Collected Musings of a Hill Wanderer

Friday, August 15th

After the wonderful weather that I met on Harris and enjoyed from there to South Uist, the skies on the Friday of my week long visit were to have more of a milky consistency. That isn’t to say that the day was a bad one, even if I did get a few light rain showers in the middle of the day. Compared to what other parts of the U.K. had been experiencing, these were minor perturbations and I more than well aware how lucky I was.

My explorations for the day took on something of the feel of a piece of reconnaissance. The hill country around Beinn Mor and Hecla was where I wanted to explore and that did happen, though not necessarily in the way that I had planned. An idea in my mind was to ascend the slopes of Maola Breac and perhaps to continue to the summit of Beinn Mor. However, a spot of confusion induced by the bus driver meant that I got off near Loch Druidibeag National Nature Reserve instead. Naturally, that resulted in a change of plan and, having seen the way in which the hills had sheathed themselves with cloud, it might have been just as well to stay low anyway. Speaking of lower altitudes, I didn’t limit my explorations to hillier locales since I got to sampling South Uist’s machair, one of Scotland’s National Scenic Areas, too. That might have led me to stopping over at Dalabrog (English: Daliburgh) when I otherwise might not have done. May might be the best month for a visit but the flora can be colourful in August too as I discovered.

Equally worthwhile were the sights that I was seeing as I picked up the road for Loch Sgioport after leaving the bus at Groigearraidh. The hills were well in view as I skirted the shores of Loch Druidibeag. The hills were brooding under their cloudy cloak but the sun was lighting up what what was round about me. As I sped along the road, I was making my way through countryside that was getting increasingly rough, hummocky and lochan-studded. The rocky buttresses of Hecla came ever closer while passing Beinn Tarbert revealed views to the north; I believe that I was making out Eaval in the distance.

As is my wont, I eventually made my escape from tarmac tramping to pick up a good track that was signed for Hecla. It’s best not to leave initial appearances fool you though because the maintained track only goes as far as old shielings at Caolas Mor. After that, it’s very much a case of carefully navigating through country until steeper inclines are reached. Keeping by the coast helps because my wanderings revealed how tricky it would be to find your way using a more direct approach. You might have a right to roam but slow going over tussocks soon convinces you that there are easier places to walk. Seeing it with a grey and damp aspect like I did very much reinforces that impression; this was where I got the least clement weather of the day.

In fact, it was while I was wandering over those tussocks that the day was at its most leaden in appearance and dampest in feel but things were set to improve. In fact, the hills were to be uncloaked, allowing for a spot of photographic activity. After my fill of rough country walking, I returned to the road again and followed it to its end, a very dilapidated pier, before retracing my steps through countryside that looked better than before. The route followed on my return wasn’t completely faithful to the outbound one: I followed an inviting track into the nature reserve. Soon, that was become a peaty path that commanded concentration unless one was intent on blundering over heathery hummocks in a manner inconsistent with the retention of one’s dignity. It was still off road walking and with good views over Loch Druidibeag too, all while I was being taken to Stahlaigearraidh (English: Stilligarry) without incident. From there, it was back to Lochboisdale with an evening stop in Dalabrog on the way.

Wednesday, August 13th

After spending a long and largely sunny weekend visiting folk in Éire (I did manage to get up to the top of a hill so that there might more on that later), it is time to pick up the next installment of that Hebridean trip report. The start to that Wednesday was to be just as idyllic as the weather that we have been enjoying all week. Having had a good satisfying hike the day before meant that I was far from being in "rushing-about" mode. That walk hadn’t just allowed me to enjoy wonderful countryside in good weather but it also planted in me an idea for a another walk: Àird a’ Mhulaidh to Miabhaig and Ard Aisaig (anglicised to Ardvourlie, Meavaig and Ardhasaig, respectively).

So, it was a case of embarking on another bus journey, this time taking me from Tarbert to Àird a’ Mhulaidh, and I was set to start my trek though the heart of some expansive hill country. In contrast to the clear blue skies over Tarbert, the hills near Àird a’ Mhulaidh had gone and accumulated nearly enough cloud to block out the sun for a goodly portion of the time. It is true to say that it get through at times but I had to leave the larger remnants of blue sky after me as I left Loch Shìphoirt (in English: Loch Seaforth); the sea loch in question remained well lit by the sun for as long as I had a view of it on looking behind me.

