8 - 10 November

8th November

During the night I found myself struggling to keep warm even with all the layers I had myself covered in. The wind kept pounding the tarp and pulled out one of the pegs holding a corner down. I repegged and hid once more until dawn.

That morning it was still cold and the rain was still falling from the sky. I sat there dreading putting on my ice cold and wet boots. After making myself a tea and rehydrating my breakfast I packed up under the cover of the tarp and begrudgingly inserted my warm dry feet and socks into my boots and lacing them up. With most things stowed away in my pack I ventured out into the rain and dismantled my shelter. My fingers numb from the cold struggled to untie the simple knots I'd fumbled with the night before.

The rain then began to rain ease off and I stood on the river bank looking at the river. It was still high and flowing more quickly than the night before. There was absolutely no way I would be able to cross safely no matter what plan I managed to devise.

Figuring the track leading to the farm must cross the river at some point further inland and that the river would possibly narrow I headed off planning a route back to the coast as I hiked looking across at the landscape opposite. About half a mile later the banks on the far side of the river steepened. This could cause an issue with navigating my way back to the coast line and successfully negotiating the knoydart peninsula. With only a daysack I decided the scramble was possible but with the slope wet and slippery and me lugging a huge and heavy rucksack, with daysack full to bursting point and attached to the back the chances of successfully making it up and over was probably not very high. In fact I concluded that it would probably be dangerous.

It then occurred to me that I hadn't had any dreams recently. I wasn't sure what that meant but was sure it must be of some significance.

I decided to keep following the track and began to look at the possibility of maybe climbing up and over the mountains a little further down. The gradient of the slopes there was much less but the hight was much greater. The risk it seemed was too high to take. As I walked I kept looking back and up, my thirst for the thrill of adventure drying my ambitions to conquer the peninsula.

Reaching the bridge I began to cross over the river stopping half way and leaning on the rail looking back along the river as it twisted its way to the sea. I'd been beaten by something so trivial yet so powerful. I tried to convince myself that I should at least give it a go but something inside kept saying to me "it was too dangerous, it could go horribly wrong". I still had around 3000 miles to go before I reached the finish line in Southampton, this little challenge would have to wait. My  decision had been made and I decided it was final. Convincing myself I'd one day come back to hike the whole peninsula from start to finish I leant back off the rail which I was slouched over and continued to follow the track. I was hoping I would find a junction further along that would take me to one of the other coastal communities on knoydart but sadly a few short miles later I found myself heading down from the hills to Inverie.

The sun had now come out and the weather greatly improved.  The track I was following eventually joined the tarmac road that followed the shore and passed through inverie with its pier, pub, post office,  shop and tea room. The pub was closed but the tea room was open. I went over to console myself with a moca and pork and apple sauce sub.

While I was happily munching away on my sub and enjoying the taste of chocolate flavoured caffeine I chatted to hannah, the young lady who'd served me. The village had planned to hold a bonfire and fireworks night down on the beach adjacent to where I was planning to stay. I hadn't expected to see any fireworks during my challenge and had resigned myself to the fact that I would probably miss most of the seasonal celebrations enjoyed by those living normal lives.

As I left the tea rooms to seek a place to camp hannah handed me two strawberry jam filled scones and wished me good luck for the rest of my trip. I headed off following the only road in or out of Inverie, and then to be honest it doesn't actually lead anywhere other than to the dwellings of knoydarts inhabitants, towards the beach. Across the bay I could see a small wood which seemed a perfect place to settle in and not too far from the beach, mere 10 - 15 minute walk. To get to the woods I had to cross a bridge over the river that splits the small bay from the beach and followed a track and across the shingle bed. It didn't take long to find a lovely spot on the shore covered in grass.

Stringing some cord between two trees I erected my home laying the tarp over the top and pegging it down at the back using the guy ropes and two halves of the paddle shaft to hold the front corners in place. Using my knife I fashioned a short pole with a Y shaped end to hold the middle up. Satisfied that my shelter was built I set about gathering wood for a small fire I planned to have that evening. With everything organised and the light fading I decided to head back to the beach to join in the festivities.

