27th Sept 2014
It rained hard that night and the wind
beat against the tent heavily. It was like trying to sleep inside a bass drum
at a rock concert. Eventually though I finally managed to get to sleep waking
early the next morning. It was still windy but at least it wasn't raining and
the sun was shining. Putting on wet socks in the morning is never nice but my
trousers, although they'd been led up beside me in the tent were wetter than
when I'd taken them off the night before. It was not really that good a start
to the day, but at least it wasn't raining. Trying to conserve my gas and not
having anything really to have as breakfast other than rice
, pasta or noodles I grabbed a packet of cereal bars, ate two and put the rest
in my pocket to eat along the way. Packing away the tent was my first challenge
of the day, the wind determined to make folding the fly sheet as difficult as
possible. My goal for the day was simple, make it round the headland and get
into Achiltibuie by the evening ready to tackle the coast round to Ullapool.
Granted there would be absolutely no way I'd get to the post office to pick up
my supplies sponsored by Christopher May before they closed and it was unlikely
that I'd get to the outdoor shop in the town to get gas. That would probably
have to wait til the Monday which meant I'd have a full day of rest to let my
kit dry out and relax my body.
Standing on the rocks
beside the shore I glanced across at the mountain range I'd been unable to see
the day before, it was really quite stunning. I then looked ahead at the hills
and cliffs I was to be walking that day. I could see a narrow trail running
right along the edge for as far as the eye could see. Hoping the day would stay
dry and the landscape would prove a little less challenging I set off with a
purpose. The wind was still very strong and to be safe I walked slightly away
from the cliffs a little worried that a sudden gust could catch my pack and
send me over tge edge. The sea was looking rough and as the waves crashed
against the rocks below they sent a white spray tens of feet into the air. It
was strangely captivating and on occasion I couldn't help myself but stop and
watch. As I progressed along the cliffs I munched on the cereal bars I had in
my pocket. Keeping the calories and sugar fed into my internal combustion engine
to keep me going strong was extremely important and once I'd finished the bars
I started on a packet of butterscotch sweets. I don't think I've ever eaten so
much whilst still shedding weight. The trail I was following was fairly easy to
follow for the most part and only occasionally would it disappear to be
replaced by heather and peat marshes. Gradually as I made my way the hills
became smaller and the heathers replaced by short green grassy patches. But
still the wind hammered down on me.
I'd walked a good few miles
and was making good time but no matter how far I walked the headland seemed to
stretch on before me. Surely it had to turn at some point. The views were
pretty spectacular though and I was able to look across at the craggy hilly
shores across from me that I'd hiked the days before. It was surprising to see
how aggressive it looked from this side looking back.
Suddenly the skies
darkened, I looked up, the sun had been covered by a thick cloud. Then I heard
a patter on my pack as it began to rain. The wind was blowing from the sea and
looking out I could see clear blue skies. Hoping it would be a passing shower I
increased my pace. Gradually the rain eased off as the winds blew the cloud
inland and the sun shone once again. A couple of hours later I found myself
nearing the top of the headland looking across at the lighthouse where I'd met
leigh in her little blue hut, living the dream. There was no heather but
instead luscious green grass and firm solid ground with rocks forcing there way
to the surface. It was the turning point I'd been hoping for. No longer would
the winds be trying to blow me off the cliffs but instead against the slopes
and rocks around the coast. A much safer hike although I'd still have to be
mindful that I didn't get too close to the edge just in case I got caught by an
irratic gust which could potentially throw me off balance with dire results.
Changing direction I could
see another landmass ahead an I hoped it was an island feeling quite eager to
get back to Achiltibuie so I could rest up and find somewhere sheltered to
camp. As I walked closer it became more apparent that I'd found a bay and that
I'd have to walk round to tackle this second headland before heading back
towards the village.
It was easy hiking across
the grass and rocks and the view was amazing, the sun was still shining and at
least I knew I would soon be heading back. Making my way down to the stony bay
I started noticing driftwood strewn about and down at the shore I found myself
nicely sheltered from the wind. I was getting hungry though so I decided to
take a break and try to build a fire. The wood was mostly wet but I was able to
find the odd small piece which was dryish and dead heather to help get the fire
going. It did take a couple of attempts though but eventually I managed to
build a fire and feed it the damp wood, granted it was smoky but at least I'd
be able to boil some water and make up a quick noodle soup.
Whilst taking my lunch
break I sat, sheltered from the wind watching the waters breaking violently
against the rocks. Quite frankly it was better viewing than a majority of the
rubbish you see on the tv these days. Feeling better and ready to tackle the
wind once more I packed my things away and set off up out of the bay and
towards the top of the headland to begin my journey back to Achiltibuie.
Keeping close, but not
dangerously close, to the clifftops I made my way round. It was a lovely
feeling walking over the short grass and beneath the clear blue skies. If the
weather stayed like this during the winter months I think I'd be happy enough.
Ahead of me now I could see the hills and rocky crags getting taller and more
challenging. Heading over a peaty bank the wind picked up and it became a
struggle staying up right. A sudden strong gust then quite literally picked
both me and my pack up, sweeping my feet right from beneath me. I landed on my
belly face down on the firm peat bank. It hurt. Whats more I'd chipped a tooth.
Thankfully it didn't hurt though so I picked myself up, a little shocked and
carried on even more respectful of the shear power of the Highland winds and
glad I wasn't stupid enough to be walking right on the clifftop.
Picking myself up off the
ground I continued with the hike, ahead I could see what looked like a bothy.
There were no roads or paths leading to it and it seemed pretty remote and
sheep were grazing all around. The doors were locked though so I figured it was
probably used as a private summer house or holiday let. I carried on, having to
climb a steep hill along a faint trail to get round the rocky bay below.
