The mountains are calling and I must go

John Muir

Day 11 | Benmore Estate to Glendhu Bothy | 30.0km | 1,000m Ascent

Luckily, the stream we camped by did not flood in the night. Apparently Cam, Jon and Rachel all spent the night in a restless light sleep and awoke in terror at the slightest sound of rain, worrying in case the river started flooding and they needed to spring into action. Me? I slept through it all. As a result, when we arose in the morning then they all looked a little ragged whilst I was feeling completely fine! The midges still annoyed me though. Cam and I said to each other that “Today was just a formality”, we just needed to follow a single path to our next stop and that was it. Turns out that today was anything but a formality!

We left all together, making our way back onto the track and heading north towards Ben More Assynt. At this point, the path divided in two. The western path headed towards civilisation in the form of Inchnadamph whilst the shorter, eastern path went round the back of Ben More Assynt. Cam and I had scheduled ourselves to be finishing quite soon and we had planned on taking the eastern path, whilst Jon and Rachel were going to Inchnadamph and thus, taking the western path. Therefore, at the split in the road, we bid each other farewell and we sadly took our leave of Jon and Rachel. We didn’t see them again for the remainder of the trip. They gave us a McVities golden syrup cake as a departing present which was so kind of them. Whenever I see golden syrup cakes now, I think of them.

Alone again (naturally), we headed off around the back of Ben More Assynt. The sun was out and it was turning into a quite a pleasant day. We worked our way up the flank of Eagle Rock and soon the path levelled off and we started contouring around Eagle Rock. At this point, we got some 4G back and Cam sent off a good luck message to Tati – she had her penultimate exam today! Although Cam assured me that she was feeling confident so we weren’t too nervous.

We pushed on and we rounded Eagle Rock and passed by the eastern side of Loch Carn nan Conbhairean, a glorified puddle. Ben More Assynt and the sister Munro of Conival were towering away to our left and it was very impressive. We worked our way along the path and eventually through some boulder fields. Jon and Rachel were thinking of climbing both Conival and Ben More Assynt since they didn’t have far to walk today. As such, I was occasionally looking up at the summit of these Munros, hoping to see a glimpse of a red jacket along with a small Hobbit. But I didn’t see them. Sadness strikes.

Eventually we got round to the bottom of Loch Bealach a’Mhadaidh (another glorified puddle). We took a breather here and had a look around. I think we also tucked into our lunch here. The views were stunning, especially of Ben More Assynt. It truly was impressive. I thought it looked like the Amphitheatre of the Gods, it was just truly gobsmacking. Lunch eaten, we pushed on. Cam and I were just chatting about some of the games which we played, both of the board and computer variety. It was quite fun. We made our way down towards the shore of Gorm Loch Mor. I remember that on this descent I knocked a rock which hit my ankle. It didn’t seem much at the time but it started bothering me more towards the end of the day.

This is where today turned from a formality into a challenge. There was no path after walking along the shore of Gorm Loch Mor and we had to make our way cross-country towards Loch an Eircill where we would then pick up another track. But this section where we had to navigate ourselves through a bog turned out to be excessively tricky. Firstly, it was all a peat bog. Secondly, the map was in 15m contours but at this low lying level with so many lumps and bumps over the place, we were missing details in the landscape and as a result, it was difficult to navigate. Thirdly, we were tired.

This concoction of ingredients resulted in us getting lost and heading in the wrong direction. This slowed our progress and we were getting quite annoyed when we kept failing to find Loch an Eircill. It was like Frodo and Sam in Emyn Muil. But instead of days and weeks, we were only added like an hour to the day.

Anyway, in the end we climbed a couple steep slopes, threading our way between cliffs and rock faces (yes, really that steep) and then up and onto the top of hill where we could finally see Loch an Eircill. Hallelujah. At the top of this hill we also saw a herd of sixteen deer! We also gulped down some energy gel. Getting lost never helps the moral.

Anyway, now that we could see Loch an Eircill, we could make out the path on the far side and so we made our way down and across the bottom of the loch and climbed up the verge and onto the track. We even saw a row boat tucked away and hidden! How dramatically romantic.

