I apologise for the delay, I have had a hectic few weeks. Firstly, I went away again on another hiking trip (watch this space) and then I have had graduation and all that kerfuffle. But I have promised myself that I will finish all the hiking blog posts before I go to Seville. So here I am, writing late at night. Oh, the Candidates tournament starts tomorrow (Friday) and I am so excited for that. And Blues vs. Crusaders at 08:05 on Saturday morning too. Up the Blues! But yes, here’s the next part. Also, I am still figuring out the email subscription thing. Bear with! Big love
Man’s real home is not a house, but the Road, and that life is a journey to be walked on foot.
Bruce Chatwin, What Am I Doing Here?
Day 04 | Inverie to Kinloch Hourn | 24.5km | 1,260m Ascent
I must have already gotten used to sleeping in a tent or a bothy because my sleep on the camp bed in Inverie was not the best! Truly sleeping like a baby this time (except… without the crying. It’s just a bad saying really).
But we got up and after eating our breakfast, we packed our bags and got ready to go. Excitingly, we went to the drying room and picked up our dry socks and shoes! It was such a good feeling to put on dry socks and shoes again. Although, the socks were a little crusty from all the mud and silt they’d collected over the last three days. After stripping our beds and packing our bags, we left the bunkhouse to continue our adventure. We walked out of Inverie without looking back. I won’t lie, I don’t think either of us will be going back voluntarily. A nice enough town, just not particularly welcoming from our experience.
And so we made our way along the track out of town and before long we passed Glen Meandail on our right, where we had come from the previous day. A short way further along was a monument upon a very round hill on our left, a Celtic cross upright on top which we passed by. Kinda imagine a Christmas Pudding but the Celtic cross had replaced the sprig of holly. That shape. It was probably a man-made hill. Continuing along the track, it slowly increased in steepness and before long we were climbing past Loch an Dubh-Lochain towards the bealach at the end of glen, Mam Barrisdale. Streams tumbled down the sides of the glen and across the track. A couple of these bridges which had been built across these streams were rotten and fallen in. We wanted to keep our feet as dry for as long as possible, so we ended up clambering across these streams, carefully stepping on stones in the middle of the gushing, gurgling water. It was reminiscent of how we navigated our shared bedroom when we were kids – there was so much Lego usually strewn across the floor that we had to carefully pick our way through to get to bed!
We got to the top of the bealach Mam Barrisdale and ate our elevenses. I must confess, this was always a highlight of the morning. Stopping and just chowing down on some Snickers. When we resumed, we dropped down and started heading into Barrisdale. As we were making our way down, a group of old fogies passed us. They all had dogs and weathered, wooden walking sticks and they stopped to have a nice chat with us and ask us “What the butts we were doing walking all that distance?” (paraphrased – my words, not theirs). I must say, the guy who was leading them up the hill had a really nice jumper which I kinda really want. It was like the jumper that Walter Mitty wore in that football scene in that film.
We made it into Barrisdale and decided to have lunch then and there outside the bothy. Now, note, the time at this point was 11:50. So, in my mind, these were Duncan hours for eating lunch (sorry Duncan!)… But then Cam revealed that he ate lunch at work at bang on 12:00! So maybe, this is just the time that working people have lunch… Big thoughts, big revelations. Anyhow, those musings aside, we had a lovely lunch and it was well needed.
We cranked on. After walking through Barrisdale, we turned the corner of the headland and started walking alongside Loch Hourn and Loch Beag. Our destination for the day was at the end of the loch, a place called Kinloch Hourn. But the path alongside the loch was, frankly, the worst. It was muddy and rocky and twisty and windy and up and down and just plain unpleasant to walk along. So, to distract us, I decided to summarise the entire of The Thomas Crown Affair, the 1999 one with Pierce Brosnan. Apparently this was his favourite role he has ever played, more so than being James Bond! It’s just a great film honestly, primarily for the heist nature of it. And the music. We also chatted about how great Vettel was as a person, not just a driver but as an actual human being what with his environmental and pride campaigns. We are both ardent fans of F1 and this season is shaping up quite nicely, although I don’t think Mercedes’ domination will continue this year and they may finally be toppled. I also asked Cam about his upcoming wedding. Very exciting times for him and Tati, I am so looking forward to their wedding next summer!