Conditions remained dry with the sun poking out to stop me in my tracks for a spot of photography and I had a good track underfoot all of the way to Bealach na hUamha. The gradient was gentle too up to the bealach but my legs were in for more testing action as I dropped down to ford Abhainn Langadail and climbed back out again, along the lower slopes of Stuabhal. After the bealach the track had by now become a path but this was largely clear apart from a boggy stretch on the western backs of Abhainn Langadail. On the descent, there were ample opportunities to peer at Loch Langabhat (there are a few of these in the Western Isles, apparently) to the north and Harris’ hilly heartlands to the south.

The sky grew steadily darker as I made my ascent to the saddle between Rapaire and Stuabhal but things did brighten up again while I took a rest on that bealach. It afforded me one last glimpse of Loch Shìphoirt in the distance, which had been growing smaller all of the way to Bealach na hUamha before I lost it on dropping into the glen for that river crossing. To the west, a myriad of rocky hills lay gleaming in bright sunshine. Stuabhal looked reachable from the saddle but I had enough on my plate and left it for another day.

After an ascent, it was time to descend again. Clouds hid the sun away while a certain dampness began pervade the air as I made my way down to Loch Chleistir. Waterproofs were needed but the rain wasn’t too unpleasant at all. It was only to be a light shower and I was to meet a few of those before I reached Miabhaig. From Loch Chleistir, I rounded Creag Chleisitir to drop into Gleann Stuladail to meet a vehicle track near Loch Bhoisimid where some folk were out fishing. A modicum of height was gained after I had past Lochan an Fheoir. The muggy atmosphere meant that my waterproofs remained off as much as possible and it was ideal for midges whose attentions meant that I kept moving as much as I could. The blunt nose of Sron Scourst loomed ahead and I was up by its flank and attendant loch soon enough.

By now, I was well along Gleann Mhiabhaig and progress was being restrained. There was good reason: the sun was out while the showers stayed away so the ever widening vistas were made to look as well as they ought to appear. There was to be one last light rain shower before I got to the B887 and none disturbed me after that. In fact, the evening was to be of the type that keeps on drawing back me to Scotland time after time.

Once on tarmac again, I took a small break before setting off for Ard Aisaig. I had it in mind to catch the last bus from there back to Tarbert but that plan got scuppered by a certain tardiness induced by my surroundings. Rushing about on an idyllic evening like what I had would have been silly anyway; it’s so much better to take your time when everything is looking its best. My walk might have been longer but I wouldn’t have wanted to be indoors when things were as good as they were.

My trek didn’t take me past the collection of houses that is Miabhaig because I would have been needing to head towards Huisinis to pass them and it was a diversion that I was not unhappy not to make, even if it might have revealed new sights to me. In any event, I wasn’t to be disappointed by the views over Loch Mhiabhaig together with those both along and across Loch a’ Siar (West Loch Tarbert to some) that I did see. They kept me entertained to the point that any displeasure from road walking was the last thing on my mind. I might have begun to tire on the final approach to Tarbert but fact that the evening wasn’t running out of steam easily kept me going until I reached where I was staying. I could have been forgiven for staying out a little longer than I did but I had my fill. Sometimes, it’s best to be grateful rather than greedy.

Tuesday, August 12th

It’s been a while since the last installation of my Hebridean trip report so it’s about time that this made its appearance. Picking which photos to include did cause some of the delay and I hope that I picked the best ones; there were many contenders of equal quality and it was hard to select one over another. The cause was that the Tuesday of the week of my visit was blessed with marvellous weather and the countryside looked well in the glorious sunshine.

Monday’s weather was something of a mixture without coming close to being a chore to bear. I did meet up with some rain but there were spells of blue skies and sunshine to be had at times too. Yes, cloud abounded but there was no misery. Tuesday was to improve on this and I arose to the sight of clear blue skies and sunshine. Not knowing whether it would last caused me to take the camera on a short sortie before breakfast. I need not have worried because a glorious day was ahead of me. It might have clouded over later on but the rain stayed away and I got in an excellent stroll.

After a good breakfast, I caught a bus to Àird a’ Mhulaidh (Ardvourlie in English) from where I was going to walk to Tarbert by way of the Harris Walkway or Frith-rathad na Hearadh. As it happened, I disembarked from the bus a bit further on than I had intended but that was fortuitous: I spotted a promising opportunity for a walk on the day after. Though I was sorely tempted by the prospect of crossing through the hills to Miabhaig (anglicised to Meavaig), a certain reality made me stick to my planned course.