We could now bomb down this path which led us into Glen Coul and out at the bottom. On the way down this track we ended up talking about all the flatmates that we had lived with before Cam summarised the entire of Outlander to me. I was never going to see it so that’s fine. Now I could talk about it with some vague knowledge though! Glen Coul really was cool though. There were rocky cliffs on either side, making it a rock climbers dream, with several waterfalls splashing down into the glen. The sun was out and so the rocky sides were all sundrenched and sparkling for us.

Before we descended out of the glen, the track dropped away from us and we could see all the way to the horizon where the Atlantic met the sky. We could see the sea! Do you reckon that Atlas fails to keep the earth (Gaia) and the sky (Ouranos) apart at the horizon? This is the thought I had when I saw the horizon. Intriguing idea. We could also see all sorts of islands and headlands and it was a true representation of the West Coast of Scotland!

We tumbled down this track and the horizon disappeared and was replaced with the sea Loch Glencoul and the towering mountains surrounding it. We passed Glencoul Bothy (Daddy Coul) but we were pushing onto the next bothy just down the track, Glendhu Bothy. We were at sea level but we had to make it up and over and round a headland to get there first. Therefore, we started the steep climb up, having just dropped down. How frustrating! This was a single person path at this point and as such, we actually came upon a hiker ahead of us. We gained quickly on him but felt so awkward about saying anything or pushing past that we were stuck behind him at this slower pace for a while. Maybe I’m just too awkward and British, hmmmm…

Eventually he heard us stumbling around behind him and he let us pass. We were heading for the same place and so we promised to see each other there. Cam reckoned from that two minute chat this hiker was ex-military, and Cam turned out to be correct.

We rounded the headland and worked our way along the shore of Loch Glendhu and up into Gleann Dubh… Can you see where the name for Glendhu Bothy comes from? Walking along the shore, I actually got the first whiff of the sea. Must have been all the seaweed (why did the sea blush?) piled up and drying in the sun. We also had to push through a forest and clamber through a boulder field. A tough end to a long day.

We eventually arrived at the bothy. There were two buildings, an old giant abandoned farmhouse with a bunch of ponies, and a tiny little hut beside it. Can you guess which was the bothy? Yep, the little hut. But when we made our way inside, it was actually very pleasant. We took the room immediately on the right and when the hiker turned up half an hour later, he took the room to the left. His name was David and we ended up having dinner with him. He told us many stories about his life, his hiking and biking and all of his opinions. He just didn’t really stop talking. He asked us questions to seem to turn them back around on him. I felt that I could have done identity theft by the end (Identity theft is not a joke Jim! Millions of families suffer every year!). But he was nice. We demolished the cake Jon and Rachel had gifted us while he spoke at us. However, we eventually managed to wrangle ourselves away from him and head to bed. Before doing that though, we needed to dry the tent out so pitched it upstairs to air out for the night. Fun times!

Day 12 | Glendhu Bothy to Strathan Bothy | 43.5km | 1,200m Ascent

Today was a big day. Just look at the distance we had to cover! We had planned for this and as such, we got up an hour earlier to get more time in the day. Almost all of our food was gone and as a result, we were carrying very little weight. So lighter packs, trail legs having set in, tough feet and a positive attitude meant that we were certain of conquering today.

We left the bothy and zipped west along the track on the north side of Loch Glendhu. Before long, we took a right turn and started heading up hill, northwards again. The rain had come on and the clouds were low today. A complete contrast to the previous day! As such we were in our full waterproofs and battling through a stiff breeze. Since we were also climbing up hill then we were also climbing into the cloying, clinging cloud. But it wasn’t all bad, meant we felt fresh and not tired!…

Before long, we had climbed up past Loch an Leathaid Bhuain and were starting to head downhill again, through a young forest and past Lochmore Lodge. We met the A838 road here and started bombing along it. Now, we had a choice. The map was telling us to turn off the road pretty pronto and start walking around Loch Stack (on the east side and then up and round on to the north side). However, we were in a hurry since we had a long way to cover today and there was no marked path on the other side of Loch Stack, only a peat bog to struggle through. As such, we decided to stick to the quiet A838 and head to Lochstack Lodge before turning off and heading due north again.

