Kingston to Lossiemouth (8 miles)
Trail date: August 10, 2022
Method of travel: hike
I have to admit this was a tough day for me. I was underprepared both mentally and physically. I’m almost embarrassed to share this part of my story in any detail, but I also want to look back at this in 5 years and laugh at myself. So I’m going to share everything in excruciating honesty.
So I present to you, Sarah vs. The Heat: A Tale of Caution and French Toast
The walk from Kingston to Lossiemouth harbour is about 7-8 miles (depending which path you take), and most of it is very flat between a man-made forest and the water. My goal for the day was to reach Harbour Lights Restaurant in Lossiemouth before they closed (which turned out to be 4pm) so I was already kicking myself for starting late.
As I left Kingston, there were some lovely views of Spey Bay behind me, and on this particular morning the water was glittering a gorgeous turquoise color. A good start!
There’s a large rocky mound between the trail and water, which created a sound barrier that made the waves sound really far away. I stepped quickly along the dirt path and gave myself a little pep talk. It was a hot one. Already 25°C (77°F) by 10:00 am. 75% humidity. And it was only getting hotter.
Since I moved to Scotland, my body has acclimated to cold weather. Now I simply stop functioning in heat. Needless to say, I was already in my discomfort zone.
Bonus Tangent and mini lesson on Scottish weather:
Let’s put this into context. Scotland’s hottest summer months are July/August and this island typically steeps in a balmy 15°C (60°F) with humidity often between 80-90%. In the mornings we often enjoy very cool temperatures and our hottest part of the day is a couple hours before sunset. But not on this day.
So to Scottish people, hot days are considered anything above 21°C (~70°F). But in recent years we have been experiencing more extremes, upwards of 30-35°C (86-95°F). Let me tell you, this part of the world is not built for that. The relative humidity at that temperature creates an atmosphere that “feels like” 35-45°C (95-113°F). All these numbers were dancing around my head as I calculated how many miles I had to go and how much water I brought.
Anyways…back to the trail.
My only companion besides the inner voice of self-doubt was the string of giant concrete blocks next to the trail, every few feet, mile after mile. These blocks are remnants from World War II when bad people were doing bad things. They are classed as anti-tank (anti-invasion) defenses.
After 1.5 miles I stumbled upon a two-story concrete tower to the left of the trail. It was a good a time as any to do a quick sketch, so I took refuge from the sun inside.
While sketching, a few hikers passed by and we all agreed it was too hot. But, I had Harbour Lights’ french toast on my mind.
Onwards I went with the visions of syrup drizzled over bread fueling me on. However, after about 2 miles I realized I may have made a huge mistake.
The night before, I had switched all my gear from my smaller pack into my larger one again. However I forgot about my water bladder. Yes, I brought it, but I had not emptied/refilled it, which meant I only had 2L of water at the start of the trail. That would be fine on a cooler day. But it was reaching 30°C (86°F) with 80% humidity.
With 6 miles to go and 11kg (24 lb.) of gear making every step that much harder, was 2L enough to survive? Yes. Would it be comfortable? Hell no. As I calculated all this, I nearly turned back. But I also felt stubbornly confident in my abilities and since I had the safety of phone signal and regularly saw others on the trail, I decided to plod on. (I was also texting Wolfy whiney updates every 1/2 hour).
After about 2.5 miles, there was an option to turn inland and take a forest path, which runs parallel to the coast all the way until the Lossiemouth dunes. This meant I could get out of the full sun and wind on the shore – an opportunity I gladly took. The forest path is nothing exciting, just a dirt road occasionally used by logging trucks and the quarry. The forest is clearly man-made with its uniformly spaces pines and lack of diversity, but still lovely as the purple heather was in full bloom and lots of Red Admirals were floating about. Even though it was just as hot in the forest, the occasional shade offered a tiny bit of relief from direct sun searing my translucent skin.
About halfway to Lossiemouth the forest track opens up as it passes a quarry. This was not pleasant as the hot gusty wind blew sand directly at me, coating my sweaty skin. I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breath.
I hurried past the loud, dusty pit, and re-entered the forest. Which seemed endless. It was a straight line through trees for as far as I could see.
When the scenery around you doesn’t change for miles, your mind plays tricks on you. That, and the heat. Thankfully I still had phone signal to check my AllTrails map and could confirm I was on the right path.
After what seemed like forever, I found a sign that told me I still had 2.5 miles to go. I wanted to cry. I had a sip of water left, was drenched in sweat, and only had a few bites of a protein bar left, which just made me more thirsty with every bite.
Ok, so now you might be thinking…”It’s just a few miles, Sarah. What’s the big deal!?”
