Look at you all go! It takes true grit and determination to get through Day 3. It would seem you have that in bucket loads!!
Making it this far takes you to the crux of the trail. Climbing out of Ullapool on the notorious Coffin road; a 2.5km climb sitting at a steady 15% leaves you questioning your life choices. With the comfort of Ullapool only a couple of miles behind you, it’s the perfect place to scratch! But, if you push on just a little bit further you’re rewarded with the best single track sweeping across the plateau and decent to Corrie Hallie. Here you have an impressive 26 miles of wilderness to look forward to. Mega climbs, technical descents and one big old river crossing to negotiate. In 2015 Jenny experienced the Fisherfields in their true wild state… words from Jenny, pictures from James Robertson & Trackleaders
“The night before I’d been hallucinating big time. Utter exhaustion had convinced me I wasn’t the only one in the tent. I’d ask a question & turn to find I was alone. I’d hand 'them' food to eat and had even asked if 'they' needed pegs to help erect the tent.
Now, the next morning I’m standing shivering at the head of Loch na Sealga...and I'm spooked.
Having already been into the confused, swollen river up to my chest, with my bike making a sharp exit from my clutches, I walked up the bank up through the reeds looking for a better place to pass, questioning how those riders before me had managed to cross.
It’s day 6 for me and this is my first taste at endurance racing. Lessons were being learnt all over the place.
I could see the bothy, the smoke coming from it's chimney made it an attractive option right now. The fire keepers were two young German lads who looked slightly bewildered at the sight of me, sat dripping wet with my helmet still on.
“I’ll just warm up a bit and give it another go”
“Ok crazy Scottish lady!”
Back out for round two, my ankles are now screaming at me. They look more like stubs on the end of my legs. This is affectionately known as ‘cankles’ when the calf and ankle become one, created by spending so much time in the cold wet conditions. I was struggling to walk on rough ground without my bike as my cankles gave me little support.
I headed to a spot close by the bothy. I tried again and again. The current was too strong to float or push my bike across. I’d need to pick it up and carry it, but my set up was heavy and body too weak.
Every attempt leaves me colder than the last. After a couple of hours trying I retreat back to the bothy with the boys.
Rain's streaming down the windows outside as I huddle up by the fire till morning. I wake up a few times during the night with a sense of urgency to go but with no energy to do it.
My new plan is to cross way up stream which would mean a massive detour but I was running out of options. Hobbling back up the track, I thought about Iona Evans, she was the only pink dot to have appeared the previous year. Iona was diagnosed with cancer soon after her completion. She gave me a pink spokey dokey for my front wheel. It kept things real for me. She was suffering big time back home battling with this illness. I was out for a bike ride, choosing to carry on through the discomfort. A good reminder that this was/is a challenge by choice.
I'd spend the next few hours crossing not only the first river but a 3km ‘hike a bike’ section through the peat hags. This was to be the end of my ankles for the foreseeable.
Crossing the second river with relative ease brought the most incredible feeling of relief. I still had a long way till I hit civilisation but after a 24 hour delay I was on the right track.
I had pinged my family a message using my spot tracker. It turned out my settings were set to public…”
“Hey folks :o) All is good, still peddling!! Love you z xx“