A Cape Wrath Tale: The travelling stone - Part 6

My hiking friends started to realise that this time they might just make it all the way to Cape Wrath. Although they did not dare hope too much. On such a hike things can take a turn for the worst at any time. A storm coming in when high up in the mountains, a stupid stumble or an impassable river. Nonetheless, hope is a fickle beast. Even when you’re not sure to hang on to it, it lurks around the corner. Also I started to hope. The most North Westerly point of Scotland! Nothing between me and the North pole apart from an endless sea of water. Sandwood Bay. Cape Wrath. All names I had heard before from hikers passing through Cona Glen. Never did I dare imagine that I would make it there one day!

The next day came early with a swift departure as the midges had not yet subsided. Hurry, hurry! Eat breakfast while walking around. Drink tea like your life depends on it. Put the midge nets back on. A rather funny situation for me as midges have no appetite for a little white rock, but even I started to realise that these tiny monsters were becoming a little much. Throughout the next few kilometres the path got rougher till it eventually turned into a muddy single track. The sun caressed the mountains at the other side of the valley. A far away promise that today was going to be a beautiful day. One little tree standing strong between the rocky edges, bathing in sunlight. The river twisting and turning along the valley. After two rather easy walking days, this was the perfect change of scenery. Back to the realm of mother nature. Around the mountain and across the river. The river was moving fast, rushing its way downhill. The sudden fear that had taken hold of my carrier lady during the first river crossing of the trip emerged once again. Traces of doubt appeared in her movements. Should she cross here? Or should she go down to the valley where the river was wide and moved slow as if taking its time to enjoy the scenery? She and her loving companion had a look around and decided that they found a safe place to cross. I had full confidence in their decision. She took of her shoes and trousers, picked me up with her backpack, placed her shoes around her neck, took hold of her hiking poles and took her first steps towards the water. Her partner checked if she was sure that she wanted to go first. She was sure. She wanted to get it over with. Her toes entered the water. The river bedding was green and slippery. The water was cold. One foot after the next, hiking poles providing the extra support to get across. He followed in her footsteps. Hop, shoes back on and uphill. No path for this section, but the overall direction was clear. Aim for the little dent in between the peaks. A passage towards a world of wonders! The endless waters of Loch Assynt with mountains scattered along its shore. The sea hiding at the horizon. We were still very high up and it was hard to believe that Ichnadamph was just a mere few kilometres away. Not surprisingly, the descent was steep. After another pathless section winding in between islands of peat, an amazing path was spotted in a gorge like valley. Getting in the valley required quite the clamber, but once the river was crossed they were assured of a safe and easy passage towards Ichnadamph. As my lovely carrier lady said, this path is probably the best single track path of the whole Cape Wrath trail!

Around 2pm they arrived at the youth hostel where they decided to spend the night and take their last shower before Cape Wrath. After dropping me and their backpacks off in the dormitory I didn’t see them much. The longest they came into view was when they brought a heap of snacks into the room to feed them throughout the coming days. The smiles on their faces however said it all. We were ready for the last leg of the journey!

The day ahead was one for the fairy tales. If you haven’t hiked from Ichnadamph to Glencoul, you have missed something on your bucket list. Going up towards Glas Bheinn and Bheinn Uidhe the path was easy. Yes, it was uphill, but compared to what I’ve seen my carrier lady and her companion hike so far, it was a piece of cake. The only thing slowing them down was the time required to take in the endless views. Having said goodbye to the vast beauty at this side of the mountain pass, they started their rocky climb to the highest point of the day. A curiosity started to rise, would the views at the other side manage to beat the ones here? Probably not. It can’t get much better, right? They turned out to be incomprehensibly wrong! Crossing the pass between Glas Bheinn and Bheinn Uidhe, a world of wonder opened up in front of them. Vast mountains, soothing lochs and tumbling waterfalls as far as the eye could see. Slight mist lingering about and sunlight playing with the drops of water decorating the sky. The wind was harsh and cut into their faces, but nonetheless they decided to sit down at the top of the pass to have a snack and drink some water. Not because they were very hungry or thirsty, but because the views were worth every bit of cold. With the wind roaring around them they hid away in their jackets, but even hidden below their hoods, there was no mistaking the joyful twinkle in their eyes. They took in the surroundings as if their life depended on it. Moments like these don’t come along often in life.

As the cold became a little much, they continued their journey. Zigzagging along a steep, rocky path they made their way downhill. Leaving such a magical place behind is always hard. Although this place made the world look perfect, they knew that they wouldn’t be returning any day soon. That’s life on the road. Even when you instantly fall in love with a place, the journey goes on. The rocky path turned into a downhill mud slide towards the penultimate potentially difficult river crossing of the trip. Luckily, the water was forgiving and kind, making the river crossing fast and easy. Now all that was left to do was follow the river downstream towards Loch Beag. Sounds easy, right? Well, wrong again. Walking along lochs and rivers never comes easy. Rather than walking, it felt like moving from one bog to the next. In all this remoteness we did however get to see Britain’s highest waterfall, Eas a’Chual Aluinn. My dear carrier lady kept saying that once they reached the loch there should be a path, but this wasn’t the case. Or at least not along Loch Beach. Only for the last leg of the journey, towards Glencoul bothy, a grassy 4×4 track appeared, starting from nothing and ending in nothing the next day.

Glencoul bothy was no more special than other bothies along the trail, but the location makes it one of the best bothies along the route (together with Maol-bhuidhe and Shenavall). At the far end of the loch we could see the civilised world, but it felt more like a surreal observation than a reality. Golden eagles soaring up high, sheep frolicking around and little waves rolling onto the shores. This place could have been mistaken for what some people call heaven.

A group of kayakers led by Will from ‘Kayak Summer Isles’ came by for the night. Although they made my dear carrier lady and her partner mightily jealous of their tasty looking food and grand three-course dinner, they also offered amazing stories with a cup of wine. To top things off, they were offered fresh avocados and a proper Bialetti coffee in the morning. What’s better than fresh vegetables and proper coffee when on a long hike without them!

Like so many nights before, my carrier lady went to bed with me and her backpack at her side, just in case a herd of wild mice would have a party that night. I could say that it was a quiet night, but I would be lying. Throughout the night the wind picked up until the dark was transformed into a storm with rain hitting onto the roof and wind dragging the front door wide open. My carrier lady and her partner woke up, not sure of what was going on, but soon realised that they had to exit their cosy beds to stop the door from flapping about. Mercifully, the next morning was calm and peaceful. The air was cold, but the sun announced yet another beautiful day. Climbing out of the valley towards Glendhu, the views were breathtaking. The sun broke through the clouds and lit up the distant Eas a’Chual Aluinn waterfall as if a million tiny diamonds were dancing their way downhill. The golden eagles soared above, screeching their endless song and the beaches of Loch Glencoul coloured mighty orange with seaweed lining its shores. The water sparkled in the sun and the mountains basked in a cloudy embrace.