Having successfully walked along this hellish stretch, we finally hit tarmac again and walked ourselves into Kinloch Hourn. We wanted some hot tea and food and we managed to get to the café ten minutes before it closed. The man who managed it had the most piercing blue eyes and he made us a large pot of tea and we had some of his wife’s lovely carrot cake. And it really was quite lovely! Very moist. Though I must say, the tea room we were in was completely quiet and very, very clean, unlike ourselves – I kinda didn’t want to trapse mud through his clean tea room! It wouldn’t be polite!
The owner must have known that he was situated on the Cape Wrath Trail since he had maps of it all around and there was the original book in the window written by the pioneer of the trail, David Paterson. The idea for the trail was thought up by big Davy in the early 1990s who, once he had finished the West Highland Way, wanted to just keep walking as far north as possible. His original route was not as zig-zag as it is now, but instead went over Munros and just as straight north as possible. Very hardcore. It has since been changed into what it is now where we make our way north by walking along glens and over bealachs, not over the Munros themselves!
The guy who ran this tea room, whilst he seemed distance with us (may have been because we were muddy and came in ten minutes before it closed!), we later learnt that he was actually an incredibly nice and generous guy. We were told a story several days later that back in 2019 (pre-pandemic!), there was so much rain that the camping area in Kinloch Hourn was flooding, and as a result the owner actually came out, ushered all the people camping into his tea room and adjoining B&B and cracked out the beer. It turned from a potentially miserable night into a good old jolly! We also learnt that this guy owned 4,500 acres of land south of Kinloch Hourn… That’s a lot of land!
But, for the time being, it was not a true downpour and so after finishing our tea and cake and, thanking the owner, we left his tea room and headed towards the camping ground. On the map, it was advertised as a campsite, but in reality it was just a field with none of the attached and expected facilities for a campsite. As such, we camped up on the bank beside the river and dived inside the tent as soon as it was up, just as the rain was starting to drizzle down from the overladen clouds. When dinner time came round, I picked my way down the river bank and collected some water. However, I did embarrassingly fall into the water, meaning I went to bed that night with one very wet foot and another just damp foot. Welcome to multi-day hiking on the West Coast of Scotland!
Day 05 | Kinloch Hourn to Dorusduain | 24.5km | 1,020m Ascent
This was the worse night yet (but in the end, the worst night overall… So it all turned out OK in hindsight!). All night it was lashing wind and howling rain (yep, read that again). It was a horrid night and the tent shook for the entirety of it. However, I do believe that rain always sounds worse when inside a tent because the tight outer skin acts as a drum, amplifying the sound, making it seem louder and worse than it actually is! Physics, innit.
When we stepped out in the morning, the rain made us miserable. Cam was all business this morning in order to pack the tent up as efficiently and quickly as possible and we set off from Kinloch Hourn in full waterproofs. There were three other tents pitched where we were which had all obviously arrived after us yesterday. As such, we saw some of our fellow walkers who we’d be interacting with that day:
- There was a white MSR which belonged to a middle-aged German couple who were walking this as their holiday. We never actually interacted with this couple, but we were told later that they would get up late and walk 13 – 14 hours days. Metal.
- The second tent belonged to the guy dressed all in black who had greeted us in Glenfinnan and had an obvious envy of our Harvey Maps.
- The final tent belonged to another couple, Jon and Rachel, who would become our good friends whilst on the trail!
Now, Cam had prepped me for today. Today we would be climbing to the highest point on the CWT, the bealach between the Munros, The Saddle and Sgurr na Sgine. And so we set off from Kinloch Hourn and immediately hit the uphill, hard. We passed Jon and Rachel immediately and came across the guy who we met in Glenfinnan, the one all in black. He seemed lost and so started following us with our Harvey maps. However, the rain was quite heavy and had been all night and as a result, all the rivers were swollen and raging. The guy who was following us had these large Gortex boots and, as a result, he did not want to walk through rivers like we did since his boots would fill up, get soaked through, and then never drain at all resulting in wet and heavy boots for the rest of the adventure. Therefore, when we got to the first river crossing, we quite happily walked through whilst this guy disappeared up the river in search of a narrower place to cross. As a result, and since we never saw him again, we always referred to him from then on as “the guy who disappeared up a river.”
