It Wasn't Quite As Bad As The Terra Nova Expedition

I have always professed that the two best reasons to go backpacking are as follows: 1. To come home after backpacking and 2. To brag about how horrible it was.

Why do I keep on doing it? Is it because I'm a conceited, emulous pig and I want to be better at everything than everyone else?

mmmmmmmmm... yes

Day 4. Elgol Harbor. 8 am.

After another bitterly cold morning, we arrived at the harbor for our trip into Loch Coruisk and the Black Cullins. An older couple eventually joined us and we started sharing niceties. We eventually realized that the man (and 2nd wife?) was the father of the owner of the store that we had shopped in the day before. He had between 7-9 other children in the Highlands somewhere and he was on a grand tour. Some people get around... Eventually the boat crew arrived and we got our safety briefing, etc. We took the tour with Bella Jane. Now, on their website you'll see a picture of a nice big ol' blue boat. We assumed we would be taking that one into the Loch.

WRONG

We instead would be taking a RIB. Now, Merrie is absurdly afraid of water. This did not come as a very comforting realization. We played it cool and got on our weird saddle seats and braced for the ride. Fast-forward 30 minutes and we just had one of the coolest experiences of our lives. I do not have any videos or pictures while on board, but we were moving at quite a good clip. The water was spraying everywhere and the scenery was just crazy. Right before we landed there were seals, and seal pups, on a little island near us. It was a good time.

The RIB going away with the seal island on the left. It's difficult to see the scale of the Cullins, but I think this picture does a nice job.

Merrie infront of Sgurr na Stri. Another scale picture. (That was also the mountain we intended to scale)

Loch Coruisk and Me. We're buds. It's unfortunate it was such a poor day.

That's what it should have looked like. From the mountain we should have gone up. You may have won this battle nature...

 Of all days, everyone predicted this one to be the nicest. It really ended up being the worst... Maybe next time. We started the hiking day by trying to circumvent the perimeter of the loch but we just realized it would take too long with how wet the ground was. Regardless, we had a good time walking around the loch for a while. We made it back to our insertion point where we had to cross a fairly widely spread out rock bridge/damn. It was pretty intense. Falling in could really ruin... a lot. We eventually made it. Bodies, clothes, packs, and iPhones were all safe. From this point we started walking up a "trail" towards Srath na Creitheach and Glen Sligachan. About half way up, the trail completely disappeared and it started to steadily rain. At this point we really had to just say "screw it." Every part of us was going to get wet and we knew theoretically where we were, lets just get up the ridge. After an uncomfortable climb, we had an unrewarding tuna lunch at the top of the ridge. In the planning stages, we thought we might climb Sgurr na Stri to get a better view of the Cullins, but it was just far too wet and visibility was horrid. It would have been pointlessly dangerous. Did I still bitch about not trying? Refer to my statement near the top...

Glen Sligachan with River Sligachan snaking through it. This was just when it started to clear up. Those two lakes were only about a third of the way to Sligachan.

Thankfully it really started to clear up after we started to descend. Again, Skye presented us with a completely different environment. Merrie commented that it looked prehistoric. I agree. We had a good time crossing about 80 creeks that bled into River Sligachan in the Mexico-ish scenery. It stayed reasonably dry on the ground and in the air, so it that was a blessing considering how soaked we'd gotten the entire morning. 

We knew that the town(?) of Sligachan consisted of one large hotel and maybe 4 other houses. It also was the first place to have a proper campsite. We had gotten pummeled enough by the elements that we kept our faith up by saying that we were going to stay in the hotel that night, regardless of how the evening actually ended up. From about 3-4 miles out we could start to see it. The building was a nice goal to have in our sights. By the mid afternoon we made it to Sligachan to find out that the campsite was not "open" and did not have showers, or toilets, or laundry. With this awful twist, we pulled the trigger and got a hotel room. It got upgraded for free. That was cool. Being Merrie's first real backpacking trip, she was being an absolute trooper. We needed a treat. It was really a pretty brutal day of about 13-14 miles in the end. In hindsight, the hotel really kept the trip alive. The room was big enough that we emptied out or bags and slew all of our sweaty and just plain wet clothes and equipment all over the floor, heaters, and heated towel racks. After about 18 baths each, we had an embarrassingly pitiful PB&J dinner in our nice seating area. Merrie probably went to bed at 8pm and I reveled in BBC Scotland. I saw this documentary about Scott's failed Terra Nova Expedition and it was probably the best thing I've seen on TV this entire time I've been here. You know you're destined for greatness when your middle name is Falcon.

That was a pretty rewarding day. Maybe our middle names should be Falcon. God knows, Merrie needs another one...

