A Cape Wrath Tale: The travelling stone - Part 8

They woke up at 6am. Because of the cold they decided to have breakfast in the tent one last time. By 8pm they had packed up their gear and headed across the beach towards the cliffs between them and their final destination, the Cape Wrath lighthouse they had been watching last night. The outflow of Sandwood loch was wider and deeper than expected, but with the necessary care and balancing skills it could be crossed without too much ado. Together we went upwards, towards a magnificent view well worth the climb. For those few who might read this before completing the trail, there are quite some splendid camping spots after this first climb. You might get company from the little white ewe wandering about, but that’s just one of many Scottish perks.

The next step on this last adventurous day was crossing the Strath Cailleach river. Although this river wasn’t as straightforward to cross as my carrier couple had expected it to be, with some walking back and forth they found the perfect spot to hop across. The hopping included quite a serious risk of getting wet hiking boots, but it was the last hiking day so they didn’t mind it too much. Fortunately, they got across dry-footed and marched on. They decided to follow the inland route that passes along Loch a’Gheodha Ruaidh before reaching the barbed wire indicating the military training range. No red flags dangling about to create any doubt about the information on the MOD website. My couple had been expecting a little ladder or stall to cross the fence, but this was not the case. A kind person had however wrapped some rope and cloth around the wire which pulled it down a little and significantly reduced the risk of ripped trousers. Those who think that the last obstacle has been faced after crossing this fence are mistaken. The slither and tumble down to Keisaig River was a quick reminder that the adventure continued. Climbing back out of the gully, orientation became a little tougher. To further distract us from proper orientation, sea eagles started soaring above. Exactly as Will from ‘Kayak Summer Isles’ had described, the wings of these enormous birds looked like two ironing boards carrying them higher and higher towards the sun. Suddenly, in between the getting lost and the distraction, they spotted the road lying ahead. It wasn’t close, but it wasn’t far away either. My carrier lady could no longer control the giggles bursting from inside. This time she had made it. There was nothing that could change that. Reaching the gorge holding the Allt na Clais Leobairnich river they decided to follow the gorge inland till it mellowed out and became easier to cross. By this time there was definite proof of the road. We weren’t able to see the road itself, but chances were pretty slim that someone could so easily ride a bicycle across the heathery mushy terrain we were still making our way across. Having crossed the river, it was just one last push upwards towards the road. Even then the lighthouse remained hidden. It was tantalisingly close, yet it was only within the last kilometre that the tiny white tower came into sight.

Between Sandwood Bay and the Cape Wrath lighthouse.

Before I get carried away in finishing this story, let me tell you this. Me, my carrier couple and I strongly agree that although Cape Wrath is the official ending of the trail, it is Sandwood Bay that makes it all worth it. It is reaching Sandwood Bay that is filled with emotions. Happiness. Disbelief. Gratitude. Following this cocktail of feelings, Cape Wrath felt like a mere box ticked off on the places to-reach checklist. Anyhow, we made it and my carrier lady could not stop smiling.

The surprise awaiting her at the lighthouse quickly wiped that smug smile off her face. Even though they had called just two days ago to check if the shuttle and ferry were still running to get them off the peninsula, this was no longer the case. When the owner of the lighthouse told her this, she refused to believe the words coming from his mouth. Several times she asked him if he was joking, but as it turned out, he wasn’t. No shuttle. No ferry. They were not the only Cape Wrath finishers stranded at the lighthouse. There was another lad waiting who had booked the ferry a few days ago.

Maybe because of the disbelief on my carrier lady’s face, maybe because he just wanted the best for this bunch of stranded hikers, but even so, the owner of the lighthouse promised to come up with a solution. A solution costing each hiker 25 pounds, but a solution nonetheless. I could join them for free. Yet another good day to be a little white rock!

He would drive them to where the ferry normally crosses the Kyle of Durness. From there onwards they were on their own. They would have to move across wild country along Beinn an Amair, head towards the end of the Kyle of Durness to find the bridge across Grudie river. From then onwards they would have to make their way east across the little peninsula to reach a few buildings and yet another bridge across river Dionard. Having crossed this second and last river of the trail, they would be able to take a bus or hitch a ride to Durness. There it would be possible to wait out the storm that was announced to hit the shores of Scotland the next day.

Their luck turned. Nearly reaching the Kyle of Durness, the owner of the lighthouse started to take out his binoculars. He kept staring towards the water. Was he really having a closer look at the seals lying on the sand isles dotted across the bay? As it turns out, he was not. He had spotted the owner of the ferry with his boat at the far end of the water. The owner of the ferry had apparently agreed to bring a French guy and his bicycle across with the promise to pick him back up around 2:30pm. Our timing couldn’t have been better! We arrived exactly at the time that the tiny ferry was on its way to pick up the guy with his bicycle, the guy we had spotted earlier just before reaching the road.

All the coincidences along the way suddenly came together! If they hadn’t reached Glenfinnan in one day, if they hadn’t hiked from A’Chuil to Barrisdale Bothy on the same day, if they hadn’t stayed at Shenavall to get engaged, if they hadn’t taken three resting days in Ullapool, if they hadn’t hiked from Loch Stack to Sandwood Bay in one day and if they hadn’t gotten up early that morning, this wouldn’t have happened. They would have ended up stuck in a storm without any means of getting out.

Life is not a story that can be planned. It goes on, hours by hour and day by day. A decision that seems to be the right one may be a disaster and a thoughtless decision may turn into a blessing. We’re mere players along the way, waiting for destiny to roll its dice. Hoping for the best and always preparing for yet another adventure.