Looking out at the sea I could see a small uninhabited island. What a view the
bothy had and what a lovely place to spend the holidays. Eventually I made my
way off the slope and towards the small village of Reiff sat on the edge of a
reasonably sized loch. Climbing through a gap in a large stone wall, over the
the rubble I made my way around the far side of the loch and over what appeared
to be an old stone dyke, much larger than the one I'd seen the day before. At
the other end I walked through a gate and into the village on the tarmac road.
I could now see down the coast. Looking to see if I could get closer to the
shore over the rocks and low clifftops I decided that the wind was probably too
strong and remembered how easily it had thrown me to the ground so I decided in
this case it would probably be too dangerous to attempt to scramble so close to
the water and instead opted to follow the road which for the most part was only
a few yards from the coastline anyway. A few miles along the road I hit a
junction heading right so I followed it around the back of a rather
intimidating hill. On the far side and with no more roafs to follow I headed
along its steep slope through the ferns and onto a small track which took me
back to the road again passed a couple of houses. Achiltibuie was now in sight
and just a few miles away. The wind hadn't let up for a minute so I carried on
following the tarmac reaching the village about an hour or so later. Passing
the village store as I carried on I decided to stop to get a couple of litres
of milk and a box of cereal. I'd have half the box that night before bed and
finish the rest off in the morning.
A little further along I
passed the village hotel. I hadn't had a drink for some hours now and was
feeling a little thirsty so I decided to pop in and treat myself to an orange
juice and lemonade while I caught up on my blog. While I was inside tapping
away at my phone the heavens opened and the wind beat heavily against the windows.
I wasn't looking forward to setting up camp while that was going on and
sincerely hoped it would blow itself out. I didn't stop long at the hotel, as
soon as the rain blew over I got my gear and continued through the village
towards the cafe.
The
cafe was open til nine, serving cheap hot homemade meals. Conscious that I
needed to keep my health up and keep the calorie piling on I dropped in and
ordered their beef lasagne. It was enormous. Struggling to finish it as well as
the huge basket of chips that it came with I found I was the only one left.
Grabbing my kit and chatting to the owner, Leslie, about the challenge and how
I was hoping to walk the coast to Ullapool the following day and wondering
where I was going to sleep that night, she told me that I'd be sheltered if I
stay up in the grounds of the old school house just up on the hill beside the
road. Before I left she insisted that I should pop by in the morning and she'd
send me away well fed and told me the dinner was on her, being the least she
could do. Thanking Leslie for her hospitality I headed up to the old school
house and although the garden was extremely overgrown found a small sheltered
place behind the wall, beneath the trees and surrounded by hedges.
29th Sept 2014
Despite the wind howling around
Achiltibuie I slept soundly in the shelter of the old school house yard. Having
been invited for breakfast at the piping school cafe I was keen to get going.
Getting ready the following morning I noticed sores on my feet and toes,
something I'd have to keep an eye on. My boots and socks were still damp but
bearable I just hoped it would stay dry that day for my hike to Ullapool. The
cafe was just over the road and when I arrived Kathryn greeted me with a
breakfast roll and a large pot of coffee. As I enjoyed my cooked breakfast I
gazed out the window towards the headland. There was a group over at the old
firing range, last used during the first world war. As I watched the group the
wind began to pick up, the windows if the cafe vibrating loudly. Then it began
to rain. Sipping my coffee I could see a break in the clouds and blue skies out
to sea. Deciding to bide my time I waited for the rain to pass. My patience
paid off, the wind blew the rain cloud over yhe village and into the hills behind.
I didn't want to loose the opportunity and said goodbye to my host, giving her
a big hug of appreciation before I left.
The wind had died of quite
considerably as I headed away from the cafe towards the headland, towards the
coastline. Crossing the old firing range I stopped to chat with the budding
archaeologists, quite excited they told me how they thought they may have found
a couple of the gunning positions the soldiers would have used while
practicing. They'd moved on to the old target a stone wall and were taking
measurements, jotting the details onto a piece of paper. Before I'd left the
cafe Kathryn had told me how her father used to be one of the marksmen that
used the range so I thought it prudent to pass on the details.
Leaving the range I set off
over the hill behind and made my way along the coastline. The wind was still
strong but the sun was shining and I felt reasonably happy that I'd make
reasonable time. Looking ahead it was a reasonably flat landscape and nothing
like the mountainous terrain I'd had to make my way through over the previous
days. Following the coastline I quickly made my way round the headland and down
to the bay on the otherside. There was no path to follow so I had to improvise
and keep as close to the edge of the small cliffs as possible. The first couple
of miles were easy but eventually I found myself among the ferns in a
wasteland. The cliffs were becoming more rocky and higher now but the weather
did seem to be improving all the time with light fluffy clouds replacing the
dark miserable rain clouds. The wind had also dropped off to a mere breeze.
About a mile later I
essentially ran out of coastline and had to follow a small gravel track to the
beginning of what would turn out to be, in my opinion, the most dangerous coastal
path of Scotland and possibly great Britain. The gravel track followed the
coast passing a couple of remote houses. The mountain, ben more, dominated the
sky line. The mountain stood right at the edge of the land, a typical pointy
mountain shaped mass of grey rock, and in order to get to Ullapool I'd find
myself traversing its immense slopes well above the sea without safety rails
and in places without a proper path. Walking towards the beginning of the
postie path the wind dropped to a mere breeze which was perfect and just what I
was hoping for. Clearly marking the beginning of the path was a sign stating
that the path was dangerous and that it shouldn't be attempted unless you could
complete it unassisted. A few yards later I found post with a piece of
laminated paper attached to it with a notice informing walkers that a bridge
had been washed away at grid ref xyz which was completely useless information
to me as I wasn't carrying a map. Looking ahead and following the trail with my
eyes it gradually became harder to spot and I wondered where it would take me.
