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Pictish Trail, Scotland – September 14th – September 17th (Days 0 and Day 1)

The exciting day was here. On September 14th, 2023, I left my work to travel to Boston parking lot with Chris, to leave his car and be shuttled to the Logan airport. The flight was in the morning, and we were spending the night on uncomfortable airport benches with person on the speakerphone repeating the same message over and over again. I did sleep maybe an hour that night.

At 5:30am we started the boarding process and soon we were in the air on our way to London. I would like to mention here that powder food caused Chris to be pulled aside and thoroughly investigated. My food was packed in my checked-in bag and I had no issue with it. The turbulences were really bad that day. At least they seemed bad to me as I didn’t fly for at least over a decade. (Something that I have to get used to if I want to travel the world). We landed in London in the early evening and had no issues with reclaiming our baggage. Everything seemed intact. Traveling seemed easy so far! But the hardest part was still in front of us. First, we took the train to meet with my aunt and uncle and have a meal and catch up with them, after 16 years of not seeing each other. It was great to talk to them in person. They walked us to the London Euston Station. During the 2 mile walk, we had a chance to have a glimpse at London. The streets were pounding with life, in spite of late hour – typical large city characteristic. Then my family went to catch their last train home and we waited for ours till late at night. It arrived on time and we started our torturous journey with three transfers to arrive at Edinburgh. Why torturous? As I mentioned before, we only slept for one hour and the conditions and times of transfers didn’t actually contribute to comfortable rest. Another night without sleep was taking its toll on us. Miraculously, we made all the transfers on time and we arrived in Edinburgh.

Finding a cab outside the station was very easy. It took us to the rented storage unit three miles away. Instantly, we got busy assembling our bikes and soon we were on our way back to the train station to get on the train to Thurso.

We arrived around 11pm and quickly discovered that temperature outside dropped to low forties from high and low seventies in London and Edinburg respectively. We bundled up and walked with our bikes to the end of the platform to discover that the doors were locked.

Luckily, there was a help button by the door and real person picked up after we pressed it. She informed us (it was a woman) that there is another exit in an opposite direction of the door that we stood by. It meant that we weren’t really trapped as we thought.  What a relief haha! We then pedaled 13 miles in the dark to the most Northern Point of UK – the Dunnet Head. We set up our tents on the grassy field by the lighthouse. It was marked by some sheep tarts 😊, and we had to be careful to choose good spots. The night was chilly, but the sun welcomed us in the morning.

We ate our powdered meals mixed with water and soon started our exciting journey from this point back to Edinburgh. We stopped for our first meal at a café in Thurso, replenished water and we were ready for the adventure!

As paved roads started transforming into gravel and the rain clouds started forming above us, we rode filled with awe with the surrounding us landscape. The wind was our companion as well in the open spaces. It made the riding more challenging. We didn’t see many trees and we noticed that some pine trees looked planted for logging. There were young trees planted and cemeteries of dead stumps were very visible, contrasting with the full of life small patches of forestry. They looked very profound and sad. The sheep were free range, climbing the steepest slopes as we stared at them with our mouths open with wonder. How could they climb so well? How far were they willing to go? We later found out that the sheep are hefted (means they lived on the land for generations and they know where their home is). They seemed to have a very good life. I grew little bit jealous of them during our trip, as they are roaming freely, enjoying their simple life. My life was free at that moment only, when I decided what to do with my time instead of trading it for money as I do almost every day of my life.

There were gates everywhere and as we passed one of them, a man in his early thirties (maybe late twenties) appeared out of nowhere in pouring rain, wearing sandals with socks and shorts (what I quickly noticed). He asked us if we are following the bike route and advised us against riding towards a moving bridge and remote highlands. He also asked if he could use our phones to call his girlfriend to let her know he was ok. Unfortunately, our phones didn’t have service there. My Verizon travel plan forced me to put my phone into an airplane mode for the duration of the trip. I needed a wifi to communicate. My Garmin Inreach filled the communication gap with my family. It was a weird, rare encounter that we will remember for a long time (we were in the middle of nowhere). Was he a ghost? How on earth he knew which way we were headed? Of course, we didn’t listen to him. We were not going to omit part of the planned route because of a sketchy bridge and muddy highlands.

And we were right after all in spite of his warnings. It was challenging to thread through the muddy sloped trails and the bridge was indeed slippery and swung with each step, but we would have missed the most beautiful landscape that encompassed us from all directions. We felt emerged in it and overwhelmed with its beauty. I tried to imprint the sight into my mind permanently. Hopefully, I will forget where I put my keys or what I came into the room for, but this picture of absolute beauty will be there whenever I choose to look at it in my mind. I try to be very mindful and present in moments like this. I remember how uncomfortable the rain made me feel. The water sloshing in my boots. The sticky rain paints annoying me with their touch. The raindrops caught in my mouth and my nose when trying to breath while pushing my bike up the trail. But the beauty contradicted the discomfort, placing me in the odd balance. I would rather be there uncomfortable and hungry and sip it with my eyes, experience it than sit in my work cubicle in very cozy conditions. I loved every second of it. (And I am still there when I’m writing this paragraph – inside my head.) This is what I define feeling alive.

The day was ending, and we decided to look for a flatter spot to camp. We setup and the rain became stronger. And I fell asleep to the music of it.