Out of Gas

One reason we chose our van was its winter features; the onboard autogas tank and the heated water tanks, so there was no excuse not venture out over the festive period.

The only problem was, on one of the coldest days of the winter so far (minus six) we drove to Argyll with hardly any gas in the tank and only a vague idea where to get gas.

The girl at the first petrol station didn't even know what Autogas was. At the second stop we received a resounding "No".  In Arrochar they were more helpful and said we would probably need to travel another two hours to Oban to get gas.  But it was getting dark and by the time we got to Inveraray we were ready to stop.  The temperature was dropping dramatically.  The sea Loch Fyne was frozen! Thankfully the Argyll Holiday Park was semi-open and allowed us to use a hook up for £10 and also use the service point.  It was not the wild camp we had planned but we were alone in the touring site and anyway we had only ourselves to blame.

Frozen Loch Fyne

This was the second year I took part in a running challenge The Marcothon which required me to run for at least twenty five minutes every day in December.  Next morning was slightly warmer and we ran from the Park along the shores of the frozen loch.  That woke us up.

I phoned ahead to a service station in Lochgilphead - at last we found our gas. From there we drove to Kilmartin where the standing stones cast long regimented shadows to prove there was something in the ancient winter solstice ritual.

Kilmartin Standing Stones

The weather turned mild and with it brought rain. The drive up the north side of Loch Awe, a road new to us, was spectacular but very wet and windy.  We parked up on a forest track, just off the quiet road, high above the loch. It was perfect.

High camp above Loch Awe

It rained and buffeted all night.  Next day we took another new route on a small single track over high steep ground with some quite interesting tight bends. Bessie handled it well and we soon arrived back on the main drag. Next port of call was Seil Island and the Atlantic Bridge, a location I chose for my last run of 2014 and the finale to my Marcothon. We parked by the bridge.  I ran, then showered in the van. A quick spin round the island showed us the parking options were few so we headed back to the mainland and a quiet lay-by.

The bridge over the Atlantic

It was Hogmany and as we lay cosy in bed we watched fireworks from far off townships light the sky to herald in the 2015.

The rain was relentless and our reading material was wearing thin so on the 1st January, after a lazy breakfast, we decided Bessie had passed the winter test and we headed for home.