This year I hiked the great glen way in Scotland. It was early September. So it´s already kind of cold. The kind of cold, when your tent has frost on it in the morning.
I started on the west side in Fort William and my goal was Inverness. It´s a 120KM hike roughly so I wanted to do it in about 5 to 6 days. The first day all was fine. I exited the train, went into a supermarket to buy food and toilet paper and off I go.
It was already kind of late about 5 or 6 in the evening if I remember correctly. So I just wanted to find a suitable camp spot and go to bed. I found a secluded little gras paddock and set up my sleeping setup and went to sleep at around 9 or so.
The next day was simply spend following the canal basically until you reach loch lochy. From there you first leave the canal to go up the hills. Thats where I first heard the whistling. you know? the kind of whistling you have in a storm when you are inside your house. But the weather was fine. There was just a little bit of rain and basically no wind. I figured its just because I´m in a valley and the wind must be howling on the peaks of the mountains. So I pressed on.
I didn´t really think about it for longer. As the views quickly cleared my mind again.
Later in the day I was just filling my water bottle and came across another hiker. We had a quick chat and I asked him for how long he was out there already. I said nearly 2 months. And I asked if he had any tips, as it was my first time in Scotland. He said to never stray to far of track. I laughed and looked up from the water filter I had been looking down to. His whole demeanor changed. He now had a stern look on his face.
We said our goodbyes and went on opposite ways. I didn´t really know what to make of this.
The next night I slept about 50 Meters up the hill as that’s the only good ground I found to pitch the Tent. The night was dead silent not a single bird or other animal. Which was nice because I was quite beat. This must had been a cold night because as I alluded to in the beginning, there was frost in the tent. After I packed my stuff and convinced myself, that I had to get up. I wanted to start packing my tent, so I went outside to pee and then pack up. When I leaned down to pull out the tentpoles I realized, the Tent was covered in quite thick frost. I didn´t expect there to be so much at that temperature. And then I saw a piece were there was absolutely no frost whatsoever. A pair of handprints right where my head was under the tent. I definitely didn´t touch it there and I could not have done it from inside ether do the shape. Just to flat hands in the fabric. Again, I rationalized it away with, maybe there was residue oil from my hands from the last trip and the dew was not able to freeze there.
I walked the next 2 days without any major incidence. The first camp spot I had at loch ness was in a forest. I love camping in forests because at night you hear all the wildlife doing their thing and otherwise it´s quiet. But not this night. Again I hear nothing at night. Like not even branches rustling. But it is what it is. Next morning, I get up brush my teeth and hear the whistling again. Only this time it was louder. And a deeper kind or sound. Not the high pitched one I heard the days earlier. It seemed to move as well. I was a little unnerved by this, not going to lie. But I started to pack my tent.
When I lifted the groundsheet of the Tent to roll it up I got a very, very bad feeling. I don´t know why.
I´m not a superstitions kind of guy. But I could swear someone was watching me. All the while the whistling got louder. I hurried up to get out of there. And the whistling stopped.
On my last day of the hike I wanted to pee in the forest so I set down my pack at a tree and went up the slope of the mountain. As soon as I couldn’t properly see my pack anymore I heard the whistling again. This time I was to weirded out to ignore it. So I followed the sound. As closer as I got the sound first got louder and then more quiet. But you know how you can hear someone talk just as well close up when they talk quite as when the scream at you from far away. It was just kind of thing. It was always the same loudness but I could tell by the sound I was coming closer.
When I came around a particular big tree the whistling stopped. But no one was there. I must have walked about 30 to 40m further up the hill at that point and was very confused. I looked down and saw the prints of human looking feet in the wet leaves. And then I heard someone breathing. Right next to my ear.
I ran down that mountain grabbed my bag and ran. Needless to say, the pee break was done while doing that.
Scotland is beautiful, but I´m never coming back.