Approaching the bottom of the bealach, the path ran out and disappeared amongst all the peat bogs and boulder fields. We also ran into the two Dutch ladies we met in Sourlies Bothy who were both lost. At this point, the rain was slowing down (well, getting less, gravity stayed the same) and the sun was coming out. We all picked our way through the peat bog, water squelching out of the mud with the colour of well brewed tea, and clambered over the boulder field and after a long long long time climbing, we made it to the top of the bealach. I cannot stress how arduous this was, a full 500m uphill slog for the entire morning through tricky, wet terrain without a path to follow towards the top, but just a point between two mountain sentinels to aim for. Arduous indeed.
Whilst we were climbing the bealach, we saw this red jacket behind us which, instead of slowly climbing up the side of the glen and through the boulder field like we did, instead followed the river and then charged up a practically vertical hill to the top. This was our first true introduction to Jon, and Rachel soon followed after. We had stopped at the top for a small snack (Snickers, of course, greatest chocolate bar ever) and started up again when we saw Jon and Rachel come over the ridge. Cam and Jon both had the same jacket which was an instant connection and we started walking the same way down from the bealach with them. We left the Dutch ladies at the top and we never saw them again on the trail.
We made our way down from the bealach, northbound, along an old dry stone wall chatting with Jon and Rachel. We discovered that they were a couple from Penrith who enjoyed the outdoors and as a result, they were doing the CWT as a small holiday before the big mountain tourism season started in the Lakes. Jon was a super nice guy, chilled and laidback and Rachel complimented him perfectly being equally friendly and positive. Just such a lovely, outdoor couple.
However, Jon and Rachel walked quicker than we did (especially since it was before lunch) and so they zoomed off whilst Cam and I plodded along behind them. We ridge-walked our way down towards the top of Gleann Undalain where we finally sat and had lunch looking down on this beautiful glen, a river working it’s way down and the mottled sides lit up by the sunlight. The Saddle stood guard over this glen and I could smell the Scottish-ness practically.
After lunch, we worked our way down the glen. Again, there was no path, but we knew that we were heading for a specific bend in the river where we would be able to cross safely and where there was a clear, distinct, fast path on the other side. Therefore, as we made our way down the glen in the patchy sunshine, we chatted about our times at school. Specifically, we chatted about the great Mr. Rossiter, the greatest housemaster that we had. Cam even had him as a housemaster whilst he was a prefect, which is honestly the dream. We also somehow managed to find our way onto the topic of baby names. I won’t spoil any of the potential names, but I liked all of Cam’s picks thus far. But hey, look, that’s for the future. This is not some veiled way of revealing anything, just a topic of conversation we found ourselves discussing!
We got to the river crossing and we managed to John Wade our way across and we hit a nice solid track and we started zooming as the day heated up. We even repassed Jon and Rachel! They asked us where we were planning on stopping tonight and we answered with shrugs and pointing to a vague area beyond Morvich on a map, about another 8km down the trail. We continued on as Jon and Rachel took a break. We slowly dried off as we approached the bottom of Gleann Undalain and towards Shiel Bridge under the beautiful sun.
Shiel Bridge was a different tone from what we had had for the last couple days. The way in to the town was along the main road to Skye. There were cars zipping past us and lorries shaking the air in fury as they thundered past! But we made our way around to the Kintail Lodge Hotel where we collapsed onto a picnic bench. Cam phoned Tati whilst I caught up with my friends since 4G was restored to us. We also chomped on some chia seed flapjack bars (which reminds me, I need to find a recipe for them, they are beyond delicious. Wait one whilst I add that to my list of jobs… OK, I’m back). Jon and Rachel repassed us here. They were off to the campsite, just before Morvich. Guess they are more civilised than we are – we were planning on wild camping!
The road to Morvich was dull but had to be done. As Cam kept saying “[with each step] We’re closer than we were!” A good mindset for sure. We passed the campsite where Jon and Rachel had stopped and continued up past Morvich. We came upon an old couple who stopped us and had a proper discussion with us. The old man started with “I see hiking boots are out of fashion” and we found ourselves once again defending our use of trail shoes. But yes, this old man properly quizzed us on our lives, where we were from, what we did, what our future aspirations were… It was quite the grilling! The wife looked kinda uncomfortable I won’t lie and tried multiple times to end the conversation and move on with their walk! After we did manage to extract ourselves, Cam commented that that was such the stereotypical “cantankerous old man” and I couldn’t agree more.