Deep down inside I was hoping for a little adventure and wanted it to pass in
front of the mountain. Setting off the pathway became narrower and narrower
until it was literally a trail running through the fauna. I wasn't to be
disappointed, the trail followed the base of tge mountain over the shore line,
in places it was extremely high and hugged the rocks along the steep slopes, in
places I wondered if I'd be able to shimmy across small ledges, some only a few
inches wide. The damp rock was slippery and one false move would mean a long
fall onto the rocks below. It was extremely hard going with vertical climbs I
wouldn't normally take whilst alone on the edge of a mountain and in some
places I'd loose the trail completely wondering if I was still heading in the
right direction. After a slight reprieve and a reasonable hike it went bad
again. Anyone taking this path should get certificate for finishing alive or
possibly a medal. As I carried on along the route, which every now and then was
waymarked I wondered where the nearest pub was. I really fancied a stiff drink
to settle the nerves.
The light was beginning to
fade and I felt extremely tired. During the walk, climbing the ledges I'd
managed to split the seat of my trousers and bruised my thigh. I was beginning
to wonder how much further I'd have to go before reaching the next village or
head down to the shore. Having to stop occasionally to determine where I
thought the path went I looked out for the waymarks and cairns but gradually I
made my way and ended up on the side of a steep slope looking down at a small
sandy bay. It was getting late now and I'd taken nearly 5 hours to walk the 8
mile path. Dropping down off the slope I could see a small village a few miles
away and decided that I'd stop there for a drink if there was a pub. At the
bottom of the slope I headed over the bay and around the headland to a bridge
to follow a track that ran alongside a small river up to a road. By the time I'd
reached the road though the sun had completely set so I took off my pack to get
my head torch. Slinging the pack onto my back the right shoulder strap detached
itself from the rest of the bag. I would now have to carry all the weight on my
left shoulder, it was quite uncomfortable and I was feeling tired, completely
drained. Reaching the village it became apparent that other than a small cafe
on a campsite which was closed there was no where else to get refreshments. The
wind began to then really pick up. It was like the bora that I'd experienced
once in Croatia. Using only the light from my torch I decided to follow the
road to Ullapool where the loopallu music festival was being held and I was
sure I'd get a drink somewhere and find a place to pitch up for the night.
The
following morning I woke, it was Sunday and the post office was closed. I'd
eventually made it to the town late the night before so I decided to rest my
body and take it easy for the day eager to pick up my supplies Monday morning.
Whilst chilling in my tent I got the sewing kit out and made repairs to my
trousers and the strap on the backpack.
29th Sept 2014
Nicely rested I woke to a calm sunny
morning. Climbing out of the coffin the long grass was wet but looking towards
the sky it looked like the sun was going to stay with me all day, not a cloud
in sight. The weather forecast was completely wrong predicting clouds on Monday
and rain for the rest of the week so I was pleasantly surprised. Not wanting to
waist this fine opportunity to continue the trek I got my gear together and
packed it away. I'd been camping in a wild field just as you enter Ullapool and
hadn't really been disturbed all the time I'd been there, yes you got the odd
dog walker but the dogs in Scotland seem quite used to walkers and campers so
other than a quick sniff around the tent they were extremely well behaved. I
headed out of the field to head down into town to collect my supplies from the
post office. It had been a couple of weeks since I'd finished the last of my
last supply drop and had been surviving on pasta and rice or the odd donated
meal. Seriously needing high calorie meals the boost to moral was enormous
especially after the problems and damage made to my gear. Walking into the post
office I announced who I was, immediately the lady behind the counter picked up
the familiar square box. It was like Christmas had come early. The lady had
been in the coastguards and knew what it meant to collect rations but had never
been on such a long trek as this and wondered how I managed to eat the same
freeze dried food week after week, month after month. The post office was quite
small and there wasn't much room there for me to repack my back so she
suggested that I went across the road to the gallery cafe were there were sofas
with little coffee tables perfect to lay my bag on while sorting through the
meals and stuffing them in to the bottom of the backpack.
I headed over, ordered a
coffee and opened the box to see what jo had sent me this time. There were 7
main meals, 7 breakfasts, 2 flapjackets and this time she'd added a couple of
deserts and a jamaican ginger cake. I like cake, if you cut it in half it's
half the calories which means you can have twice as much!
All packed up I headed down
to the harbour. I had two plans in my head, firstly I could walk the length of
the loch and back up following roads and trails or weather conditions permitted
I could go for a paddle in hoolley and save my self a day hiking. Arriving at
the waters edge I looked out to make my decision. The water was calm, the sun
was out and there was very little wind. Checking Google earth I pinpointed a
place to get out on the otherside, a small beach with a track leading up a
hill. With the decision made I unpacked hoolley and got ready for the crossing.
To begin with I had a
little bit of a problem pushing off from the stony shore line but once on our
way around the harbour it was easy paddling. It did get a little choppy about
half way across the channel but nothing we couldn't handle having made much
rougher crossings in the past. Nearing the little beach across from Ullapool I
assured hoolley we were nearly there and that once again she'd done a great
job. I don't know if it helps but it can't do any harm. Riding the shallow
waves onto the beach I climbed out and pulled hoolley up out of the water.
Another perfect crossing. Once hoolley was safely stowed in my pack I made my
way along the beach and passed an isolated house to the gravel track that lead
up the hill. Reaching the top I came across a small waterfall and decided to
stop on the short green grass beneath a singular tree for a break, custard with
Apple. I couldn't resist it, having a small luxury like this is always good for
the soul.
