Day 14 - a shortcut, a lighthouse and my second hug
Sue has her heart set on a lighthouse finish to her tenth Challenge. The shortest route lies through the ground of Kinnaird Castle but we have heard tales of a locked gate and fear the estate is not walker friendly.
"They're lovely," Simon had told us last night, "and quite happy for walkers to pass through. The gates are only to stop cars driving through and they are happy to give the key code to locals. I'll find it for you in the morning." He had then regaled us with a story of trying to visit the old laird's wife when a young GP. He had turned up in error at Brechin's other stately home only to be told by a slightly inebriated laird "Wrong castle, old fruit!" Strangely this is not a problem I have encountered in my fourteen years as a GP in Rotherham.
True to his word, as we head through Brechin, a text arrives with the code. The town has an air of decay. It's buildings hint back as past Victorian affluence but the town is sadly in decline. Paint is peeling from windows and railings, gardens are unkempt and the river bank is littered. The castle however is heralded by a neatly cropped hedge with mown verges followed by a manicured avenue.
Kinnaird Park
As we approach the gatehouse the keeper comes out. He has a broad grin on his face and welcomes us.
"We expected to see more of you Challengers," he says with a hint of disappointment.
We thread our way through the neat estate roads passing many chocolate-box estate cottages, avoiding the big house as we feel scruffy. Eventually we drop back into reality and are deposited onto one of Angus's back lane where a bunch of Challengers are resting under a tree.
M.A. questions our route. "We thought the estate was out of bounds. A sign warned of a locked gate."
"We had the code," I reply and tell the tale of good fortune adding "It's easy enough to hop over anyway. The gatekeeper says it's only there to stop the boy racers and they welcome walkers." There are envious looks on their faces as they have slogged an extra mile along the road.
It's road walking all the way now. Pleasant quiet lanes through farmland so neat I presume it must be linked to the Kinnaird estate. One sign post offers us a dilemma showing Montrose in both direction but only one way will take us to Scurdie Ness.
All roads lead to Montrose
The morning sunshine has given way to grey skies and a cold breeze. We scurry on, feet and legs now weary of the tarmac. We have views over the wonderfully named "Lurgies" to the Montrose basin. The tide is out but the mud flat still smell of salt. On the other side nestle the town of Montrose and Uncle Roger sitting in the Challenge Control room. More than anything in the world at this moment I want to be there.
A small path leads down to the shoreline. It occurs to me that this is technically the east coast. I am tempted to walk the fifty yards, put a boot in the mud and phone for a taxi but I know Sue wants her light house. 
Montrose across the basin
The minor road has a sting in its tail, twenty metres of ascent. Not much in the scale of the Challenge but enough to put Sue's back and hip into spasm and by the time we reach the A934 she's in agony. The road is plagued by fast lorries and we feel exposed despite a narrow pavement. We take a break by the wildlife centre where we are found by two Challengers. They have already finished and arrive by car for a spot of bird watching. Now it's my turn to try and suppress an envious look.
Once off the main road Sue's back seems to ease and our mood improves. We bump into Nik Lawcock and Andy Desmond freshly returned from Scurdie Ness and climbing onto a bus. Another older Challenger raises an eyebrow and seems to feel taking public transport back to the Park Hotel is against the spirit of the Challenge. I disagree but feel it's against the spirit of the Challenge to start an argument.
Ferryden has the feel of a Cornish fishing village, narrow roads threading between small brightly coloured fishing cottages. Then we are back in the open. The lane winds along the coast, fields on one side, rocky shore on the other. Every now and then we glimpse the lighthouse. It makes our pace quicken but for many minutes seems frustratingly unattainable but then a final turn in the road and it's there, magnificently tall and imposing and a wonderful place to finish an exceptional Challenge. We both look up to the top of the tower spellbound, then down to the Challenge Cairn.
Scurdie Ness lighthouse "Congratulations on number ten," I say to Sue and her face breaks into a broad grin.
Sue by the Challenge cairn 
Mike, me, Sue and M.A. Just as we begin to turn out thoughts to the practical matter of a hike back along the lane and queries over the bus time table a familiar figure jogs along the road. David Albon hugs us all and then produces a bottle of Bucksfizz to celebrate Sue's tenth crossing and the offer of a lift. A good finish just became superb. The final act is to throw our west coast pebble into the North Sea then we are whisked to the Park. "It's the Sue and Ali show!" announces Roger as we walk through the door. His eyes seem to sparkle more than ever as I get my second hug. His first had signified the beginning of my Challenge, now this one brings it to an end.