10-11th August 2016
Distance : 26km
Height : 750m
Time : 7hours
In 2015's stage, I successfully finished at Kinlochbervie after walking over Foinaven and down the Loch Inchard road. This meant that 2016 would be fairly straightforward from an 'effort' point of view, with not much distance to cover to complete.
I decided to incorporate the final leg within a family holiday to the North-West in a campervan. This would hopefully allow me the freedom required at this stage. However, things were slightly complicated by me being the sole driver...
We departed the Clachtoll campsite near Lochinver and drove to Durness (Sango Sands campsite) via Handa Island. Arriving at 2pm meant I had an hour or so to pack the rucksack and check my overnight gear. I also made three phonecalls. Firstly to the MOD to check whether the Cape Wrath range would be operating the next day. It wasn't. Secondly, to John, the ferryman for the Kyle of Durness - yes he would be working. Finally to James, the bus driver to ask what time the first bus from the lighthouse would be leaving. This was the important call - it would determine my walking schedule. John told me 11:30am would be the departure time.
Off to the Durness Visitor Centre for the 15:40 bus to Kinlochbervie. The driver pulled in with his bike trailer clanking. This was the same bus and driver who had collected me in 2015 from Kinlochbervie and returned me to my car at Inchnadamph. We rattled off to Kinlochbervie, patiently negotiating the single track road from Durness to Rhiconich. I jumped out at the pier, he wished me luck and after setting the watch, I headed north.
The wind was quite keen so I had to zip up and wore gloves as I walked the road through Oldshoremore and then Blairmore to the car park for Sandwood. I had last been here in 2000 when it was a whole lot smaller. There was a cafe now, toilets and at least thirty parked vehicles. It was about 6pm by now and there were many walkers arriving back from Sandwood looking like they'd had a good day.
I had a feeling of smug satisfaction to be walking in the opposite direction at this time of day and made sure to greet them all as I passed on the track. It was clear the John Muir Trust have tried to improve the track, but not enough to make it a simple motorway.
After another hour or so and passing 37 other walkers (yes I counted!), the bay came into view and I wandered down through the dunes to the sand. The wind was blowing from the north-west straight into the bay with some huge breakers crashing onto the shore. The tide was out, but the water was still trying hard to stay on the land.
I walked north along the sand, enjoying the wonderful sense of solitude here. Sandwood really is a special place and I was happy to find it still invoked the same wonder I felt 16years earlier. Soon enough, I reached the outflow from Sandwood Loch curving across the sand to the sea. Just as I was deciding on the best place to cross, I noticed a large tent in the dunes from which a family of three and a dog emerged.
They had wellies so made light work of the river crossing. I had to remove my boots and socks (not for the first time in the past 5 outings!) and waded to the other side. In my bare feet, I continued walking along the sand after a quick glance at the map to make sure I wasn't going to a dead end against cliffs. After a couple of hundred metres or so, with the boots back on I left the beach and climbed up the hill beside the Amhainn Strath Chailleach. It was a significant river and I vaguely recall reading about previous accounts of it being impassable. I made sure to cross at the earliest opportunity and then followed it inland for another fifteen minutes until the land flattened out into a wide strath.
It was now about 8.30pm so I decided to pitch my tent on some very tussocky ground near the river. After cooking and eating some food (pasta) which required some nursing of the stove in the breeze, I wandered up to a nearby knoll for a look back towards Am Buachaille at the south end of Sandwood. The sky was clearing of clouds and I worried if the wind dropped, it was going to be a cold night.
As expected, I shivered through the night in my lightweight sleeping bag only to be awake by 3am tossing and turning trying to stay warmish. At 5.30am I gave up and with the light of the sun brightening the flysheet, decided to start the day. My estimates on the map suggested only a couple of hours walking to reach the lighthouse from here, so 11:30am felt like a long way away. I would take it slowly.
By 6.30 I was on my way, sunglasses on the head as I was walking almost directly into the early morning north-easterly sun.
Soon enough, I reached the fence-line marking the boundary of the MOD area beside the Keisgaig River. I took heed of the warnings not to "Pick up suspicious objects". Looking at the land ahead, I decided I would climb one final peak before the end of my walk and altered direction slightly to the east to the domed summit of Cnoc a' Ghiubhais (298m). The map suggested cairns on the top - and there was a huge one on the main summit constructed of sandstone blocks. I wondered if the military had been involved.
From this viewpoint I was to finally see the north coast sweeping west to the Cape and then turning south. The blue sky was striated with high-level cloud being whipped by the wind. The end was in sight!
It was 8.30am. I had about 5km to go to the lighthouse so sat down in the lee of the wind for some food and thought over the whole walk.
Although I hadn't walked the whole route in one expedition, I felt an enormous sense of achievement in reaching this point. The logistics of arranging transport at either end of each section were fun to plan but the most enjoyable aspect of planning was finding a route. This 'trail' is not your average long-distance footpath. It is unmarked and there is no optimum line. With the publication of various guidebooks and websites, there is a popular route appearing but I was able to ignore that. I wanted to incorporate hill summits where possible, Corbetts preferably. I had compleated the Munros in 2011 and had changed my focus to the Corbetts soon after. Conveniently, there were several Corbetts not far from the traditional Trail.
The Geograph website had been my most valuable resource for researching a route by providing me a vague idea of whether I'd be wallowing in peat-hags or if a river was likely to be crossable.
I had used Citylink buses, Scotrail trains, local buses and the D&E Durness Bike Bus to get to my start/finish points. Sadly I hadn't resorted to hitch-hiking but that would have added too much unreliability to my tight schedules. Time was limited and I didn't want to be waiting beside a Highland road longer than necessary.