Feeling quite good and
happy that the repairs I'd made to the pack and my trousers were holding I
turned off the track and began to make my way across the marshes and bogs.
There were no roads or tracks that I could use to make my way back to the coast
and would have to spend the day making my own way there. Unlike the terrain on
the east coast I was now in a rugged and unforgiving wilderness. There really
is no direct route, constantly weaving, hopping, ascending and descending it
was to be a real challenge and at times extremely dangerous. Without a map the
only point of reference I would be able to use was the loch which I knew I had
to keep to my right until I eventually hit the coast once again.
Gradually climbing to my
first crest I was able to look down upon the landscape I'd be negotiating that
day, it was rocky with several steep crinkles and quite deep valleys. It was
surely going to be a challenge. The days were getting shorter too which meant
the distance I could cover would begin to gradually shorten over the coming
months.
The rain that had fallen in
the previous days had made my journey even more challenging, the ground was
wet, the moss extremely slippery and my boots struggled to get a good grip over
the rocks. I headed down from the crest towards the cliffs and along the side
of the loch. It wasn't long before I arrived at the valley, luckily it didn't
have steep walls and wasn't to deep. I then had to climb the other side and
make my way across the bog and up to the next crest. It was difficult to spot a
walkable route down to the next valley, it was steep and extremely slippery. On
my way down a misplaced footing ended with me ripping my trousers once again
and sliding down a few feet in the soft mud. Picking myself up I carried on and
headed to the edge of the valley. This one was really deep, the vertical rock
walls about 50 metres high and no apparent way down. I had to make the decision
to either head down and hope that I'd find a way down or head up the mountain
to the beginning and find a way to cross there. It was a tough decision but deciding
that my chances were better at the top I began to climb following the valley to
its source. About half way up I came upon a well used deer trail and looking
along the valley floor I noticed what appeared to be a deer trail running up a
steep slope on the other side of the valley. In my mind it was worth a gamble
so I began to follow the trail. Again it was extremely muddy and quite often I
found myself ankle deep in the soft mud, my boots getting wetter and wetter. It
wouldn't be long before I'd feel my socks getting damp. Eventually the trail
did indeed lead me to the bottom of the valley and a small stream with boulders
piled up. Managing to balance on the boulders I crossed the stream and began to
climb the slope. It was getting rockier now which in some respects was
preferable to the bog but also added its own challenges as there were more
vertical drops and the terrain was becoming more rugged. Hiking along the
clifftop I followed the loch around until I found myself standing over 100
metres above the water and land below. A shear drop that without a rope I
simply wouldn't be able to get down. I had no choice I'd have to climb the
steep slope following the cliff until I could find a way down. I did pick up
another deer trail but even the deer were heading up the mountain which meant
that they too couldn't find a safe way down and they are able to go places I
couldn't.
After
a long and very tiring climb I eventually saw trails in the ferns and heather
below. They lead to a stream that was being fed by an enormous waterfall
running from the peak of the mountain. Looking ahead I could see a faint trail
leading down from the cliffs so I carried on to see if I could get a better
view of where it started. The sun was now disappearing behind the mountains and
I decided that I'd need to start looking for somewhere to camp before it got
dark. Trying to cross terrain like this would be suicidal in the dark, to be
frank its almost suicidal during the day. Continuing up the slope along the
cliff I found a large shelf covered in heather. It didn't seem to be too soggy
and seemed like a reasonable place to camp with great views of the coast and
ben more, the mountain I'd walked round whilst tackling the postie path a
couple of days earlier. Looking below the ledge I could also see a possible
route down. It was steep and would take a bit of time to negotiate and I'd have
to be extremely careful not to slip or fall, but it was a plausible route. I'd
packed a litre of tap water with me before I'd left Ullapool and knowing I
could get water from the stream below the following morning I decided to pitch
up and make a coffee and rehydrate a meal. Sitting on my pack enjoying sweet n
sour chicken lushness I watched as the sun set. I'd timed it perfectly and as
long as it was dry the following morning would have breakfast at the bottom of
the cliffs.
1st Oct 2014
Sleeping in the shadow of the mountain
pitched up on a ledge with my own personal climbing wall behind and a great
view of the opposite shore and the postie path I woke around 9am. The shadow
the cliffs cast over my camp site made me believe it was much earlier. Without
water I knew I wouldn't be able to make breakfast until I'd descended from the
ledge to lower ground. Standing on the edge looking down I could see a waterfall
and a stream I just needed to find a safe route to get me there. I packed up
and heading to my left towards a steep slope I made my way slowly from ledge to
ledge each time stopping to weigh up my options and choose the safest way I
could. Once at the bottom I looked back at where I'd camped. It was quite a way
above me and the climb down had taken the best part of 30 minutes and I was
looking forward to a nice smooth oats and raspberry breakfast washed down with
a lovely coffee. I made my way to the stream and boiled up the water to
rehydrate the freeze dried meal. Whilst scooping the food into my mouth I
pondered about collecting some water to take with me but figured I'd probably
come upon numerous water sources that day and decided to keep my pack light. It
was cloudy overhead but the sun did manage to cast light upon the scenery
around me.