That reality was the fact that I was carrying everything for week with me that day. For my other walks, I was able to lighten the load on my back but this was the one day where that wasn’t possible. The result was that I was travelling perceptibly slower than I otherwise would, something that echoes a sentiment expressed by Andy Howell after his recent trek in the Pyrenees. Maybe I need to get in some training for walking with heavy but still sensible (15-20 kg) loads…

So, adapting a pace that was more akin to a tortoise than a hare, I made my way along the shores of Loch Shìphoirt (or Seaforth). The load on my back wasn’t the only thing that was slowing me down: the day couldn’t have been better and the scenery took on a most appealing aspect. Eilean Shìphoirt (Seaforth Island) looked far more lofty than its 217 m summit would suggest. It was all in the steepness and that is very much a feature of Harris. The only fly in the ointment was I was walking on tarmac and was to continue along the A859 until I got past the bridge over Abhainn Scaladail. Thankfully, the road wasn’t that busy at all and I was well away from it by the time that the traffic from the Uig ferry started to make its way north from Tarbert.

On my OS Explorer, the track that I was to follow was merely an undistinguished dotted line, one of many depicted on Scotland’s walking maps. It gave me no hint that this was the start point for the Harris Walkway that officially opened by Cameron McNeish in 2001. Of course, signs on the ground gave the game away. The track itself cut an obvious line up the side of Caisteal Ard and Cleit Ard as it carried on my ascent from the bridge. It may have been the post road from Stornoway, was very much a green lane and was boggy over a lot of its length with a good deal of water underfoot at times. Given the summer that we got this year, that should be no surprise and surface water is a minor perturbation for a hill walker anyway.

Gaining height allowed me wider views and they continued to vary as I plied my way back to the A859 again. Sea lochs, steep-sided hills and freshwater lochans were all part of the fare on offer. Views of An Cliseam (the Clisham) abounded too as I took my time to enjoy my good fortune and took advantage of any benches that I found too. I didn’t know how long it would last but there was no sign of dramatic change as I mounted saddle between Cleit Ard and Gormul Màraig.

On returning to the A859, the skies became cloudier but the morning was good and there was sign of rain. I soon reached my final escape from the A859, until I reached Tarbert, that is. I lost height quickly on the minor road to Màraig (Maruig) and Reinigeadal (Rhenigadale). It was only in recent years that it was extended to the latter, which until then was only reachable on paths and tracks up. There is a Gatliff hostel at Reinigeadal which sounds a wonderful prospect once you strike up the trust to depend on finding a bed there without booking ahead. I suppose that’s easily achievable if you travel in the low season and it might not be too chancy in the summer either. Nevertheless, I’d rather have some sort of shelter with me just in case…

After losing all that height, I soon lost the tarmac at a switchback bend in the road to start on another off-road section of the Harris Walkway. It’s 6km could be done much faster than the time that I took over it but I had a heavy load and there was some wonderful countryside to be savoured. Even with the pervasive cloud hiding the sun on me, it still looked glorious. You couldn’t miss the cloud-free top of An Cliseam even if it was one of many of its kind, all of them equally impressive in appearance. As I made the gradual ascent of Bràigh an Ruisg, some walkers got out of a car on the road that I had left to walk the very same track. As I took a break for some food and to enjoy the views, they passed me, the only other walkers that I’d seen all day. I was happy to let them go on ahead of me; the last you want in places as nice as this is to feel as if you are some kind of line of traffic, especially when there was no need for it.

Going up and over Bràigh an Ruisg was the cause of my losing one set of views for me to get others in their place. For a short while, the sun got free from its cloudy prison and a camera was set into action before I left An Cliseam after me. One I got down from the bealach, the terrain was to be flatter as I bimbled by the lochans along the floor of Gleann Lacasdail, stopping at times to take in what was around me. Blue sky and sun still broke through but cloud was increasing all the while.

It didn’t take too long before the Tarbert-Scalpay road started to come into view and the sight of a goodly number of cars and other vehicles going along it was not what I wanted to see. Nevertheless, by the time I overcame the final spot of ascent to reach this road near Urgha, things had quietened down for a none too taxing tramp to Tarbert. Walking on a hard surface like tarmac is rarely pleasant when carrying a heavy load but having to remain alert for traffic adds to any discomfiture. I was therefore very thankful to have missed the earlier traffic.

Tarbert was reached in good time so I had the opportunity for a rest at my accommodation for the next two nights before pottering out for a restorative meal. After that, I took the chance to amble about the place where I was to spend two nights without the encumbrance of a heavy pack. That liberation from having to carry everything with me was to find use for my walk next day too. However, that’ll be something for the next post in the series.