I hadn't accounted for the tide. By the time I'd finished setting up camp the tide had come in and I found myself cut off from Inverie. I wouldn't be going anywhere that night. A little disappointed I turned back and lit my own bonfire, all be it a small one. Most would call it a campfire but for me on that particular night it was a bonfire. Soon after I'd got the wood lit and flames roaring the fire on the beach was also lit and the fizz pop of fireworks lit up the sky. I had a perfect view across the bay and although I wasn't nibbling on toffee apples and waving sparklers around I still enjoyed the spectacle.

9th November

It was a clear night but as I lay wrapped up in my sleeping bag I felt my feet getting numb. My legs were also feeling the chill so I grabbed a pair of dry socks and put a second pair of trousers on. I was in and out of slumber that night, rubbing myself trying to keep warm.

The following morning as with the night before the skies were clear. I climbed out from under the tarp and looked across the bay towards Inverie and its mountainous backdrop. The view was simply gorgeous. It was chilly with a fresh winters nip in the air. I had breakfast and packed up the camp. My boots had been set by the fire during the festivities and although they weren't wet or even damp lets say they were moist. As long as the weather stayed like this though I was sure they would soon dry out.

With everything stowed away in my pack I headed down to the shore of the bay, the tide was receding,  and followed the stony shore around the headland until I could go no further.  I then made my way up onto the grass and fern covered slopes. It wasn't all plain sailing though, although I couldn't make my way round on the shore I still had to climb one of those blasted deer proof fences.

Frost was covering the dead fern in a thin layer of white. I looked down at my boots, they too were covered in white frost where I'd scuffed them through the undergrowth. Frostbite was going to be my latest concern and I began to wonder when I would first notice ice. I was on the sheltered side of the headland though and as I made my way round in to the warmth and light of the sun, not a single cloud to be seen, I knew it was going to be a lovely day. All my worries momentarily vanishing.

I could now see the otherside of loch inver. The water was calm and almost ripple free. My plan for the day was to try and make my way to the far end of the loch and stay the night at a bothy there but on such a good day I decided that it was feasible to paddle across the loch and save myself several days hiking, after all that was the point of bringing the pack raft. Standing on the shore line I looked across,  it was quite a distance and I could just make out a single house on the other side.  There appeared to be a small stony beach in front, a perfect place to cross.

I unpacked hoolley on the shore,  inflated her and went through the usual process of securing my pack on the front and placing the daysack in the flat bottomed hull. Climbing in my boots once again caught up on the spray deck brace and I had to wriggle my way in and lower myself on to the inflated seat. All set to go I realised the tide had gone out further and I was grounded on some large submerged stones. Using my paddle to push whilst bouncing up and down I eventually managed to free myself and with one last shove began floating in the calm waters of the loch.

Although it was a fair distance to paddle across I managed it with some ease. Nearing the other side I looked down below into the clear emerald green waters to watch the underwater world pass by. Star fish clung to the rocks and little fish swam around undisturbed by the large black pack raft gliding over above.

Looking along the loch towards the mouth, just beyond a fish farm and not too far away I could see another small stony beach. I looked back at the hills in front and above me. Deciding that an extended paddle would save me having to make my way along the steep slopes which would have been quite intense and hard going I pulled in close to the shore line and continued paddling. The sun was still shining and I counted only three small light fluffy clouds hanging dormant in the sky.

I was feeling quite relaxed as I came up on the shore which petruded out from the land and not along it. I didn't realise at the time it was a small spit and that during a high tide it was mostly covered by the water of the loch, and by now the tide was coming in.

Once I packed hoolley away and gathered myself together I headed up the stony shore to discover that I had only a short time to get across to a small bay a few meters away. Thankfully there was just enough room between the shore and the water crossing over a layer of wet and slippery kelp to allow me a simple transition between the two.