With my hunger satisfied I
gathered myself together and climbed up from the stream to the top of a small
crest. Gaining the higher ground would allow me to take in the obstacles ahead
and potentially plan a route that would take me the mile or so to reach the
coast opposite the mouth of the loch. Between the solid rocks that made this
baron landscape interesting and unique were wet marshy peat bogs and small trickly
channels of water. It was a tough place to hike with small hills and jutting
rocks often forming smsll cliffs that couldn't be seen until you were right on
top of them. Eventually though I made it across having negotiated several small
valleys. It's difficult to describe the challenges I faced and how steep some
of the banks and slopes were but it was tiring and took me a fair amount of
time to cross. Stood on the edge of a high cliff I looked down at a small cove,
the waters were calm and surrounded by boulders. Looking to my left I needed to
work out a way down so that I could make my way to the coastline opposite ben
more. With no particular plan in mind I followed the clifftop towards the
mountains trying to come up with some sort of feasible plan. I was thinking
that maybe the only way down was by firstly going up. I'd almost made my mind
up when I noticed deer tracks merging in to one. The trail, looking heavily
used like a deer carriageway or highway, appeared to run in front of the
mountain and along side a sheer rock cliffface. I couldn't see exactly where it
went though but figured that taking so much traffic it must lead somewhere and
if I was lucky it would lead down. I couldn't imagine that a trail so often
used wouldn't take me anywhere other than down and all the signs seemed to
confirm my thoughts. I'd followed trails like this before and generally they'd
lead me to either water or places to negotiate valleys ir rivers.
Feeling reasonably
confident I decided to follow the trail and if I began to feel it wasn't going
the right direction I would follow my initial plan of hiking up the mountain
and making my way round that way. Initially the trail seemed fine, it began to
descend almost immediately through the ferns and across the heathers. After a
while I was able to get a clearer view of the bay and could see a waterfall
running down from the mountain into the water below. The trail was getting
narrower and closer to the cliffs. Not being afraid of heights and fairly sure
the trail could support my weight I carried on. Coming across a low rocky climb
I lent over and scrambled my way up using my hands and knees, as I did, the
repair holding my left zippoff became unstitched . It was a bit exciting being
so narrow but I was still sure that the trail would ultimately take me where
I'd wanted to end up. Continuing to descend I followed the trail, at points
having to dig my boots in to the soft peat to ensure a good footing and using
my hands to hold onto the rock face spreading the load of my pack so that not
all my weight was on the fragile ledge beneath me.
Yes, it was a little scary
and yes it got the adrenaline pumping but I didn't think it could possibly get
any worse than that and continued on my way. Then I found myself confronted
with a huge decision, to turn back and risk the trail I'd just followed knowing
that I'd now disturbed the soft peat and possibly made the trail dangerous for
me to now cross or keep going across a section of the trail that was most
definitely dangerous and would in no way be able to support my weight. I looked
ahead and could see that once past this obstacle the trail would finally head
down, the route clearly visible, cut into the peat through the heathers with no
cliffs just an extremely steep slope. All I had to do was cross a 10 foot
tragedy waiting to happen with nowhere to place my feet and no rocks to hold
onto with my hands. It was possibly the worse case scenario I could have hoped
for. I decided to shoot some video to let people know what had happened should
something go wrong. Looking at the cliff face I found some good places to hold
but it would mean climbing solo up a few feet from the trail, traversing the
cliff and then somehow dropping back down to the trail the otherside without
falling to my death. I began the climb but getting so far up I recalled a
moment I'd had about four years previous when I'd decided to go solo climbing
in mallorca and having a ledge collapse on me while I was climbing it. Back
then I fell about 12 feet onto another small ledge and if it hadn't been for
the small day sack I'd been carrying on my back and the fact I landed onto a
small bush I would have probably fallen another 25 feet onto the rocks below.
This time I was very much higher and instead of a small daysack I was carrying
a 25kg backpack. If I made one mistake then it would be my last. With my
breathing becoming erratic and my hands scrambling for anything to hokd onto I
realised I was beginning to panic. That could have been fatal so I paused on
the side of the cliff found two good hand holds and ensured my feet were
securely based on something solid. Taking a deep breath and saying to myself
"how do you get yourself into such situations" I slowed my breathing
down and glanced down at the trail below me. I then slowly and methodically
moved my hands into a better position with my feet following. Safely back on
the trail I headed down and keeping my attention firmly fixed on the rocks abd
boulders I had to climb over and down until I reached the bottom. Heading
across the bay to the stream I turned to look at the cliffs I'd just trekked.
At first it was hard to locate the place where the uk coastal trek nearly ended
but once I spotted it I found it hard to believe how high I was when I made the
traverse above the deer trail. Taking a moment to get my breath back, collect a
litre of water and reflecting on the challenge, I made my way up out of the bay
and up into the mountains to get a better view of the coastline I now had to
tackle. As I left the bay I continued to look back at the cliffs still in
disbelief, three seals had now swam in, their heads bobbing in the waters
watching me.
Reaching the headland I
could see that simply walking along it was far from achievable without an
abseil rope to get me down closer. Without knowing what was further along I
figured I'd probably either need someone to belay me or balls the size of
planets should I need to later make a climb up a cliff. Deciding I'd definitely
had more than enough excitement for the day I began to make the climb up the
mountain picking my way carefully. Thick clouds had begun to blow in and it
began to lightly rain. Seeking a little shelter behind a small cliffface I
decided to make up the last desert jo had packed into my supplies. The rain
wasn't to lift off all day from that moment on, in fact it got worse and a
thick mist descended and pretty much obscured my view which made planning a
route across the mountainous terrain damn near impossible. Unable to see
anything ahead and completely loosing sight of the coast I continued on in the
direction I believed I should follow. Having to make decisions as to either go
high or go low without any point of reference or even knowing where I would end
up was difficult to say the least. Walking through the marshes and long wet
grasses meant both my trousers and boots were getting soaking. Making things
even worse was the fact that both the repairs to my trousers had become
unstiched, both the leg and the seat. After a few hours of gradual progress the
mist began to lift revealing a view of the headland I was to tackle the
following day. Stopping at a small waterfall I filled my hydration bladder up
just in case I didn't come across any other water sources in the low lands I
was now heading for.