Therefore, we started the long road walk along the south bank of Loch Stack. We were passed by a couple of really ancient cars and the postie. That’s pretty much it. Before long, we saw the highland retreat of Lochstack Lodge and knew we were about to jump off the road. In front of Lochstack Lodge, there was a tiny little island in the middle of the loch and someone had built a Celtic cross monument on this tiny wee island. It looked very cool, something you’d see in films than in real life.

Anyhow, we crossed in front of Lochstack Lodge and started heading up. If you look at maps of Scotland this far north, you would think half of it was under water! There were so many tiny little lochans and lochs scattered across the (relatively) flat land. As such, we promised that we would have lunch when we got to the closest end of the long pencil thin loch called Loch a’Garbh-bhaid Mor. I think the further north you get, the more Garlic Gaelic the names get.

Along this path from Lochstack Lodge towards the bottom of Loch a’Garbh-bhaid Mor, we came across another hiker! A quick chat with him revealed that he had been inspired to do this challenge of a hike by a viral YouTube video apparently. I have searched and found nothing viral about the Cape Wrath Trail, so I am confused. Maybe he mistook the CWT for something like the WHW. Hmmmm, ponder-some. Anyhow, both Cam and I thought that to do a challenge such as the CWT (when you’re a bit of an outdoor amateur like he was!) because of a video was a bit… naff? Confusing? Like, it can inspire you sure, but it shouldn’t be the sole reason to do something as potentially dangerous and challenging as the CWT.

Anyway, we overtook this guy and then sat and had lunch (before 12:00!) at the bottom of Loch a’Garbh-bhaid Mor. We didn’t see him again and so from then on we knew him as “The guy inspired by the viral video”. We finished up lunch, lightening our packs further before tramping down the side of this pencil thin loch. This path was horrible and sopping wet with mud and streams crossing it every other metre. And it was slightly drizzling. So just wet from every direction. At least the wind had calmed down. Up ahead was the Garbh Allt river which would provide us with the biggest river to cross yet. Since it had been raining for a while then we were expecting this river to be more swollen than usual.

When we arrived at the bank of it, we came across three Scandinavian hikers. There were two youngish guys, both who looked incredibly outdoorsy but in different aspects. Like one was a marathon runner and the other was a hunter. And then the third hiker was a grandpa. An old man. These two youngish men were helping this grandpa across the river and standing downriver of him in case he fell. He inched his way across. Rightfully so as well, the gushing river looked strong enough to be a genuine concern for him. We crossed as soon as those three were across and took off from the opposite bank before they had set off. We were overtaking all sorts of people all of a sudden!

But this encounter with this trio made me come up with an idea for a film. Like, imagine like a scene of an old grandpa in a nursing home, his nasty son only occasionally visiting him. And this hypothetical grandpa just wants to finish one last hike before he kicks the bucket but is too infirm to do so. So this rich, evil son hires two caretakers both from different backgrounds to help this grandpa out. Like, an ex-convict and a scandal-hit stand-up comedian, each with no outdoor experience, to help take care of this grandpa as he attempts to complete this one last trail. I think that premise of a film would be quite good.

Anyway, enough of my whimsical ideas. Cam and I had passed the Scandinavians and were now bombing towards Rhiconich, passing boathouses and crossing bridges until we came upon the town itself, situated on the NC500. When we got to Rhiconich, we got signal so Cam sent a good luck text to Tati for her final exam, and then he started phoning the military (to check no “activities” were running at Cape Wrath), the ferryman (to see if there was a ferry running across the Kyle of Durness) and the bus man (to see if there was going to be a bus to take us from the lighthouse at Cape Wrath to the ferry). As it turned out, the forecast for tomorrow was wind, wind and a touch more wind and so the ferry was not running for passengers. And as a result, no bus was expected. But this wasn’t a problem, just meant we’d have to extend our day tomorrow… Joys.

Whilst Cam was on the phone finding out all the relevant information, a bunch of cyclists arrived at the toilet block in Rhiconich where Cam and I were sitting close by. In their loud, southern English accents they started saying “Ah yes, the famous toilets!” They asked me to take a photo of all of them in front of it and when I made conversation, asking “Where did you come from?” they replied with “Oxford!” I was meaning where they had started today, but whatever. They seemed very… stuck up I’m afraid. Brash, boyish and boorish.

