The final county

First of all, let's clear dad's name. He did offer mum his clean socks, but she insisted he keep them because she hasn't got blisters. Besides which, it's academic, putting dry socks into wet boots does not mean that socks stay dry! Confucius he say.

We set out from Helmsdale, fed, watered, rested and dry. Along the A9, which wasn't quite as bad as expected, mainly because there wasn't as much traffic around as we expected. Although there did seem to be a plethora of waste lorries going north and timber wagons going south. Quite different aromas! Rubbish at the side of the road was rife and apart from the usual; crisp packets, plastic bottles (Mrs Innocence has only just worked out why some of them appear to have water in them - thanks fellas), there were also, a teaspoon, a fork, and tricky for me, loads and loads of broken glass!

We passed the memorial to the last wolf to be killed in Scotland -sad!

We bypassed the remains of the clearance village at Badbea. In the early 1800s major landowners in Scotland decided it would be a good idea to clear all the crofters off their land and replace them with large flocks of sheep. The crofters moved to small ares of land on the periphery of the estates and built villages which were soon deserted as there was no longer a means of earning a living, and many moved to the colony's. The landowners failed to make a profit with the sheep (no change there then!) and the crofts and the villages fell into dereliction.

At a layby on the Sutherland/Caithness border (yes, we're into the final county), we met Paul from the tourist board, who very kindly took our photograph - mum says it's just for the family album - yes the shorts are back!

And so to Berriedale. Everyone keeps telling us about Berriedale - it's the last big hill before JOG, but I think we must have become accustomed because it really wasn't too bad. And at the top, a red deer stag just passing the time of day in the trees at the side of the road.

The route was relatively straightforward into Dunbeath and in the final 6 miles we were reacquainted the wonderful call of curlew and lapwing, sounds we have not heard for a few weeks.

We passed yet another castle (Dunbeath) dad wants to buy - mum said no - meany!

We're in a caravan again tonight. Well it's actually a static, with lounge, kitchen, bathroom and 2 bedrooms - positively palatial.

On to Lybster tomorrow - our last death defying day on the A9 and just a short one. The time is drawing near and we are getting huge encouragement from motorists, and also from all of you. Please keep logging in every day.

M
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