Looking
back as I headed towards the shores of the coastline I couldn't pinpoint the
route I'd taken. The landscape looking much more formidable from below than
when I'd been amongst it. I walked along the stones and boulders of the beach,
the sea gently brushing the shore. At the end of the beach I had to climb a
grassy slope to avoid a small cliff and to find somewhere to sleep. From the
mountains above, once the mist cleared, I'd seen a small woodland that looked
like a good place to find shelter and maybe dead wood to make a fire and dry
out my trousers, socks and boots. Reaching the top of the bank though I found a
small cottage. It looked abandoned so I went to see if I could salvage anything
to help me maje a fire. I peered through the window and could see two car seats
and some old tins of food. The door was unlocked and I began to wonder if I'd
found another bothy. Entering in to the building it was very apparent that
someone had lived there but had left some years before. There was dried peat
and firewood though so I decided to get a fire going and warm myself up.
Looking around the bothy I discovered a dear john letter from a young lady to
her boyfriend saying how she loved being there but that sge needed to sort
herself out. I'm guessing that soon after the building was completely
abandoned. Dragging the duvet off the matress in the rafters sleeping space I
laid it out on the floor to sit on while I made up a meal of chicken korma and
repaired my trousers once again. Deciding that this was as good an improvised
shelter as I could possibly hope for I settled in for the night, feeding the
fire to warn tge place up hoping for at least dry socks in the morning.
2nd Oct 2014
The bothy was lovely and warm all
night, the peat blocks glowing red and created a homely feel. I'd had quite a
nice rest there and happy that I'd managed to fix my trousers again, put them
on and made breakfast. The sun was shining through the window at the far end of
the bothy and I hoped it would continue for the rest of the day. Without a tent
to collapse packing up and getting ready took no time at all. My socks, that
I'd strung above the fire had also dried out nicely which meant I wad already
off to a good start that day. My boots were still wet inside but you can't have
everything, begrudgingly I put them on and laced them up. Grabbing my pack I
left through the door, bolting it behind me. It was quite a nice quite place
and although it could have done with a womans touch I could see myself living
in such a place as unusual as it may sound. To the left of the bothy was a
small narrow track leading up a slight hill towards the woods I'd seen from the
mountain the day before. Water was running down it like a small stream so I
side stepped the verges to try and allow my boots the chance to dry out a
little in the sun. The walk through the woods was quite pleasant and emerging
on the other side I saw a few more odd little houses dotted about, some stone
and others wooden, they all looked homely and I wondered to myself what would
drive somebody to live in such a remote part of Scotland. There was no road and
as far as I could imagine the nearest shops were miles away. I doubt they even
had plumbed water or gas or possibly even msin electricity. Just beyond the
houses I came across tge ruins of an old village, there wasn't much left other
than a few stone walls and the odd fireplace still standing.
The track began to leaf up
the hill away from the loch which was my que to begin my day off road and set
off across the marshes and bogs down to the cliffs and shoreline to get back to
the coast. Because of the recent downpours of rain the marshes were extremely
wet with small streams channeling themselves between clumps of peat and rock.
After walking for about an hour I made my way over a small crest and could see
a patch of lush green grass with some ruins on a jutting section of land. A
small track that looked well maintained lead down to it. At the bottom of the
lane I spotted a small stone structure built into the side of a rock face.
Water was cascading either side forming several small waterfalls. As I
approached the stone structure I started to guess at what it might be used for
or concealing. Perhaps it was the entrance to an underground cave or mine,
maybe some kind of rock dwelling. I went over to peer through the doorway. It
was a shed. Inside was quite small, shed sized to be exact and there were a
couple of tools laying up against one of the walls. It was a disappointing find
but it had got me quite excited for a moment.
Leaving the stone shed I
went down to the shore to investigate the ruins I'd seen from the hill. Looking
around at what was left of the stone building I concluded it would have once
been quite a reasonable sized house with many rooms leading off each other. As
ruins go and comparing it to the many I'd seen during my trip it was quite
impressive and picturing it in my head I imagined a small family living there,
the peace and tranquillity of its remote position with easy access to fish from
the waters and sheep feeding on the grass. The sun was still shining but the
wind had begun to pick up. I set off away from the ruins along the stony
shores. It was easy to see why the house had been built where it was, there
were plenty of raw materials that could have been used to extend or repair the
property without having to go far. Ahead of me on the far side of the bay was a
small mountain, there didn't seem to be any easy way up which would allow me to
follow the cliffs round but I did see tge opportunity to climb a small section
which would take me to a ridge that followed the mountains bottom round. It was
about 15 metres high and the rugged rocks made for an easy climb with plenty of
hand holds and foot holds. Once on the ledge I picked up a trail, it ran close
to the edge and was well used making it easy to follow. Eventually it took me
to a cliff overlooking a small bay. In the middle of the bay was a single seal,
well its head anyway. It wasn't moving just looking skywards. I assumed the
seal was basking in the sun and being sheltered from the wind by the mountain
behind it was simply relaxing. The trail lead me down to the bay, very steep
and squelchy with mud and wet peat. At points it was a little struggle but at
the bottom I found a rock to take a break on and sat watching the seal. It was
at least 10 minutes before the seal even knew I was there and when he realised
he simply turned around facing me and went back to basking. Picking up my pack
to continue on my journey I noticed that the left strap on my pack had begun to
detach with only a few threads still holding it in place. There wasn't anything
I could do about it there at that time so I carefully put it on my back and
began to look for a way out of the bay. Just behind me was a very steep muddy
slope covered with ferns. Using my hands and knees and digging my boots into
the mud I managed to pull myself to the top. Walking away from the slope I
picked up another trail, again it ran close to the cliff edge and headed off
towards the headland at the mouth of the loch. Looking tomy right I could see a
lighthouse and looking ahead and to my left a rather prominent mountain. The
trail appeared to head out to tge coastline and around the front of the
mountain. Seeing sheep grazing below me at the foot of the mountain I decided
to set off. The wind was really blowing now and walking against it was tough, a
single extremely strong gust took my cap off sending it flying towards the
cliffs. I retrieved it and decided to put it in my pocket as I really didn't
want to loose another hat especially with winter on its way.