We soon departed from Rhiconich and walked along a horrible road but at least it wasn’t on the NC500. We had to walk for quite some time as well, but we eventually got to where we were heading after an hour or so, London Stores! This was a sweet shop and the last chance to buy anything before the Cape. I bought a bunch of snickers and a whole block of fudge whilst Cam bought himself a cherry cake, chocolate bars and something else very sweet, I forget the name. From London Stores, a roadside shop, you then turn and just start walking into the wilderness to the north. Like, just turn and step off the road. No path to follow really whatsoever!

And this is where our navigational skills once again let us down. There was no path and we would have to find our own way. The flat land did not lend itself to 15m contours and we struggled navigating in the shallow lumpy and bumpy terrain. As a result, we went far too east and went and crossed over the wrong side of Meall Dearg. But it was OK, no path meant that we had to forge our own and (On the Trail we Blaze!) we buzzed along. Well… It was still a bog and windier than an old gentleman’s club, but we were pushed on by the prospect of finishing the day soon!

And before long, we could see our intended target, Strathan Bothy! It’s cherry red door was a point of brightness which we were striving for. There was a river, the Abhainn an T-Straithain, which was deep and ferocious and fast and impeding us. We had to make our way to the only bridge crossing it. The trail we had blazed didn’t quite work out and wasn’t nearly the most efficient. Whoops, oh well, lesson learnt. We crossed this perilous bridge, before clobbering up to the cherry red door of our safe haven for the night. From the bothy, we could see down to the bottom of the glen Strath Shinary (towards the sea) where Sandwood Loch and Sandwood Bay were! A luxurious beach just down the glen from us! How lucky.

We got into Strathan Bothy though and we were the only ones there. For the first time, it was just us left alone in a bothy! We celebrated by tucking into our treats we had bought at London Stores and eating our dinner. Cam ate his cherry cake, in his sleeping bag, straight from the packet! Just chomp chomp chomp and it was all gone. We were quite barbaric, and I think I was on a sugar high and danced and listened to music out loud. But it meant that I had a sugar crash and just fell unconscious when I tried to sleep. So that helped!

Day 13 | Strathan Bothy to Cape Wrath Lighthouse | 16.0km | 520m Ascent

The final day! I was quite sad actually, I didn’t really want to finish this dream… But all dreams end, don’t they? We got up quite early again to allow for time at the lighthouse. Cam had arranged to meet Tati at around 14:30 – 15:00 on the NC500, just across from the Kyle of Durness. He had a whole plan of walking around it since the ferry was not running today. There was a farm which had a bridge across the river which we would walk to from the ferry port. That was the plan, and as a result we needed to get to the lighthouse in time in order to give us as much time as possible for walking around the Kyle and getting to the rendezvous point! Sounds like a mission for today!

Therefore, since we had the worst navigational skills in the world, we decided to make it easy and just walk to the coast, just a couple of kilometres down Strath Shinary, before walking along the coast all the way to the Cape. Cannot be that hard!

Stepping out of the bothy for the final time, my feet got wet straight away. Traditions, eh? (Insert a GIF of Valtteri Bottas). The wind was howling and blowing and there were dark heavy clouds to the south. It was a southerly wind thankfully so it felt like we were being pushed from behind for the entire way! We marched down from Strathan Bothy towards Sandwood Bay. We passed some lonely cows (not of the highland variety disappointingly) and walked along the shore of Sandwood Loch. I would argue it is a lagoon rather than a loch, but I don’t actually know the difference.

We arrived at the bay. The beach was unbroken and wild. Smooth golden sand stretched in both directions and white foam rolled in from the sea. The weary dunes were covered in that tough spiky grass and it seemed like a very lovely, lonely version of paradise. Though I believe paradise is a mindset rather than a place. There was the sea stack, Am Buachaille, situated at the southern end of Sandwood Bay and it stood alone in the sea, separate from anything around it.

We turned off of the beach and headed north. We climbed up a small hill and started walking parallel to the coast. The terrain turned into this very nice heather and gorse landscape and there was no bog for the time being! Praise the Lord. The rain and dark clouds were chasing us so we decided to make haste and see if we could be at the lighthouse before lunch, and before the rain too hopefully!