Mhm

The next morning after our Torrin experience we headed out for Elgol. We had to backtrack a little bit back to the "main road" and go around the rim of Loch Slapin with what I believe to be the Red Cullins all around us. Instead of sticking to the road for the whole trip, we decided to veer off and do our first "unmarked" hiking. We started walking along the trail towards Bla Bheinn but instead went south and paralleled the road to the East and the An Carnach ridge to the West. This was the first time we really experienced the bog of Scotland. Merrie had adequate boots, which she had gotten only a few days before we left, and worked... wonderfully! (Thank the Lord) I, however, was using some trusty hiking shoes that were very "breathable." I knew they had to be re-waterproofed, which I did twice, but that still didn't seem to help at all. For the rest of the trip the bog and staying dry was our real enemy. With every step you could see your foot push a pool of water out of the saturated ground around your foot. It was really unnerving. You really didn't know what was solid and what would engulf your foot.

Looking elated getting, and purify, water near rusty electrical equipment feeding into the creek.

A picture of the mossy woods. Do not be fooled, that ground is not dry, at all.

 We had lunch in a cool forested area almost completely covered in moss. It was neat. Just after that, we got back onto the road near Kirkibost/Kilmarie. From there we kept near the coast. For any Jethro Tull fans, we passed by Ian Anderson's old house as well as Dun Ringill... Anyway, the coastal walk was pretty straightforward. It eventually turned into a fireroad type of trail and we got a little mixed up when we walked through someone's front yard when we were actually supposed to walk through their backyard. Oh well...

Me looking savage in a picture on a road between Elgol and Glasnakille. Behind me should be the isles of Soay and Rum. Let me also point out how dry the ground looks just a few feet to my right. Unfortunately, it's not, at all. It is utterly and completely soaked.

Eventually we hit Glasnakille and headed west across the Strathaird peninsula towards Elgol. We didn't have time to hit a pretty impressive coastal cave known as Spar Cave. However, in hindsight, I don't think we had enough battery power and we didn't know the tides (because you can get stuck in it). The little hike from Glasnakille to Elgol had an alien and barren landscape. Again, it was neat. On our way into Elgol we saw a few perfect campsites and the first real building in the town we hit was the "village hall" pictured in the wikipedia article. Coincidentally, this doubled as the only store in the town. We got a few more supplies and a free can opener (because I really turned on the charm). From there we went down to the harbor and got us some tickets into Loch Coruisk the next morning. The harbor also has one of the most badass primary schools I've ever seen in my life. I can see why people never leave.

Merrie peering out of our tent at our campsite just outside of Elgol.

From there we went back to our campsite and had some dinner and the only fire of our trip. So that was Day 3.

I'm So Lazy

We last left off on Day 2 of Scotland.

We had a (soon to be standard) early morning and caught the ferry over to Armadale in the Sleat area of Skye. We spent some time in the harbor area talking to other hikers and imaging the almost certain fairy-tale lives of the other passengers on the ferry. We also were given some nuggets of knowledge about transportation in Skye by a photographer and his little shop. (I used to have his card, but I seem to have misplaced it... I'm sure it's around here somewhere...) Eventually, and apparently luckily, our bus showed up. From the harbor we got the bus all the way up to Broadford. From there, our first day of real hiking began. 

Images from the bus ride to Broadford

Another one

In Broadford

We headed south out of Broadford towards Torrin. We had a clear, but very windy, day. It was difficult to talk when we were walking in to the wind. The first real mountains that welcomed us were Beinn na Caillich and Beinn Dearg. They were a dominating feature for almost the whole hike. Before we headed towards the coast, we stopped off at Cill Chriosd. It was pretty. After that little side trip we continued south until we hit the ruined settlements of Boreraig and Suisnish. Both of these settlements' populations were forcibly removed as part of the Highland clearances in 1853 by the Macdonald clan. This was to make way for sheep, since they were more profitable than people. While walking in between the two ruins I might have accidentally steered us up a pretty steep sheep trail instead of the nice coastline... Oh well, it looked like the trail when we started... After a few leaps of faith and some bushwhacking we made it back down.

Merrie in Broadford with Beinn na Caillich and Beinn Dearg behind

Me looking like an absolute twat with Loch Eishort and Sleat behind

Boreraig

More Boreraig

We liked Boreraig

More Loch Eishort

After the two settlements, we started heading back North with Loch Slapin to our left. The trail had turned into a gravel road by this point and the hiking was pretty straightforward. Along the way there was a nice bench dedicated to a man and his dog. They apparently had the right idea because the view was pretty stunning. We had a very deserving rest there for a while. Eventually we hit Kilbride. It was annoying having to circle around for an extra mile or two because of a quarry which we didn't see on the map, but it was all ok, until we got to Torrin.

Now, until this time, we were under the illusion that towns that looked like the size of Torrin on our map, would have things like... stores, or gas stations, or restaurants. Nopes. There was a telephone booth and one "cafe" that had a very small window of opening times. Looking back, there are around 35 structures individually marked on the map. They were all house or barns. That's not very many. After this sad revelation (since most "towns" on our maps were Torrin's size or smaller) it began to rain. So, we headed on to a boggy, marshy hillside and looked for a descent campsite for a half hour. We never found one, but we camped there anyway...

