Having reached the loch I stood in wonder at the stupendous scenery all around. Scotland is a wonderful place and north west Scotland in particular for on any path and around any corner there is always a new spectacle in sight. If it's not a river flowing fast with cascading waterfalls and if not a loch, which there are many of all shapes and sizes with there own characteristics, then it's a hill or a mountain, many not named on the map but with fabulous character, aloft high and proud. North west Scotland is a wonderful land and the perfect place to spend the first week of my 1,000 mile walk. On my previous stage I had marvelled at the sight of Beinn Spionnaidh. Now I was awestruck by the sight of Foinaven and Arkle, two majestic mountains that I was walking near to. Continuing the walk past the loch the path petered out and it got very wet under foot. The Cape Wrath trail is obviously not a well walked route.

Without a path to guide me I had to make my own way from Loch a Gharbh bhaid Beag towards Loch Agarbh-Bhaid Mor and this is when I met an uncrossable barrier. Between the two lochs there was the Garbh Allt right in front of me, a river crossing far too wide for me to negotiate and running far too fast after the recent rain. Although the guide book I was following advised me to wade across I was not going to do so. I followed the river upstream for about one mile past raging waterfalls, beautiful but too dangerous to attempt to cross until I eventually reached a wide flat section of water.

At the place I deemed safe to cross I stepped onto stones until I was half way over but they were not easy to negotiate. The last thing I wanted was to stumble and get my backpack, GPS or camera wet so I decided to step off the stones and into the river. I stepped in and continued to cross slowly and carefully. Better wet and safe than trying to stay dry I thought. On a couple of occasions I was in water up to my knees but at least my backpack and equipment were kept safe. Eventually I waded across to the east side of Garbh Allt. After the drama of the river crossing I tracked up to a rock outcrop where I sheltered from the wind and took out my stove to make a hot drink. As I did so I dried off my socks and mused on the excitement already enjoyed for despite the events so far I was highly motivated about the walk. After wringing out the socks, putting my boots back on and on enjoying my hot chocolate drink I tracked south back to my original course and to the shore of Loch a Gharbh bhaid Mhor.

The walk along the loch side was not as easy as I expected. There was evidence of a path but it was not well used and often disappeared. Also there were many streams cascading off Cnoc an Lochain Duibh which I had to leap or wade over. I could never get into my stride because of the frequent hurdles until I had completed my walk around the edge of the loch. After Loch a Gharbh bhaid Mhor I reached a flat stretch of walking alongside Alltan Riabhach but this proved to be difficult walking too. It was all wet uneven peaty and tussocky ground with streams everywhere. I searched for evidence of a path indicated by the guidebook but to no avail but there was a more prominent track promised by the lower slopes of Arkle so I made a beeline for it and after a further difficult 400 metres I reached it. I was overjoyed to do so for I had been wading through bog and crossing river and stream for about an hour. My feet were drenched. Such is the life of an explorer.

Despite the wet feet I walked easily now on a good hard track towards Loch Aurigh a Bhaird and around the northern slopes of Arkle. It is an awesome white mountain which I had used as a navigation reference for the stage. As I walked past Arkle I continuously looked towards it and its cloud shrouded rounded peak as I had hoped to take a photograph of the summit. Alas the cloud stayed in close acquaintance to the mountain top and denied me the pleasure. Without the hoped for snapshot I walked on easily and soon reached Loch Aurigh a Bhaird. I skirted it on it's north east side with the spectacular massif of Arkle close to my left. I had been heading south east since Rhiconich and now I made a turn right to head south west for the remaining mile to Lochstack Lodge and my campsite for the night.

On the final stretch from Loch Airigh a Bhaird I passed yet another loch. This one, Loch a Cham Alltain a beautiful small loch was surrounded by trees making it an idyllic setting. I was now getting near to the end of my exhilarating day and I began to be overcome by the days walking. What surprised me most of all was that I had never saw another soul all day; I expected at least one or two people on the Cape Wrath Trail but I had seen none. However I was in my own beautiful world. From Loch a Cham Alltain I continued on along the good track and descended toward Loch Stack. Ahead of me I could see Ben Stack towering above the loch with a series of rock buttresses protecting its north east face. On the approach to the Loch I looked around Loch Stack Lodge to see if there were signs of life. Perhaps I could get a room for the night I mused. But no, the place was deserted and I looked through the windows of the lodge to see tidy well furnished rooms with an envious eye.

With no chance of accommodation at the lodge I walked past Loch Stack to renew my acquaintance with the A838 and having walked on a 100 metres along the road I made camp near an old building which sheltered me from the buffeting winds which had been promised and which were starting to rage. As I pitched the tent I looked up to Ben Stack and watched clouds racing over from the south west at a hell of a rate. On completing my pitch I took an energy bar from the rucksack and stood up against the wall of the building, looking out to Loch Stack and Ben Stack while eating it. I felt warm and contented, a good day's walking was done and I could retire to the tent, snuggle up in the sleeping bag and look at the next days walk. And so I did, hoping that it would be near as exciting as this brilliant day.

And so I retired to my tent, protected by the building, well pinned down and consolidated with heavy rocks. Anything to stop me blowing away in the evening. Tomorrow I was to make my way around the west foot slopes of Ben Stack to Kylesku. Oh, before I did I was woken in the night by a right old roar, a Stag must have passed close by the tent and sensed the Walking Englishman was close by. He certainly let me know he knew, I missed a heartbeat!