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- I mean, Schiehallion just looked so inviting, I convinced myself I had to climb it even from public transport. The closest place I could get to, though, was Tummel Bridge. It was looking like a long marathon on tarmac with actual hillwalking just as a random break in between. The marathon was even marginally longer as I didn't realise I'd passed my stop and had to run and beg the bus driver to let me out.
- Though I had Schiehallion in front of me the whole time, it wasn't getting any nearer. At least the forest I was passing through was offering resickments, though! (Get it? Refreshments that'd make one sick?) Finally, I made it to the car park (from which normal people start the walk up Schiehallion) and could switch tarmac for some lovely earth.
- The good path lasted almost to the summit. It disappeared into the rubble some way below it, but the way to the top was pretty obvious, there was no way to get lost. And the views (such as this W panorama) were fantastic. I wasn't missing the path too much on the way down either, as the steady stream of people heading up and down the hill sort of formed one on its own.
- I wasn't going to just return to Tummel Bridge, though, planning to bag a Corbett or two on the way back. So halfway there, I set off up the track mentioned in the official walk for Meall Tairneachan.
- And then my English skills got the better of me. See, the walk description says I should head uphill once I come across a turning area on the track. I found a passing place, and thinking that was it, left the track to tackle the slope. The track would ascend another 100 metres that I had to fight the foliage through, and then I reached the top and saw I was on the wrong one (the 780 m one), so I had to fight some more to reach the true summit. But hey, at least the views back to Schiehallion were awesome!
- As were views in the other direction, towards Farragon Hill. (See the TURNING AREA below?) Originally, I thought I'd extend the walk all the way to Farragon Hill before making my way back to Tummel Bridge. But after that lapse in navigation had sapped away some of my energy, and I was running quite low on it to begin with as I'd basically taken most of the tarmac stages at a jog, I had to give that dream up. On the bright side, I reached Tummel Bridge in time to catch the second-to-last bus of the day. And it would still be, at that point, the longest walk I'd ever done in one day. In Scotland, at least - and if I added the distance between my flat and the railway station into the equation, because that had to be walked as well, also overall.