Away from my landing point and stood on the shore of the small bay I had only one exit strategy, to head up the steep bank of grass that lay in front of me. I had no idea what I would find at the top but I felt sure I'd be able to begin my hike from there. Clambering up I had to dig my feet into the mud and haul myself up until I reached the top.

I was now confronted with a series of physically demanding challenges.  The mountainous terrain continued far beyond what I could see. It looked like it was going to be a hard day ahead. The slopes were steep, very steep. They were covered with long grasses, dead ferns and heather. Dotted along the slopes were sheer rock outcrops and faces as well as trees clinging on to their own existence. I had no doubt in my mind I was going to be tested physically as well as mentally.  It was going to dangerous and exhausting and I was going to have to pick my routes carefully as well as keeping an eye out for somewhere to stop the night later that evening.  With only about four hours of light now left speed and haste was a priority.

I set off down the other side of the slope away from the bay and descended towards the foot of the next climb. It had to be several hundred meters high and at an extremely severe incline. I would have to traverse a little and head from one natural channel to another avoiding near vertical scrambles and rock faces. As I approached I caught a glimpse of another bay out of the corner of my eye. I stopped and reevaluated my options.  If I could get down to the bay therr could be a possible route along the rocks of the shore that separated the grassy slopes from the sea. It wouldn't necessarily be any safer, in fact I was sure it would be just as challenging, but it would possibly be quicker and potentially provide me with more suitable places to hold up for the night.

I went over to a small mound, closer to the coast to get a birds eye view of what was below me and hoping to get a glimpse of the coastline ahead. Stood at the top I gazed down, it seemed a reasonably effortless walk down to the bay with only one small rock face to climb down. Looking ahead and with the tide still a way out the rocky coastline appeared reasonably easy to scramble over the large boulders with good foot and hand placements clearly visible on the more vertical faces. It was at least worth taking a closer look so I decided to head down to the bay. If at any point I felt this new route was unachievable I would always be able to turn around and head back.

Reaching the bay I went over to the waters edge on the far side. I could see a good quarter of a mile before my view was obscured by an outcrop and I couldn't make out with a hundred percent certainty if it was passable. There was only one way of knowing for certain and that was to head over and find out. Now under no circumstances would I ever suggest or recommend anyone attempt such a thing but I felt I was able to make my there and if I found myself stuck I would be able to turn about and head back.

I set off hopping from boulder to boulder until I came to a section of solid rock covered in little limpets.  I then clambered over them which was easier than the boulders. The further I got from the bay I began to plan a secondary escape route. Should I really need to I could always get hoolley out, the water was extremely calm and occasionally I would pass small coves where I'd easily be able to launch from.

And so it continued, I made quick work of the first quarter of a mile to the outcrop.  It was jagged and the only way round was a short climb up and over. Stood on the top I was able to see the next quarter of a mile or so. Again like the first it would mean the majority of my time would be Clambering over rocks several meters above the water and again my view was blocked by another outcrop. I couldn't see if I would be able to get round or if I'd have to climb over so I set off towards the unknown.

Arriving at the next obstacle it was very apparent that a traverse around the rock face would be a dangerous move with no guarantee that when I got to the other side I'd be able to continue. Climbing up and over was also going to be a slight issue as it was a simple climb up, there was however a narrow crevasse just back from the waters edge just wide enough for me to squeeze into and potentially climb up to the top. I still had no idea what I would find on the far side or even if I would be able to climb back down in order to continue. It was as high as a small bungalow and a meter and a half wide.  On this side the jagged rocks provided good solid hand and foot holds although only an inch or two deep. Near the top of the crevasse the holds became less appealing on the side I was climbing as the gap narrowed but on the adjacent wall I found reasonable placements and made my way to the top. The last four feet were a bit of a scramble I'll admit and less gracious than the climb. Thankfully there was nobody there to see it.

At the top the outcrop was covered in heathers. Behind me was a steep slope also covered in heathers. It may have been possible to climb but I didn't fancy it. Ahead and below the coast line continued and again some distance ahead I could see another outcrop which obscured my views of the coast beyond. I now needed to find a way down.

