OUTDOOR ISLE OF SKYE 28th December 2004- 2nd January 2005 Quite as to what possessed OGC members Monovie Asita and Mike Brandon to travel all the way to Skye, an island off the west coast of Scotland is a mystery (though in truth anyone who knows Mike will probably know the circumstances). Nevertheless the trip was so unplanned and sporadic that it turned into a journey of survival, psychological trauma, absolute freezing and general uncertainty – sounds fun! At first we need our way by train up to Inverness, and after turning down an offer to sleep in the train station we made a march in the direction of Loch Ness. We never found the campsite – and soon panic set in as the weight of the bags and the lashing rain began to take its toll. Using his military training we made our way across a golf course and found some trees were we bungeed up a low lying poncho and rolled our kit under to shelter it. Then, put the sleeping bags under and went to sleep. An early start was necessary however, to ensure no one discovered us. The following day we headed back to the train station and headed towards Kyle of Lochalsh. The bridge to Skye proved to be a nightmare crossing, being completely windswept and high we had to almost crawl at one point to avoid being blown off. A brief stop on the other side and the massive march to Sligachan began. Never before has one road seemed so unending, by now we were soaked through, the only respite was stopping at the rare dwellings and asking for aid. With much less than half the distance covered and night approaching we were forced to take shelter in…a graveyard. Waking up early again our hands were blue, Monovie looked about to die and Mike was pretty much already gone, but spurring each other on whenever the other collapsed the march continued. Finally we arrived at our destination and…were disappointed. After the horrors of ridicule by a group that claims to be seasoned outdoor people we found solace with some people up from London who came to our help on New Years eve morning when our tent had collapsed form exposure, and then frozen, the water had leaked so badly that it too had frozen and our sleeping bags with it, Monovie had to pull himself out of the frozen mass. However we were aided with a tent by the London trio and thankfully that probably kept us alive – that and utilising the fire to dry things in the local pub, which was the only structure for miles. Throughout this we also got a chance to do some walking and climbing, Mike’s complete lack of waterproof clothing proving a bane, but at this point, sitting outside and clothes that were almost unbearably heavy from how soaked they were and in temperatures of –11 we really didn’t care. Eventually the trains resumed on 2nd January and we were able to go home. The lessons of this trip? How did we actually live? It seems Mike’s complete self destruction made him immune to the horrors of the weather whereas Monovie entered a state of hibernation. Ultimately though when your there you have to get on with it, and no matter the weather, after a few days you just get used to it. Mike’s lesson – ‘never follow your heart’ , yep you’ll be cold wet and miserable – then again for all it was worth it was one hell of an adventure!