To the north coast

Tidied the bothy, sawed some more wood for the next visitor. The rain had stopped to be replaced by a biting northerly wind. Within five minutes of leaving I was faced with the first challenge - yesterday’s river was now a wide, fast torrent, the peaty water hiding the depth.

I had no choice but to strip to the undercrackers and wade. Since I am writing this then I obviously made it. But with hindsight was probably a bit daft.

Forest tracks north, buzzed by three Typhoons chasing each other in circles for at least half an hour, bugger off I thought, you’re spoiling my peace. However this was small beer, with every step I was approaching a massively active wind farm and forestry area. I had to step off the track multiple times to let some enormous earth-moving vehicles past.

Eventually reached the north-coast where the northerly wind was reaching a zenith, it was absolutely freezing. White horses in the Pentland Firth grew to enormous breakers and crashed on the beach.

Transported to Thurso.