Below me was another crevasse. It was narrower but there seemed to again be reasonable placements for my hands and feet. Climbing down is always harder than climbing up. I began by positioning myself at the top and lowered my left foot down to a small inch wide shelf a foot below me. Taking a good hand hold and keeping three points of contact I lowered my right foot. A few feet below was a small lip which I managed to rest my left foot onto with a place for my right a few inches lower. It was a tight squeeze and the daysack clipped to the back of my pack scraped down the rock wall behind me. To my left I could see a good place to move my left arm too and began to reach out. As I turned my body to extend my reach I found myself wedged, the gap was so tight I was unable to move, not even a millimetre. I brought my hand back I began to wonder what I would do next. I was so tightly wedged into the crevasse that I could no longer see what was below me or where I could put my feet. There was no other places to set my hands to allow me to traverse slightly to get grip of the hold I had hoped to use and climbing back up would also be a bit of a challenge. I was in an awkward place.

Bowing my head I scanned the rock wall below trying to make out a different route down. I could just make out an inch wide ledge that spanned about a foot and a half. Pulling myself into the wall I began sliding myself slowly down towards the ledge hoping my boot would take purchase. At first I missed it and out of view I had to feel around using my feet to find it. With my insole taking the full weight of the pack and me I moved my hands, one at a time to new grips below and then followed on with my right foot, placing it next to my left but using the toes slightly turned in to grip. I was still a couple of meters up but in this new position I felt happier and was able to move slightly more than when I was wedged at the top. Now able to make the traverse I'd wanted I easily found good placements for both my hands and feet and slowly descended back to the boulders and rocks of the shore.

Without looking back and driven on by my determination to clear as much of the coast as possible before the light went leaving me in an awkward position I continued on traversing rocks and skipping across boulders. Sometimes they were slippery and other times I had good grip. Reaching the next outcrop I managed to climb up and over without incident although the slope near the top was steep and water running off the cliffs above had left patches of slippery green slime. These I tried to avoid at all costs as I would easily slip straight off and into the cold waters below at times having to overstretch in order to bypass.

On the other side I found myself with a sheer drop to high to jump from and no place to climb down. Petruding out in to the water the rock began to lower to about a metre. I went over and could see submerged just below the surface a couple of boulders. A small groove just wide enough to put my fingers in had been worn in to the rocks surface. My feet were already wet from climbing into and out of hoolley so I decided I'd lower myself down to the boulder, the water level about ankle deep, and use the other submerged boulders to get back to the shore.

So far the day had been quite testing and I was beginning to feel hungry and tired. The sun was also getting lower in the sky which meant I was running out of time to find somewhere to camp up for the night. I set off, without a thought about the squidgeing in my boots, and made my along the rocks and boulders and around the headland ahead that too was blocking my view of the coast.

Now I had found a small bay,it was stony with very little grass and a few scattered trees growing out from the slopes. It wasn't a good place to stop so I carried on around the next outcrop and into another larger bay. Again this bay was covered in stones and boulders again with a few trees growing out from the slopes and again not suitable to camp in.

The sun was inching its way towards the horizon and my time was getting more limited. Finding somewhere to camp was becoming more urgent. again I traversed the rocks around a small outcrop and into the next bay. It was tiny, only about 30-40 meters wide. The tide was now a fair way in and I would no longer be able to make my way across the rocks. Turning inland I made my way up and ovet moss covered boulders and through the trees now becoming more dense. Making my way over a small ridge I passed a cave which was just large enough for me to fit into and lay outstretched in. It would have been a perfect shelter for the night had the floor not been soaking wet from the water dripping off the rocks above. I continued on and down into the bay below. On The far side were extremely steep and high rising fern covered slopes. The rocky face petruding out into the sea too steep to traverse. This was the end of the line that day. In order to go any further I would have no choice but to climb.

The bay was quite wide, there were a few trees and patches of grass. Large boulders as big as a mini were scattered around making the bay feel quite hostile.  A stream ran down from the mountain at the back which thankfully meant I had drinking water readily available. I just needed to find somewhere to sleep.