Well it turns out that my body goes into severe rebellion when I get overheated. The weight of my pack, the direct sun hitting my skin for miles, and the lack of water had tipped me over the edge. I felt cramps, headache, throbbing in my temples, and my face was as red as a tomato. My brain felt like scrambled eggs. Later I realized I had what is known as heat stroke.
The turning point
As I sat there in the forest bemoaning my sweaty existence, a young woman jogged past me. Yea..jogged. Jogged in the hot, sweaty, disgusting air.
Ugh.
In that moment I realised I was defeating myself with negative thoughts. In that moment I had a mini revelation that mental barriers can be extremely powerful, making me feel impossibly tired, thirsty, hungry, and slow. So maybe I just need to turn those thoughts off?
I decided to change the narrative. It’s just a wee walk after all. It’s a lovely sunny day. It’s easy. Get up and take one step at a time!
I mean, let’s be honest, what is the alternative? Nothing good.
After my little pep talk, things improved temporarily, and soon I saw the trees thinning out and sand dunes appearing in the distance. A change in scenery lifts the spirits! But with 1.5 miles to go I ran out of water and food – just when I needed it the most. The dunes were a welcome change, but brought new challenges. As my foot sank into the sand, I remembered that walking on sand requires twice the effort. After almost 7 miles, did I have any extra effort to give? No. But was I just going to sit down and give up? Hell no.
I reluctantly left the comfort of the solid forest trail for a cloudless dune desert. I would have given anything for my trail umbrella, but it was so gusty that it turned inside out almost instantly.
Did I mention I had been filming the journey? Setting up the camera, walking, then returning to pick up the camera. Yea…that kinda went out the window by this point. I was utterly drained, and just needed to keep moving. I am slightly sad I didn’t get more picturesque shots of the dunes, but then I remembered I can always go back, starting from the Lossiemouth side would be much easier! There would be plenty of time to paint after I ate.
Speaking of food…I began to feel anxious that I would have gone all this way and miss out on my favorite meal at Harbour Lights, so I called to ask when they stop serving food. 3:30pm. That gave me 45 minutes to walk 1 mile. Plenty of time, under normal circumstances.
But these weren’t normal circumstances. This was sand. Heat. Dehydration. These were dire times. These were moments of agony, self defeat, regret, and internal WAR!
Every step was a battle of it’s own as my pack clawed at my back like an angry badger hitching a ride. My mind was fixated on one thing only: french toast drizzled with syrup, lightly dusted with powdered sugar, sprinkled with fresh berries, and three tall glasses of ice cold water.
From the outside, my grumbling stomach was the only sign of life – any onlooker would see a sun-scorched zombie stumbling her way to an unknown destination moaning about breakfast foods.
River Lossie appeared to my left, full of paddle boarders struggling against the strong wind. Ahead the town rose up like a beacon of hope and I could hear the playful screams of civilisation in the distance. The end was near, one way or another.
The beach was absolutely bogged with humans enjoying the sun and surf, and as I made my way through the crowds of happy bipeds eating ice cream and drinking cold brews, all I could think of was getting to the restaurant before I face-planted into the sand.
I was also kind of annoyed that no one was cheering me on.
Didn’t they see how far I’d come? Didn’t they know how pathetically drained and hot I was?? WHY IS NO ONE CHEERING?!
I made it to Harbour Lights with a few minutes to spare. My face had reddened to a fresh beet juice red, and the look on the waitress’s face said it all. I was instantly handed a big glass of water as I collapsed into a chair.
I had the best meal of my life.
Afterwards I spent some time reflecting on the journey and sketching by the beach.
I hope you enjoyed the journey.
Watch the video:
Lessons Learned
It was a day full of lessons. Although I am being dramatic in this post, my internal battle wasn’t far off.
- I learned that when it is very hot, my average pace is 3 miles per hour.
- I learned to prioritise water above everything else.
- I learned to stop every 30 minutes to stretch and rest my feet – I call these micro breaks and they do wonders for body & morale!
The list goes on…but the most important lesson I learned is that I am more physically resilient than I thought, even if my brain does it’s best to convince me otherwise.
And please note: I’m not making light of a serious issue. Trail safety is important whether it’s 1 mile or 100 miles. Hot humidity leads to sweat which leads to dehydration which leads to headaches, cramps, and even delirium. Heat stroke. They say that in extreme heat to remain hydrated you should consume 1L of water every two miles. I was woefully underprepared.
The first thing I ordered when I returned home were electrolyte tablets, an extra 2L water bladder, trekking poles, and a mini water filter. Not because I always need them, but it will put my mind at ease for the longer hikes ahead.
