oban Mod (we came 2nd in the second of the contests -- ok, out of four, but still) by venturing out into the back country between Kilmore and Connel.
It was an excellent decision: perfectly full moon lighting the land almost all the way; the northern horizon never quite dark as the sun now only dips below the horizon; almost no traffic; virtually no wind. It was cold, which meant no midgies (gnats to non-Scots). Over the past year or so I have acquired sufficient local knowledge to know my way even in the dark and I had a wee torch just in case. I wore light-weigh walking trousers and very light-weight trainers, a t-shirt and a parka. Plenty of fluids, two apples (fantastic energy source), some bread (not a good idea, it makes me very sluggish) made sure I did not dehydrate or starve. I also brought a rain hat and a spare pair of socks as well as plasters in case of blisters, and some ibuprofen if my knee should begin to act up.
The hat and spare socks came in very useful as the night air was extremely cold (I wore the socks for gloves, later I draped them around my neck). Even though I walked really hard, I could have used a warm, long-sleeved top, gloves and even a scarf. And a hot drink would have been welcome. Mind you, my own mix of tap water with a shot of pineapple juice and a spoonful of Molkosan makes for an extremely good, thirst-quenching drink that restores the loss of minerals.
Well, with a bit of luck it will be warmer in two weeks' time, and we will be walking in less exposed territory.
I set off at 10:35pm, walked up Glencruitten past Glencruitten House and down to the intersection with the back road from Kilmore to Connel at Barranrioch (approx 2.25 miles). Turned south toward Kilmore, about 3.25m away, catching some spectacular views of the full moon reflected in Loch Nell, coming across a camper van at the top of the hill overlooking the Loch, answering a very rough-looking man's question, "Can you tell me where this road goes?", and disturbing some kind of fairly big bird in dense shrubbery along the River Nell (or Feochan Mhor). Reached Kilmore at 12:05am and turned back and up the hill again, this time pushing past the intersection and straight on to Connel Bridge (total distance approx. 7 miles).
No traffic at all between Loch Nell and Connel. A dog or three went berserk as I passed their barn; otherwise it was a perfectly peaceful walk, with the full moon at my back and my long shadow in front of me, and my ears picking up the first birds over the swishing of my arms against my parka.
Reached Connel Bridge at 02:15am, enjoyed the moonlit view and almost perfectly still water, the cry of an owl, and was startled by the wingbeat of a bird I must have disturbed when I did some stretching exercises against the railing. Traffic was very slight but noisy as I walked along the A85 from Connel to Oban.
Because I absolutely wanted to make sure I would reach at least 20 miles, if not the full marathon length of 26.2 miles, I decided to walk along the Old Shore Road in Connel. That was a good decision as it took me away from the main road for a wee while. Mind you, it only added maybe a quarter mile to the total.
Walking or cycling, the stretch between Connel and Dunbeg remains the worst bit along that route: there is no pavement; motorists use the fairly straight stretch of good road to hit their own speed records and most of them won't dip their headlights, so it's virtually impossible for the night-time walker to see where they tread.
At Dunbeg I was glad to turn into the settlement in search for the north end of the new cycle path to Ganavan. It was opened just a year ago, and is fully tarmacked (or metalled) but so far I have yet to see a single sign pointing cyclists the right way. If I hadn't explored in the daytime, the gate that keeps the cattle out of Dunbeg that roam alongside and on the cycle path would have remained elusive.
I climbed over that gate at 3:15am, 4 hours and 40 minutes into my walk. It's 1.5 miles along the cycle path Ganavan but, having explored a foot or cattle track the previous Sunday, I decided to cut across the field just before the cycle path veers east and dips down steeply onto the Ganavan car park.
The horizon to the north-north-east was already aglow with gold and orange; many birds were calling but the air was quite still. The rough track goes over and down towards the shinty pitch above Ganavan car park. It rewards the intrepid early-morning rambler with wet feet from the dew-dripping grass and some spectacular views of Lismore, the Firth of Lorn and Mull.
On the home stretch now, I gave it one final push for the beautiful and varied route along what in southern France they would call a corniche. I passed Glencruitten Church at 04:25am, and unlocked my door exactly six hours after setting out.
By my reckoning, using a one-mile gauge on the 1 : 25,000 OS map, I covered about 16 miles. My average speed is about 2.66 miles/hour. I was hoping to go faster but was a bit hampered by very sore blisters on my heels.
I came home to a perfectly quiet house and, after a shower, looking after my feet and popping some ibuprofen, had a very good sleep from about 5:30 until about 11:30. Today I feel absolutely fine, except for the rather bad blisters on my heels and big toe where the rough top edge of the sole in the trainers has cut into very tender skin. Must do something about those sole-edges.
Maybe one day I will figure out how to transfer photos from my phone to the computer and then I can share some of the blurry snaps I took along the way.
And maybe some day someone will come along with me and do this beautiful night walk in silence, or with only minimal talking.

First strawberry harvest

Hiya again
It's been longer than I care to admit since I posted here. Truth is, my involvement with the Lynnside Community Garden project has taken up as much time this past week as training for the MoonWalk in Edinburgh, making sure my translation business keeps going and growing well, and rehearsing with the Oban Gaelic Choir for our performance at the Oban Mod later today -- in preparation for the Royal National Mod, which will be held in Oban in October.
But I have cause to celebrate:These are the very first fruit of my labour in the flower and now fruit border at the base of the house I live in. They sit in a small white fired-clay bowl one of my nephews once made years and years ago. I have to go and taste them.

Getting ready for the MoonWalk: twelve-mile march

Clouds reflecting and refracting light.

Hiya
Last Sunday I celebrated my first full year here by PowerWalking about twelve miles. Up Glencruitten to "The Summit" and on to Connel along the Old Coach Road (which runs almost parallel to the train track), then down to Dunstaffnage Marina and Dunbeg; along the new cycle path to Ganavan; into Oban, up Dunollie, down again and up to Bealach an Righ, the top of the hill that guards the main-road entrance into Oban, down to the Oban Esplanade and home to Glencruitten.
It was a fabulous day and a great walk, with a few lovely surprises along the way, one of them being a spontaneous "abduction" to have a cup of coffee at one of my Reading Club friends' delightful beach hut overlooking Dunstaffnage Marina. Thank you, Angela!
Here are some visual souvenirs:

A glimpse of the bay near Connel.
Ardmucknish Bay/Lynn of Lorn.
Boats moored off Connel.
Dunstaffnage Marina from the main road.
I had been reading about a boat exactly like this just that morning before setting out.
Extraordinary co-incidence!
A glimpse of the sea beyond glorious, coconut-fragranced broom just before the
new cycle path dips down to Ganavan beach.
Bog-cotton and the spears of flag or bog iris on the verge of the Ganavan road.
Little Ganavan at low tide.
West-coast view from the Ganavan Road, just outside Oban. Lismore in the foreground;
the Morvern peninsula beyond.
Dunollie Castle seen from the Dog Stone.
The fabled "Dog Stone" between Dunollie Castle and Oban.
This is where the mythical giant Fingal is said to have tethered his dog.