I put my pack down and went to explore my new home. On the side of the bay I had come in on the ground was very stony. On the far side I found a small patch of grass that would be just big enough to pitch the coffin on and against the slopes I found three very small caves, one just large enough to crawl into but again the floor was sodden and muddy.

Heading back to my collect my pack I decided to unpack my tent and pitch up on the small piece of grass. It was quite exposed there but it was the best I could find. I then began gathering wood to make a fire, the air was getting cold and I get ferl a little nip. Hoping to gather drift wood I went down to the shore but came back with only a couple of small sticks. I then scouted around the bay but again only found a few small branches. It simply wasn't worth getting a small fire built so I left the pitiful pile of wood and retired to the coffin to hydrate the evening meal.

While I lay in my sleeping bag munching my dinner it occurred to me that I was most probably the firsy person to ever conquer that particular stretch of coastline. I was quite pleased and a warming feeling in my gut comforted me. Without much else to do except wait for daybreak and keep myself warm throughout the night I tried to get to sleep hoping for good weather the following morning.

10th November

It turned out to be quite a mild night and I slept well waking early the next morning. It was most certainly warmer than the night before in Inverie. Before opening the outer fly I hydrated my smooth oats and raspberries and made myself a hot drink. While waiting for the water to boil I wondered what I would see when I popped my head out. Would the weather be as fine as the day before or would the skies be blackened by dark clouds. It certainly didn't seem windy where I was but there were gentle gusts blowing against the tent.

Having finished up my morning meal and slurped the last droplet from my mug I unzipped the fly, put my boots on and ventured out. There was a slight breeze and I could see  a few white clouds in the sky, the water wasn't as calm as the day before but on the whole I was quite content with the conditions. It wasn't cold and it certainly wasn't raining. You could say it was a typical winters morning.

Stood away from the tent I looked out from the bay. Although I had planned to make a huge climb that morning out of the bay it occurred to me that maybe it would be possible to use hoolley in the open water to navigate close to the shore around to a bay further along. I took out my phone and pulled up Google earth to check the satellite images.

About five bays along from me there was a small bay that had a house or cottage built in it with what looked like a track or single road leading to it. It was a couple of miles away at a guess but seemed close enough to risk a sea paddle especially with the reasonable conditions of the weather and water.

I packed away my kit and stowed my tent before heading down to the shore. Putting my pack down I walked over to the water which was gently lapping at the stones and gazed out to check again the condition of the water. It wasn't too bad at all and I'd certainly paddled in much worse,  thinking back to my crossing from the isle of sheppey. I then turned to take another look at the climb I'd mentally prepared myself for. It was high, and I mean very high. It was steep too, incredibly steep. It was also looking less appealing.

With my mind made up I unpacked hoolley once again and prepared myself for the paddle. As I got hoolley inflated, spray deck brace fitted and secured my pack I thought back to the almost fateful paddle I'd attemted near Cromarty which nearly ended in disaster. The conditions where similar then until I paddled out and began to make my way round the headland. I put the experience to the back of my mind as I wriggled into my seat and attached the spray deck to the brace. The small waves were gradually picking hoolley up and nudging her out to sea, I was still wrestling with the elastic of the spray deck and remembered an incident that happened near the beginning of the trek when I'd attempted to paddle to Harwich but whilst struggling with fitting the spray deck had been capsized by a rogue wave in a very similar situation. I had to stay calm and focussed though so again I put the thought out of my mind and continued to ensure everything was right before setting off.

Happy that I was ready and hoolley was also ready I pushed off from the shore and began my paddle into open waters. It was all quite relaxing and my anguish quite unnecessary. There was no noticeable current to fight and as I paddled away from the bay and around the outcrop I looked up at the mountain range I'd earlier considered climbing. I'd made the right decision, the slopes on the other side were extremely steep and steeper than I had imagined. The rocky shoreline was also untrekkable. Continuing to paddle along I felt sure I'd made the right decision.

