Scottish Wilds // Scotland // Issue 5
Scottish Wilds // Scotland // Issue 5
Sitting in a slight hollow on the ridgeline to escape the winds, the well-known Five Sisters of Kintail summits were looming high on the other side of the valley, the river winding its way gently through the valley below and out into the stunning Loch Duich in the distance. It had taken more than four hours to ascend to the ridgeline through peaty marsh; battling through soggy heather clumps, blistering heat and crazed marsh flies that resisted any kind of swotting as they crawled up my neck. The effort, made worse by a heavy backpack, had meant I’d already guzzled all my water. With no streams flowing on the way up, there I was sipping down boiled peaty bog water flavoured with tea to desperately hide what I was drinking. I laughed – wondering how the map had so cheekily disguised reality.
There had been no discernable path on the way up to Sgurr a’ Choire Ghairbh (864m) and even along the ridgeline it was very faint, sometimes just disappearing. This is the reality of the Scottish Highlands – it really is a place of few people and vast wilderness areas and that makes it something special. The Scottish West Coast is remote, rugged and brooding; I was already falling in love with the adventure possibilities.
The light was fading as the sun slowly sank; I only had an hour or two before night fell and the plateau peak of Beinn Fhada (1032m) was far along the ridgeline transverse. I had my mountain tent with me if needed though there was no drinking water source high on the plateau and the unpleasant earthy taste of the bog water was still lingering. The plan was to push onto the Camban Bothy, far below on the valley floor for the night, an old shepherd’s hut repurposed as free lodging for weary travellers.
Sitting in a slight hollow on the ridgeline to escape the winds, the well-known Five Sisters of Kintail summits were looming high on the other side of the valley, the river winding its way gently through the valley below and out into the stunning Loch Duich in the distance. It had taken more than four hours to ascend to the ridgeline through peaty marsh; battling through soggy heather clumps, blistering heat and crazed marsh flies that resisted any kind of swotting as they crawled up my neck. The effort, made worse by a heavy backpack, had meant I’d already guzzled all my water. With no streams flowing on the way up, there I was sipping down boiled peaty bog water flavoured with tea to desperately hide what I was drinking. I laughed – wondering how the map had so cheekily disguised reality.
There had been no discernable path on the way up to Sgurr a’ Choire Ghairbh (864m) and even along the ridgeline it was very faint, sometimes just disappearing. This is the reality of the Scottish Highlands – it really is a place of few people and vast wilderness areas and that makes it something special. The Scottish West Coast is remote, rugged and brooding; I was already falling in love with the adventure possibilities.
The light was fading as the sun slowly sank; I only had an hour or two before night fell and the plateau peak of Beinn Fhada (1032m) was far along the ridgeline transverse. I had my mountain tent with me if needed though there was no drinking water source high on the plateau and the unpleasant earthy taste of the bog water was still lingering. The plan was to push onto the Camban Bothy, far below on the valley floor for the night, an old shepherd’s hut repurposed as free lodging for weary travellers.
Up ahead a large herd of wild deer rambled across the plateau, a striking sight that reminded me that these exposed peaks were full of life. The sun had already dropped behind the towering peaks and I had maybe 20 minutes left of usable light; following sheep trails edged into the steep grass cliffs as I descended 700m towards the sanctuary of the bothy. Thighs were burning as the scramble became a rush to reach the safety of the path; reached just as pitch darkness came. An hour following the path in darkness and there up ahead was the welcoming sight of the stone cottage. Fresh water and hot food awaited, maybe even some of the red wine I’d bought. Weary I was; adventures already answered. On the hike back, circling around the back of Beinn Fhada, a golden eagle soared above and alerted by a splash in the river, there within 5 metres, an otter was in the midst of catching a large fish in its mouth; once secured it darted off at surprising speed. Scotland was full of astonishing moments.
The road trip up the west coast was full of stunning walks, wild drives and beautiful wild camping spots. It reminded me of some of the adventures I’d had in New Zealand – I was staggered that there was this stark beauty so close. Small coastal villages with fishing boats moored in harbours provided little breaks to stock up on food, meet locals and feel the sea air. The people were friendly, charming and hardy – I met a man in his late 80’s on one of the 1000m + peaks in the Mamores on a blistering cold day with stormy winds; wearing his tartan kilt and a smile.
As many of the mountains rise straight from the lochs along the coast, their height is often disconcerting, matching any mountains in the European Alps for their beauty and challenge. The cleverly promoted North Coast 500 driving route has bought many new tourists and welcome money to these remote communities; outside of the peak summer months, humans on the trails are surprisingly sparse, outnumbered by the deer. The coastal routes are driving paradise, wild camping is allowed in most wild areas and there’s wonderful Bed & Breakfast places to recuperate if washing in chilled river water has all become too much. Scotland, I will be back for more.
Buy Issue 5: Travelling Iran / Atlas Mountains, Morroco / Utah Hiking, US / Madeira Island / Italy Slow Travel / Scottish West Coast / Peak District / Future Travel essays including an article by a Clinical Psychologist.
Up ahead a large herd of wild deer rambled across the plateau, a striking sight that reminded me that these exposed peaks were full of life. The sun had already dropped behind the towering peaks and I had maybe 20 minutes left of usable light; following sheep trails edged into the steep grass cliffs as I descended 700m towards the sanctuary of the bothy. Thighs were burning as the scramble became a rush to reach the safety of the path; reached just as pitch darkness came. An hour following the path in darkness and there up ahead was the welcoming sight of the stone cottage. Fresh water and hot food awaited, maybe even some of the red wine I’d bought. Weary I was; adventures already answered. On the hike back, circling around the back of Beinn Fhada, a golden eagle soared above and alerted by a splash in the river, there within 5 metres, an otter was in the midst of catching a large fish in its mouth; once secured it darted off at surprising speed. Scotland was full of astonishing moments.
The road trip up the west coast was full of stunning walks, wild drives and beautiful wild camping spots. It reminded me of some of the adventures I’d had in New Zealand – I was staggered that there was this stark beauty so close. Small coastal villages with fishing boats moored in harbours provided little breaks to stock up on food, meet locals and feel the sea air. The people were friendly, charming and hardy – I met a man in his late 80’s on one of the 1000m + peaks in the Mamores on a blistering cold day with stormy winds; wearing his tartan kilt and a smile.
As many of the mountains rise straight from the lochs along the coast, their height is often disconcerting, matching any mountains in the European Alps for their beauty and challenge. The cleverly promoted North Coast 500 driving route has bought many new tourists and welcome money to these remote communities; outside of the peak summer months, humans on the trails are surprisingly sparse, outnumbered by the deer. The coastal routes are driving paradise, wild camping is allowed in most wild areas and there’s wonderful Bed & Breakfast places to recuperate if washing in chilled river water has all become too much. Scotland, I will be back for more.
Buy Issue 5: Travelling Iran / Atlas Mountains, Morroco / Utah Hiking, US / Madeira Island / Italy Slow Travel / Scottish West Coast / Peak District / Future Travel essays including an article by a Clinical Psychologist.
