Day 27 Beattock to Abington

Today started off the same as the previous, with a walk along the B7076, however, the scenery had taken a dramatic turn for the good. The previous day, largely on the flat was replaced by developed views of the Southern Lowlands. Once again the constant companions were there, including the electrical pylons which seemed to interfere and ruin every good photo opportunity. There was an addition to the crew today. A river joined in the fight for the space as all progressed up the valley, progressively ascend to the to of Beattoch Summit. The river didn't make it, it veered off to the lh side but all the other plaited there way up. The rail line sometime of the left and the driving under the road and appearing on the right. With little distance covered, there was a new noise appearing, louder than the droning motorway, a kinds "crunch, crunch" noise. What could it be, it was lond before I sussed out the source, suddenly, around my feet appeared mass of snail, very colourful ones as well. It was difficult to see who was the slower, them or me. Glasgow being my target, theirs being "god only knows", as they were heading in all directions. Some making a mad dash across the road between cars. It was then I started my dance, trying to avoid them, to anyone watching this must may been a sight. Some of those dashing snails might have actually made it, as the frequency of cars a this point was once every half hour or so, most of these being police (keeping their eyes on me again, I suspect). This changed later in the day, but with ever frequent waves of motorbikes. It was just after the snails that it happened, today's little event. Well you could say it started over breakfast if root cause is really to be understood. Each day I am accompanied to breakfast with my Sigg bottle. The fruit juice which comes with breakfast is emptied into my bottle, to be drunk in the afternoon. Some place just offer a glass, other help yourself. This morning was the later, so I had a nice healthy quantity stored. Only in my rush to avoid the eyes of the owners, the lid had become cross threaded. It was in this state that it was placed into my rucksack. Climbing higher, the cool air under the dark cloud which never dispensed their rain, made me change from a fleece top to a top with wind resistance. At this point the rucksack, tilted from upright and the contents, nice sticky orange juice was emptied into my rucksack. The commotion, swearing, emptying of bag and pouring the juice out I won't go into in details but the resultant sticky mess was back on my back in 10 minutes. One objective now, get to the Abington Services, were I was staying and wash the lot. All contents inside the rucksack are stowed in waterproof and orange juice proof sacks which helps, but these would need cleaning. So here I am, got in from the 30.8km wall at 15.15, good timing as I'd only had one break. Washing completed, motel room looks like Window Twankies Laundrette (Aladdin), but sticky mess sorted. Lesson learnt, which should have been learnt after the last fluid spillage, (I could work for BP after the amount I've spilt) is check and recheck those fluid tops.