You would think that a trail passing through the countryside of Harris with its wondrous hills, glens and lochs would be well publicised. However, that does not appear to be the case for the Harris Walkway and I came across it while following tracks marked on my OS map during my explorations of Harris last month. Even finding a description of it on the web is not as easy as it should be. I did manage to locate an article written by Cameron McNeish for The Sunday Herald shortly after he officially opened the trail in 2001 when he was president of the Rambler’s Association in Scotland. Here’s an excerpt that gives you a good flavour of the route followed:

Start: A859 road just E of bridge over the Scaladale River. Grid Reference: NB186096.

Finish: A859 road near Seilebost. Grid Reference: NG090971.

Route: From the cairn by the side of the road follow the green track S past Caisteal Ard and Gormul Maaruig. The track rejoins the main road for a short distance before following a minor road to the bridge over the Abhainn Maruig. From here a track runs S over the Braigh an Ruisg and down to Urgha Beag from where it’s only a short distance to Tarbert. From there a combination of roads and paths run through Cadha, Diraclett, Kendibig, Meavag and Drinishader. From the head of Loch Plocrapool another track and minor road combination runs to Grosebay from where a green road runs over the hills behind Cluer and Stockinish. Follow the line of the Sgurran Ruadha dyke N until you meet the road again on the zigzags of the Uamh Ard. Follow the road down to the junction of the Stockinish road, turn right up the sign-posted track and follow it through the bealach to the A859 near Seilebost.

All in all, it’s a good twenty mile trek so splitting it over two days sounds eminently sensible. The trouble with trying something like this in one day is that you are rushing along and that Harris deserves much better than that. Leaving some time to take it all in is very much in the spirit of the island. Not having hoards following you or ahead of you like the West Highland Way in summer makes it easy to slow down and relax a little. From my experience, I reckon that the countryside through which you’ll be passing demands nothing else.

Monday, August 11th

Ferry travel and island hopping are often synonymous. During previous Scottish outings, I have been known to explore Mull, Iona and Arran with Caledonian Macbrayne (Calmac to one and all) getting me to and from the islands in question. An Easter excursion to Arran involved an overnight stay but Mull and Iona have only ever seen me on day trips. Kerrera has been the same with its little passenger ferry getting me there and away.

The main way onto Skye these days is by going over its well known bridge but there ferry options for getting there too. One that I have used is that running between Armadale and Mallaig but there is another going between Glenelg and Kylerhea. That is a small community-run affair but it is summer-only like the much larger Calmac ferry. Unlike others that I have frequented, Skye has seen me on multi-day trips a few times although there have been shorter ones with me spending spending just a single night on the island too.

My Hebridean explorations last month had me spending just the one night on Skye with a few hours spent around Ben Tianavaig as well. I have shared that here already so I’ll move things along to that ferry ride to Harris. The sailing itself lasts an hour and forty minutes and the crossing of the Little Minch does take you sufficiently far away from land that they need registration cards for the crossing along with your ticket. That’s not to say that any sights on the crossing are devoid of land. Just stand at the right side of the boat and there’ll plenty to see.

I made my way to the cafeteria at the start of the crossing so we were well out of Loch Snizort by the time that I returned to the deck. An Easter Monday return from Arran taught me that getting fed before things got too busy was sound practice. It also started to rain as we left Uig so being under cover was no bad idea either and I had a dry few hours there before the ferry came.

Though we were out on more open water when I ventured outside again, Skye was far from being gone from view. In fact, the full length of the Trotternish was still visible even as it became an ever thinner line on the horizon. Some islands north of Skye came into view too. Visibility was very good with some sunshine about and the crossing remained a smooth one throughout.

Any lack of land was soon remedied as we pass into Loch an Tairbeart (Loch Tarbert West) with its myriad of islands. Scalpay was a major sight and, of course, there was Harris itself with its best hill country remaining steadfastly in shadow while other parts caught the sun. After all this wonder, Tarbert still seemed a pleasant spot even if it was far from huge. A visit to its tourist information centre resulted in my picking up a bus timetable for all of Harris and Lewis. Aird Asaig (Ardhasaig in English) was where I was staying the night so a bus ride was in order to save myself an hour’s walking with a full load on my back.

Once esconsced at my lodgings, I took to a spot of ambling. An Cliseam (or Clisham, Gaelic is the mainstay for the place names in these parts) and its client hills remained under cloud and some of the summits were shrouded too. I had no rain which was a blessing given the portents from the weather forecasts that I had been seeing. My wanderings took me around Loch Bun Abhainn Eaddara and along the shores of Loch a’ Siar. The journeying was short but glimpsed steep slopes that were stony and craggy, reminders that I was among proper hills regardless of what their heights might be. These were hills of which I was to see more but I had already seen enough to retire for the night. By then, the weather had taken on a damper aspect but the following day was when the real exploration was to commence.