Slowly passed a few small bays and began to look out for a large rock I'd noticed in the satellite images. It was my marker to begin looking for the bay with the house. I spoke to hoolley assuring her that all was well and we'd be safely on land soon enough. Reading this you might think I was mad, but hoolley has got feelings too and theres no harm in having a calming chat with her while I paddled. Gradually the water became more choppy but it was still nowhere near as choppy as I'd paddled before so I still felt confident that this little voyage would finish incident free.

Eventually I came to the point where I was expecting to see the large rock a short way from the coastline. There was no rock but strange ripples and a slushing of small circular waves indicated the position of where I thought the rock might be submerged, engulfed by the high tide. I knew from this point the bay would be a short distance away. Once again I spoke to hoolley,  just to let her know.

Sure enough about ten minutes later I could see the bay and as we paddled round the rocks obscuring my full view I could see the chimneys of the house. Looking up at the hillside to the right of the bay I was also sure I could see the track leading away and off to mallaig.

As drew closer to the shores of the bay I could hear the welcoming bark of a dog. I was to be landing near civilisation once again. I was particularly looking forward to arriving in Mallaig because I as to be collecting a parcel sent to the post office from daryl, a lovely chap I'd met Halloween evening. He was a little concerned that my two season sleeping bag would be totally inadequate for the Scottish winter months, an opinion I completely agreed with.

Landing on the stony beach at the bay a couple of miles from the town I packed hoolley away and took a short break to refect on the adventurous days leading up to this point. It had been tough, challenging and surprisingly rewarding. I'd not made all my goals and felt sad about not making it all the way round knoydart but at the same time I was happy I'd managed the stretch from Inverie to mallaig incident free, sort of. Yes there were little happenstances that got the heart going and yes it wasn't all plain sailing,  except for maybe the paddling which was, although without a sail, plain sailing. The weather had held off over the past few days and I was nearing a good sized town the first since I'd passed through kyle near tge isle of skye. All in all I would say I was chuffed.

With the reflection out of the way I grabbed my kit and made my way up the track from the house and followed it around the hill overlooking the sea below.  You simply couldn't get any closer if you'd tried. Eventually the track brought me to a small village and joined a tarmac road. As I walked through the village I saw a sign indicating the start of a circular walk to and from mallaig. It was long before I could see the towns harbour and across on the other side a row of houses and shops. The harbour was quite busy and it looked like a new restaurant or pub was being built overlooking the waters.

Arriving in the town I followed tge main street to the rnli lifeboat house to pop in and say hi. I was greeted by the lady whos name I can't remember and who, not surprisingly wasn't expecting me. When I told her what I was doing and mentioned a few highlights of my journey she immediately went to see if she could find any  of the  crew members. She returned unsuccessful in her search but said the door was open and invited me go in,make myself a coffee and wait till somebody turned up.

It was nice to sit down in a proper chair and it wasn't long before the stand in coxswain turned up and we began to chat. He was a chatty fella with quips about the trip and making jokes about my efforts. The light hearted banter eventually led him to offer me the couch for the night as well as the use of the stations shower facilities, which I must say are always welcomed.

Leaving my gear at the station I headed back into town to locate the post office. Sure enough there was a huge parcel waiting for me. As I signed for it I thought to myself I do hope thats not the size of the sleeping bag, it'll never fit into my pack. I also needed some more gas before setting off the following morning,  luckily the post office was at the back of a spar shop and on the way out I noticed they sold gas. I grabbed a large canister and a few other supplies before heading back to my temporary accommodation for the night.

Arriving back at the station I opened up the parcel. Sure enough inside was a four season sleeping bag claiming to be comfortable at -22°c, which I sincerely hoped I wouldn't have to test, and few others bits. Food. A couple of chorizo sausages, ginger cake,  custard and tortellini. I took my old sleeping bag out and lay it on the couch and stuffed the new one in. It took a bit of jumbling with the rest of my kit but I managed to make everything fit. This would be the last night I would be spending sleeping in my old two season sleeping bag.  It had got me this far and for some strange feeling I felt I was going to miss it.