After some photographs from the cairn, I reluctantly continued north. No need to look at the map now - everything was laid before me. A little short of the lighthouse road, my boots became wet for the first time on this leg. That was fairly incredible to believe, but the ground was dry and since I was taking my time, I'd been able to choose the best lines. I walked on the rough tarmac for a few hundred metres before leaving it and climbing up to one last bump at Dunan Mor (163m) where the lighthouse came into view.
The weather was changing now with clouds thickening from the north and as I wandered around the delapidated complex I felt some dots of rain. The cliffs of the Cape were impressive and I marvelled at the nesting sea birds far below. At 10:30am I heard the low hum of an engine in the distance and then spotted the first minibus chugging along the road in 2nd gear.
Tourists disgorged towards the light; some went into the Ozone Cafe which had sprung to life in one of the adjacent buildings. I patiently waited for the bus to leave and take me back to civilisation and the end of my journey.
 |
| First view of the lighthouse (telephoto) not long after leaving Blairmore |
I decided to incorporate the final leg within a family holiday to the North-West in a campervan. This would hopefully allow me the freedom required at this stage. However, things were slightly complicated by me being the sole driver...
We departed the Clachtoll campsite near Lochinver and drove to Durness (Sango Sands campsite) via Handa Island. Arriving at 2pm meant I had an hour or so to pack the rucksack and check my overnight gear. I also made three phonecalls. Firstly to the MOD to check whether the Cape Wrath range would be operating the next day. It wasn't. Secondly, to John, the ferryman for the Kyle of Durness - yes he would be working. Finally to James, the bus driver to ask what time the first bus from the lighthouse would be leaving. This was the important call - it would determine my walking schedule. John told me 11:30am would be the departure time.
Off to the Durness Visitor Centre for the 15:40 bus to Kinlochbervie. The driver pulled in with his bike trailer clanking. This was the same bus and driver who had collected me in 2015 from Kinlochbervie and returned me to my car at Inchnadamph. We rattled off to Kinlochbervie, patiently negotiating the single track road from Durness to Rhiconich. I jumped out at the pier, he wished me luck and after setting the watch, I headed north.
 |
| Onwards to Sandwood |
I had a feeling of smug satisfaction to be walking in the opposite direction at this time of day and made sure to greet them all as I passed on the track. It was clear the John Muir Trust have tried to improve the track, but not enough to make it a simple motorway.
After another hour or so and passing 37 other walkers (yes I counted!), the bay came into view and I wandered down through the dunes to the sand. The wind was blowing from the north-west straight into the bay with some huge breakers crashing onto the shore. The tide was out, but the water was still trying hard to stay on the land.
I walked north along the sand, enjoying the wonderful sense of solitude here. Sandwood really is a special place and I was happy to find it still invoked the same wonder I felt 16years earlier. Soon enough, I reached the outflow from Sandwood Loch curving across the sand to the sea. Just as I was deciding on the best place to cross, I noticed a large tent in the dunes from which a family of three and a dog emerged.
 |
| Sandwood evening stroll |
It was now about 8.30pm so I decided to pitch my tent on some very tussocky ground near the river. After cooking and eating some food (pasta) which required some nursing of the stove in the breeze, I wandered up to a nearby knoll for a look back towards Am Buachaille at the south end of Sandwood. The sky was clearing of clouds and I worried if the wind dropped, it was going to be a cold night.
As expected, I shivered through the night in my lightweight sleeping bag only to be awake by 3am tossing and turning trying to stay warmish. At 5.30am I gave up and with the light of the sun brightening the flysheet, decided to start the day. My estimates on the map suggested only a couple of hours walking to reach the lighthouse from here, so 11:30am felt like a long way away. I would take it slowly.
By 6.30 I was on my way, sunglasses on the head as I was walking almost directly into the early morning north-easterly sun.
 |
| The moor between Sandwood and the Cape was a lonely but beautiful place studded with wee lochans |
From this viewpoint I was to finally see the north coast sweeping west to the Cape and then turning south. The blue sky was striated with high-level cloud being whipped by the wind. The end was in sight!
 |
| The end is in sight! (under my right elbow) |
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Although I hadn't walked the whole route in one expedition, I felt an enormous sense of achievement in reaching this point. The logistics of arranging transport at either end of each section were fun to plan but the most enjoyable aspect of planning was finding a route. This 'trail' is not your average long-distance footpath. It is unmarked and there is no optimum line. With the publication of various guidebooks and websites, there is a popular route appearing but I was able to ignore that. I wanted to incorporate hill summits where possible, Corbetts preferably. I had compleated the Munros in 2011 and had changed my focus to the Corbetts soon after. Conveniently, there were several Corbetts not far from the traditional Trail.
The Geograph website had been my most valuable resource for researching a route by providing me a vague idea of whether I'd be wallowing in peat-hags or if a river was likely to be crossable.
I had used Citylink buses, Scotrail trains, local buses and the D&E Durness Bike Bus to get to my start/finish points. Sadly I hadn't resorted to hitch-hiking but that would have added too much unreliability to my tight schedules. Time was limited and I didn't want to be waiting beside a Highland road longer than necessary.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
After some photographs from the cairn, I reluctantly continued north. No need to look at the map now - everything was laid before me. A little short of the lighthouse road, my boots became wet for the first time on this leg. That was fairly incredible to believe, but the ground was dry and since I was taking my time, I'd been able to choose the best lines. I walked on the rough tarmac for a few hundred metres before leaving it and climbing up to one last bump at Dunan Mor (163m) where the lighthouse came into view.
 |
| The lighthouse from Dunan Mor |
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| The minibus approaches. |
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