We soon found our wild camping spot and pitched the tent in no time at all, both of us being very well practised at this point in time! We were actually in a place called Dorusduain and we were on the trail towards the Falls of Glomach. An exciting prospect for tomorrow!
Day 06 | Dorusduain to Beinn Dronaig Bothy | 28.0km | 1,160m Ascent
Since we were on the West Coast of Scotland, we once again had a night of lashing rain and howling wind. Less ferocious than the night before, but still a wet, wet night. We packed up camp and started the day, once again in full waterproofs and not in the bestest of moods.
The start of the day was once again a climb up a glen. Are you getting the picture yet? This trail is just a lot of walking up glens and down the other side! It is funny how the mind works though, we realised that this was day 6/12 and that by the end of the day, we would have done half of the trail! And this acted as a motivation for the rest of the day.
We got to the top of the glen to Bealach na Sroine, and then walked across this desolate terrain where it was just a big marsh. However, before long, the gradual noise of a waterfall made itself known and we were eager to see this landmark. The top was so boggy and swampy and our feet were so wet, but we finally made it to the waterfall and Oh My Lans it was something else indeed. A truly spectacular waterfall. You know that Disney Pixar film, Brave, where they mash all of Scottish culture together into one film? Well, there’s this title song in the film with the whole montage of the princess hunting and riding and, specifically, climbing a massive waterfall. Well, this waterfall was incredibly reminiscent of that Brave waterfall which the princess climbs. Loved it. Also, fun fact, that is the only Disney film where the princess doesn’t sing. But I digress.
We spent a while in front of the waterfall. Words and pictures do not do it justice, the power of nature is laid bare in front of your eyes at that point. This waterfall had the largest drop in the entire of the UK, I believe. But we realised that time was ticking and so we reluctantly made our way back up to the path and continued along the top of the gorge that the Falls of Glomach had cut over the last however-long. This path was perilous and, boy oh boy, there were times where one slip and we’d be down at the bottom of the gorge. It was a little uncomfortable and hairy at points. And as such, when we reached the bottom, I think both of our nerves were frayed. Needing a boost of moral, we busted out the emergency Haribos and started chewing on some well needed energy, our mood returning as we exercised our jaw muscles. I know I know, they aren’t strictly vegetarian… But we needed the energy. Don’t crucify me.
We emerged out of the bottom of this gorge and were immediately faced with a track going left to right as we looked, west to east, perpendicular to the way we were facing. Climbing the verge onto this track, we turned to the right (eastbound) and started along it. We passed Loch na Leitreach and crossed a handful of bridges over some rushing rivers. We promised ourselves that at the end of this track, we would have lunch and so we were motivated by a goal – food! Honestly, this is the main motivation in my life nowadays I find, I love food so much.
We got to the end of the glen before too long and we cracked out lunch. We were sitting opposite to an old abandoned shack called Iron Lodge. It was lonely and decrepit and we wondered who would actually want to live in such a remote location in the world. The only company that you would have out here would be a bunch of sheep, some little song birds which you would hear and never see, and of course the occasional bird of prey floating high above you on it’s lofty wings.
Lunch was over too soon and so we wearily shouldered our bags again and climbed onto our feet and made our first wobbly, post-lunch steps before settling into a rhythm. As ever, at the end of a glen there was a bealach that we would have to climb and this glen was no different. We turned left off the road and started heading due north again, and uphill. It is interesting to note that the terrain was ever so slightly starting to change. At the top of this bealach, the terrain was more like small hillocks covered in tough yellow grass rather than the swampy, peaty bogs we had had thus far. Cam was excited for this, meant we were really getting quite far north!
From the top of the bealach, we slowly made our way down and it suddenly hit us. It was incredible, there were absolutely no manmade objects within sight. We were not walking on any paths, there were no old stone walls, no fences, no nothing. And for the first time on the trail, we felt the true isolation of the wild and with it came a slow thrill. I don’t know why the lack of anything made by mankind was so weirdly thrilling. It is funny how the brain works. I would like to say that the lack of anything manmade meant that we were truly alone, and as such, we were truly having an adventure where we were completely reliant on our skills and ability and mindset to keep going and make it through.