Following a coastline is always up-and-down work. It is never just flat and smooth unless you’re on a beach or a cliff, and we weren’t on either. Therefore, we had to climb several more small hills before too long. We comforted ourselves with the knowledge that these were the last hills we would have to climb on this trip. Indeed, we even skirted some of them to avoid climbing the extra metre!

We passed two more hikers. This was a Danish couple who had evidently done it with the ultralight mindset. Not my preferred hiking style, but each to their own! We passed them whilst in the military zone and the rain was just starting. They both looked knackered and done in. I referred to them as the “ultralight couple” from then on. But yes, before long, we saw the road which lead to and from the Cape Wrath lighthouse! And as we were walking through this gorse and heather, we saw two minibuses trundling very slowly along this road!

We had been under the impression that the minibuses weren’t running from the lighthouse to the ferry at the Kyle of Durness, but here were two of them going towards the lighthouse! We both got excited and sped up to see if we could catch them before they left the lighthouse again. I think the light bags and eager mindset really helped us along, I can only imagine how fast we were actually walking at the end! We hit the road and walked along it. The rain seemed as if it was about to start up at any moment. The lighthouse itself was hidden by a hill and we would only see it when we were practically there. We marched along this road at a rocket pace and we finally saw the lighthouse! Hurray, we had done it!

A quick selfie to send to the family followed before we walked into the lighthouse compound. The two minibuses were parked there and curiously enough, there were about fifty hikers all milling around as well! We were well confused. Cam went into the Ozone Café to grab us a cup of tea and some food whilst I was tasked to go ask about getting a lift to the ferry port. After speaking to one of the drivers, we were told that we could happily get on the bus to go to the ferry port but the ferry wasn’t running for passengers. We understood this and arranged to still go on one of these buses. A stroke of luck! If there had been no buses, then we would have asked the lighthouse keeper for a lift which (apparently) he was always willing to give.

There was no rush for these buses leaving and as such, I went into the Ozone Café and met Cam there with a cup of tea. After relaying the good news, we gulped down some well needed tea (we are British, best way to celebrate anything is with a cup of tea!) and I personally bought myself some more Snickers to demolish. There was a book to write in for people finishing the CWT and so we left a message for Jon and Rachel in there. They were finishing in a couple days from now. We were also told that the group of fifty hikers had been brought there by the buses and that they were walking south for fifty miles as part of a WWF fundraiser. Very cool. Still confused how they were allowed on the ferry though, if it was closed to passengers… Hmmmmm…

Anyway, before long, the buses were leaving so we got on one. The driver was a guy called Grenkell who had lived the most amazing nomadic life. He was a long distance coach driver as a profession, but he had the most astounding collection of stories from his life. To name some, he had just come back from volunteering in Ukraine where he had seen missiles fly overhead, his brother had played for up-and-coming bands like Blondie and Fleetwood Mac before they made it big, he had a best friend who worked on a nuclear submarines and was 6’5”… The eclectic mix of stories he told us was just amazing. He told us so much of his life and his stories on the hour bus ride but I clung onto every word. Here was someone who had lived life to the fullest. Grenkell had enough money saved for a campervan and enough stories and memories to overfill a Pensieve.

We eventually arrived at the ferry port. We both shook hands and bid adieu to Grenkell, both a little awestruck. We walked up and over the hill which the ferry port was situated at the bottom of, and made our way up the Kyle. We chanced it and tried walking across the river at what looked like one of the shallower points. Our luck held for today and we made it across before we happily strode into the farm and then across the bridge. On the other side of the bridge was a road, part of the NC500. After waiting for thirty minutes or so, during which point thunder and lightning lit up the sky to the south, Tati arrived! She had driven five hours from Glasgow to pick us up and we must have been the most grateful people in the whole world. As I sat in the back seat of their car, music playing quietly and Tati and Cam chatting and catching up, I was so happy to have been able to do this. I was spoiled and fortunate to be able to live a life where I can go off and have the time of my life, hiking for two weeks. I loved every moment of it. Thanks Cam for coming with me.