Keeping close to the
mountain and a good 50 meters up from the ground below me a began traversing
the rocks, stopping every now and then to take shelter from the wind and
waiting for it to ease off a little before continuing. Getting closer to the
sheep they spotted me and began to walk off in the direction of the coast.
Watching where they went I decided to follow. Afterall they'd have to be
completely thick to corner themselves so I guessed they'd be taking a route
that would lead them round to somewhere of some safety, a small plain or field
maybe. Sure enough they leaf me to another well worn trail which ran along the
steep mountain side well above the coast. About 8 inches wide it was just wide
enough to place one foot in front of the other ans using my hands to balance I
slowly went in the direction of the sheep. The wind was still blowing hard but
at least it was now blowing me towards the mountain and not off it. Continuing
along the trail I found myself confronted with not one but two rock slides
where part of the mountain had collapsed. Taking a deep breath and moving quite
hastily I crossed. The trail was slowly becoming narrower, higher and
considerably more dangerous. Its moments like this when I wished I had a gopro
to film the action but not wanting to stop and take a photo with my phone I
carried on. I then came across a section of the trail that made me question my
own sanity. It was literally a ledge smaller than a very long bookshelf. I
wasn't even sure if there was anything below holding it up. Two words
immediately sprung to mind, and they weren't "no way" or "oh
dear". Clearing my mind of any thoughts or fear I took a deep breath and
very hastily made my way along. Taking a photo or video was tge absolute last
thing I was going to do. After that the rest of the trail was reasonable in
comparison although still very narrow. Beginning to descend and now on the
other side of the mountain I could see a stony bay, an old wooden building on
its shores and decided that I would stop for a bite to eat and a coffee.
Getting down to the bay was tricky and I had to take small steps as I went,
nearing the bottom I had to make a small jump from a ledge which wasn't too
high. That's when the left strap on my backpack finally gave up and broke off.
The weight instantly transfered to my right shoulder, which I'd repaired a few
days before, and a pain shot down from my shoulder through my spine. Thankfully
the repair seemed to have held. I took the pack off to take a look. It would
need repairing and possibly reinforcing both straps somehow. Adjusting my hip
belt and right shoulder strap I put the pack on and made my way around the bay
towards the building.
As I approached the
building I noticed that the doors were missing and it was in a state of disrepair.
None the less it would still provide shelter from the wind. I was now feeling
particularly hungry so stopped and decided to have my evening meal early,
spaghetti bolognese. Granted that would mean I would have nothing to eat that
night but I needed my strength to help me carry my damaged pack and to make it
all the way round the next section of coast. Leaving the building feeling well
fed I headed up over the next headland unable to bypass the rocks at the end of
the bay. On the far side I came across a long stony beach. Heading down to the
beach I came across a waterfall and not knowing if I'd find another decided to
stop to fill up my water bottle and hydration bladder. Then set off along the
beach, the stony shore difficult to walk over and my pack hurting my shoulder
now with all the weight shifted over to one side. As I neared the end of the
beach rocks pretuded from below like giant hurdles. Making my way up them was
reasonably simple, but coming down the other sides were quite difficult, the pack
kept shifting and caused me problems with balance. Climbing over the third
hurdle I came across an old battered shed. The roof was mostly missing and
windows blown in. Inside was a few fishing items and dayglo buoys. I wasn't in
much of a mood to look any further and continued to begin the climb up onto the
next headland which would take me in front of another mountainous landscape
many meters above the coastline. Spotting another sheep trail I decided to
follow it along the extremely steep slopes at the base of the mountain. Again
the trail was narrow and I began to appreciate the nerves of the animals that
had used it time after time. About half way along the mountain the land leveled
off and I was able to easily walk over to a crest to see what I would have to
contend with next. Standing on top of the crest I could see a rain cloud moving
parallel to me, a curtain of rain falling below it. I then felt a few
raindrops. I thought it would pass in front of me but it was just my luck I'd
be caught on the very edge. I ducked down behind the crest to get a little
shelter. The rain passed over in quite a short space of time, about 5 minutes
but during that time I'd got soaked.
Climbing from behind my
temporary shelter which protected me a little I continued to follow the sheep
trail along the front of the cliffs. It eventually lead me up to the top where
I found a strange white structure, not exactly a building. It had aerials on
top and solar panels on one side. Not sure what it was for I carried on following
the clifftop until I could see a stony beach below. Climbing down to the beach
was easy. The beach was quite small with short grass along the shore and a
lovely waterfall behind running down from the cliffs. I was tempted to stop the
night, light a fire and once again dry my socks which by now were once again
wet. It was still early though and I had at least a couple of hours of light
left so I continued. At the other end of the beach I found my self cut off at
the other end. With no place else to go but up I found a reasonable place with
good hand and feet placements and clambered to the top. From there I could see
the following days challenge, the view was magnificent, mountains towering
either side of the loch. A small spit leading out from my side of the loch
looking like a potential place to launch hoolley and cross to the otherside.
The water was choppy though and the wind too strong to risk a crossing that
night but I hoped the following day tge conditions would improve.