Of course, this feeling of true isolation did not last long, for out of nowhere, a wild Bothy appeared (Pokémon battle music starts). This was Maol Bhuidh Bothy, apparently one of the remotest bothies in Scotland. Unlike the ones we had seen before, this was painted white and stood out amongst the landscape, quite bright and cheery really. There were no true, well-trodden paths to it and it was situated at the bottom of three glens, one of which we had just come down from.
We passed by Maol Bhuidh Bothy, having a brief afternoon snack sat out in front, before continuing down to the river, crossing over, and started climbing up and over the flank of Beinn Dronaig. This was marshy and boggy and slow going (the landscape had changed back from the hillocks), not unlike the Dead Marshes that Frodo and Sam pass through!… Although not as dire or depressing. We passed Loch Cruoshie on the west side (no Officer Krupke) and then headed to the eastern end of Loch Calavie. There was a track along the northern edge of Loch Calavie and so, when we had made it onto this track, we were able to start motoring towards our intended destination for the evening, Beinn Dronaig Bothy! No tent tonight, yay!
At this point, on the side of Beinn Dronaig, I had stopped and looked back and across the landscape painted out in front of me and I realised something. In the distance, there was a string of tall, mighty mountains. I pointed these out to Cam and said that “Those must be part of the Loch Mullardoch Circuit!” I wasn’t wrong. Two weeks later, and I would be on top of those Munros, pointing down to where I stood on the side of Beinn Dronaig, saying “That’s the Cape Wrath Trail!”
We made our way down past Loch Calavie and along the full length of Beinn Dronaig itself before we spotted Beinn Dronaig bothy. The last couple of kilometres ate themselves up (invoked the Don’t Stop Walking mindset) and before long we were standing out in front, reaching for the door handle and for the well-deserved rest waiting behind that door. Opening the door, we were confronted with the sight of strangers! The last thing we expected actually, the bothy had looked empty! There were two old men sitting at the common table, each reading a paper! One was a quiet German fellow whilst the other would have easily won a Hugh-Dennis-lookalike competition. There were three sleeping rooms in this bothy and so we grabbed the third and final one and sat down in it, shattered.
Ten minutes passed and we hadn’t moved. And guess who then shows up? Jon and Rachel! They crowded into the bothy and after exchanging happy hellos, they awkwardly asked if they could share our room with us, primarily because it was the biggest room and because there were no rooms left! And so the four of us crowded in and set up our sleeping mats and sleeping bags. Cam had stayed in this bothy before and warned us that there may be rats, and so we all made sure to hang up our food bags, didn’t we Rachel? We didn’t want holes in our food bags now!
The evening was so pleasant. A proper feast. The quiet German fellow got the fire going and we crowded our shoes around in an attempt to dry them off for the next day (we once again had to defend our decision to wear shoes rather than boots to the two old men) and then we dived into dinner. We had our meals and Jon and Rachel had theirs. Jon and Rachel had sent a food box ahead to Kinlochewe where we were aiming for next day, and as such, they needed to get rid of most of their food they had with them now. Therefore, we gorged ourselves on McVities Golden Syrup Cake, rhubarb and custard sweets, lemon sherbets and Hugh Dennis’ crackers and cheese. It was a proper feast, I loved it so much. Especially the cake, I forgot how good they were. In that moment, I swore that as soon as I got back home to St Andrews, I would go to Tesco, buy a golden syrup cake and some snickers and a salad, go to my flat, curl up in bed and feast on these goodies whilst watching Downton Abbey. Don’t judge me. I did exactly that.
Such a pleasant evening though. Jon and Rachel were such a nice couple and we were swapping stories before long and laughing loudly. However, after a handful of hours, I did start feeling tired and as such, my social energy evaporated and I headed off to bed first. They all joined me soon after. Sleepy bye bye time. I was looking forward to the next day for sure.
Today was a momentous day though. I came up with two ground-breaking thoughts:
- To make salt sound fancy, just add a “sea” in front of it. So: csalt.
- We could amalgamate our names. Cam + Al = Camal. Al + Cam = Alchemy. So, together, we turn camals into gold.
You’re welcome.