So, that was Day 2.

I DECLARE MY EXAMS OVER.

So... Now that life has slowed back down over the past couple days, I feel like I can devote the time that I really need to share/chronicle some of our peregrinations. God knows I won't do it once we get back. So, all you already bored summer kids can check out some of the fun we were having.

I believe we last left off at Scotland. That started (checks calender) on the 14th of April.

After returning from London, we both began to kick ourselves over the fact of not even giving ourselves a full day of rest/preparation. I believe we got somewhere between 3-5 hours of sleep that night. The day of the 14th we awkwardly got ourselves a bus down to the train station with our 40lbs bags and unknowingly got on one of the best train rides in the world. Literally. Check it out. So we had a nice time attempting to stay awake for that trip. It was unfortunately a little bit, or maybe a lot, overcast, so we really didn't get to see all that we would have liked. It's a pretty interesting story. I'm sure my dad has read a book on it. Probably.

Anyway, our train eventually ended up in Glasgow and we had an afternoon to spend there before our train all the way to Mallaig. We were departing from a different station than our arrival so we wandered around Glasgow for a while attempting to find the station. It only looked like it was a block or two away but somehow it still managed to take awhile. While there, we bit the bullet and splurged on a baggage storage box. Unfortunately we couldn't have knifes or explosives or etc etc etc. SO, we ended up walking around for the afternoon with a bottle of butane. Needless to say, it was preeettty awkward. Don't mind me, I've just got some really explosive gas in my hand, in your store. Nothing to worry about. We eventually found a Tesco and bought some tiny amount of food so I could put it in a bag. While there we also ate at a fantastic little pub where I got myself a steak pie and Merrie had (gasp) macaroni and cheese. After the moving culinary masterpiece, we then decided to wait some more, and then some more. Gonna be honest here. Glasgow, nice to see, not that much to do. Additionally, after about the 4-5 block square city center, I felt like we were walking through a 3D documentary of inner city violence and poverty. Apparently it's getting better, good for them.

Finally our train left for Mallaig and we had about... if I recall correctly... somewhere around 20-25 stops? Again, this trip was a complete continuation of the beauty of our first train trip of the day, but there was also a continuation of the clouds. We got to see a lot of the mainland highlands, the Trossarchs, and Loch Lomond. The entire rest of the of the trip Merrie serenaded me to Bonnie Backs O' Loch Lomond. It was nice when the sun went down and we didn't have to strain our necks as much and just go to sleep (we would need it). We eventually ended up in the small harbor town of Mallaig at around 11:30. A few weeks before we left for the trip, we thought to ourselves, do we want to be all bland and boring and actually book a hostel in Mallaig? We thought, noooo nooooo... We want a STORY. So here's your story. Guess what? The one hostel by the train station didn't have any vacancies! Duh. Cut to about an hour later and we have walked about the entire town and there seems to be about 2 places with vacancies. One looks like we wouldn't wake up in the morning (if you catch my drift) and the other was on a nice hill overlooking the bay where we would cost us all of our cash and our firstborn child. At this point we decided to just start heading out of town to camp in the nice soft ground which muuuuust be near by. On our way out of town we past another b&b which claimed to have vacancies. After our creepy 15 minute walk, we turned around and tried the b&b. 20 Minutes later we were rejected by a grumpy women in pajamas that had neglected to change her sign. At this point we probably fought some and then went on a trip down a previously unseen street. On this magic street was a big hotel! There's not a single light on in the entire place. But wait, is that a small pub/hotel a few doors down? Yes, yes it is. Is the door still open? Yes, yes it is. Is there a light on? No, no there isn't. Do we yell out into the dark anyway? Yes, yes we do. Does a scared man answer us and think we're ghosts? Yes, yes he does. Does the scared man eventually state that he was just about to leave through the back door and we would not have gotten a room? Yes, yes he does. Do they end up having vacancies? No, no they don't. By this time it is on the latter half of the 1 o'clock hour and the chap recommends climbing a hill which we had previously walked by on our way out of town. Long story long, we end up going back out to this mini-quarry thing, climbing it, realize my batteries on headlamp are dying, Merrie's headlamp brakes, were we eventually find a decently flat and dry enough place to set up the tent. In hindsight, it was one of the nicest campsites we had. Eventually, we get to bed probably around 2:30, 3 hours after our train arrived, and less than 6 hours from when our ferry departed. Did I mention we had 40lbs packs on the entire time we did this? I think we got our story... and maybe a lesson... maybe...

The view from our tent after night pitch. Pretty good start.

Another view of our soon to be infamous tent.

A view of of some of the houses in the Harbor of Mallaig while we were on the ferry to Armadale. I think the one on the hill in the middle might have been the "expensive" B&B.