Deciding that I would wait
it out that night I started to look for somewhere to camp. Down below me was
another stony beach and I could see what was left of an old ruin. Granted it
was just a fireplace but there was plenty of driftwood around and a small patch
of grass I could set up camp on. I headed down to a got the tent pitched before
collecting wood for a fire that night.
The following morning I
woke to the wind pounding down on my tent. I opened up the flysheet to check
the weather. The waters were still choppy and the wind too strong to paddle
against. It was 7:30 and the sun was just rising the sky coloured red,orang,
pink and purple. Unfortunately my phone battery was critically low and wasn't
able to take a photo. I decided to put my solar panels out and wait a couple of
hours for it to charge a bit and to see if the weather would change. After
waiting a while I had breakfast, feeling particularly hungry and slowly packed
up. The charger didn't have a very good charge and my phone was now completely
dead. I set off down the stony beach and towards the spit hoping the wind would
die down allowing me to cross the loch. It didn't. Because I'd used all the
power of my phone and solar charger the night before uploading photos and
replying to peoples comments so I wasn't able to pull up Google earth to see
what lay in store for me or where I could find a place to get a booster charge.
Once round the spit I came across a house with a gravel track leading to it.
Thinking the track could take me around the loch I decided to follow it. As I
made my way along the track I passed a couple more houses and eventually what
looked like a community hall. Outside was a picnic bench so I sat down out of
the wind shaded by a small woodland. Looking across at the hall I noticed the
windows were left open. I peered across at the door to one side and wondered if
there was anyone inside. Deciding it had to be worth looking I went over and
tried the door, to my surprise it opened. Going inside the hall I called out to
see if anyone was about. There was no reply. Surely this had happened for a
reason and seeing a couple of sockets on the wall opposite me I went back to
the picnic table and collected my pack.
Inside
the hall I took out my usb chargers and immediately began charging both the
phone and power monkey battery pack. While I waited and still feeling hungry I
decided to make a mug of coffee and munch on one of the flapjacks jo had sent
with the last supply box. After an hour or so the phone was nearly fully
charged and the power monkey battery had about 45% although I'm not sure I
believe it but hopefully it would charge the phone up that night. Outside the
wind was still strong but at least it was dry and the sun was shining. Leaving
the hall I carried on following the track until it narrowed to a small path.
Blackberries grew along side so at every availability I picked the ripe ones
and ate them as I walked. Slowly the patg lead me up and along the front of the
mountain I had seen the evening before but unlike the few days before the path
was a good 4 feet wide and I didn't need to carefully balance myself. As I made
my way along the path my pack began feeling uncomfortable and unbalanced. Aches
and pains slowly emerged in my shoulders and back, I didn't want to quit but I
did wonder how long it would be before I gave myself a serious injury or worse
still a permanent injury. The further I walked the more painful it became and I
found myself having to stop more regularly to readjust or take short breaks.
About half way I stopped and took off my pack and sat down for a proper break,
I checked Google earth to see where I could pick up my next supplies from now
knowing that I wouldn't be crossing the loch as I had hoped too. It appeared
that a smal village called Laide was the closest place I could find with a shop
and from my experience thus far was most probably the closest place that would
also have a post office. Sending jo a quick text to let her know I was about
4-5 days from the village I asked her to send the supplies Paul Dawkins had
sponsored. Needing to get a good days hike in I grabbed my pack and continued
up the path. Eventually though I made it around the mountain and down towards a
small car park. I was feeling hungry once again, looking at the time on my
phone it was now 5pm. Sheltering from the wind behind a camper van I decided to
have an early dinner and check Google earth to see where I would need to head
next. I only had three hours maximum before the light would fade into darkness.
Looking at the satellite images I had a choice, I could either take the long
route following the road or I could try and find what looked like it could
possibly be an old track that would take me to the end of the loch. The images
were blurred and I couldn't be sure if it was even there or even if it was a
track for that matter. Not fancying the long hike following the road I decided
to head for the mountain track instead. I knew there was the possibility that I
would have to hike across the mountains in the dark which meant I could
potentially seriously injure myself or potentially get lost but it was a risk I
was willing to take. Following the coast I set off for the mountains passing an
old derelict bothy as I went. The light was already beginning to fade and it
looked like a storm was brewing. Sheltered behind the bothy I put on my wet
weather gear just to be sure and began my ascent up the side of the mountain.
Reaching the top I found it hard to see. The sun had set and the light was
dimming quickly. There was no sign of the track, maybe I'd made a mistake and
unable to see any landmarks I needed to be sure which direction I was going to
head in. Not giving up I decided to walk along as well as across the marshes
ahead in the hope I would cross the track at some point. It was about half an
hour later that I spotted what looked like it could be the track I was looking
for. I headed over and sure enough it certainly resembled a track of sorts. Now
with only the light from my head torch I began to follow the white rocks lining
the track until quite suddenly the track ended. Looking around I spotted a
sheep trail which appeared to continue on from where the track stopped and with
nothing better as far as a plan went I decided to follow it. Thankfully my
instincts to follow the trail paid off and I found myself at the edge of a
forest I'd noted when looking at the satellite images. From here I knew I could
follow the road along until it would eventually lead me to a bridge crossing a
river that flowed into the loch. Heading along the road I began to look for
somewhere to camp up. I didn't expect to find the bridge that night but was
happy I knew I was heading in the right direction. A couple of miles late I
found myself at a junction. There was a nice piece of grass just to one side,
so pitching the tent I decided to tackle the rest of my journey back to the
coast the following day. Once again I was feeling hungry and although I knew it
was probably a bad idea I decided to hydrate one of the three breakfasts I had
left.
