After landing in Inverie, I make my way to the campsite. I know that it is on a beach somewhere east of the jetty, but I’m not sure how far to go. I pass half of the the houses of Inverie, including the pub, the tea house, the post office, and the village hall, where the book festival is happening, greeting people on the street, when after a kilometer or so a Royal Mail car stops beside me. Even though Knoydart doesn’t have road access, it does have a few roads and cars, mostly landrovers. The postie introduces himself as Tommy and asks me whether I am staying at the campsite. I guess I look like it. He tells me that he is also the ranger here who is in charge of the campsite, and he gives me directions. He invites me to come along to the book festival and recites the programme. I make a non-committal noise, since I don’t really want to spend the money tonight, but I wouldn’t mind having a drink or so with Tommy. After passing the other half of Inverie I find a strip of grass by the beach next to a compost toilet and a field with horses - the campsite. I pitch my tent while watching a few kids playing in the sea. Three other tents are scattered around a large area. It is 7 pm and still beautifully sunny, so I go to the pub to have a pint in the sun. The evening is uneventful and I return to my tent for an early night.
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My tent by the water
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Knoydart hills in the background
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The bothy - the campsite common area for rainy days
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The next morning I get woken up by the heat and the stuffy plastic smell of a tent in the sun, and I am surprised that despite the nightly rain there seems to have been no leaks and my tent is dry inside. The day looks promising, but I overslept and I wonder whether I should really attempt the 22 km ridge walk which is supposed to take 9 - 12 hours (
click). But I am intrigued by the “dramatic ridges, huge crags falling into Coire Dhorrcail and amazing sea and mountain views from the summit.” I brought lots of food, the weather looks quite friendly and shouldn’t get really bad apart from maybe a few heavy showers.
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My planned walk, starting in Inverie, going anti-clockwise towards Loch an Dubh Lochain, up the Bealach, onto the ridge, up the munro, down to the glen and along the river back to Inverie Bay
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I make some coffee, have my müsli, and off I go on a track towards Loch an Dubh Lochain. I see a herd of deer, impressive stags, fearless little birds and a mouse and a frog, and then a group of highland cattle is blocking my way. Some of them are quite young, and others are not but have huge horns. I think it unwise to get between the two kinds, but there is not much I can do about it, as they are blocking my way.
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Big cattle
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Little cattle
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I carefully walk around the young one in a big arc, leaving the track for the bogs. Now I am between the scary one and its offspring. I am closely watched but no attacks occur. Having reached the loch I now need to climb a steep slope without a path to reach a bealach from where I can start the actual ridge walk. In the walk description it says: “The ascent from the track up to the Mam Suidheig is steep in places, rough and partially bracken-covered in summer; there is no clear path and it is every man for himself.”
What it doesn’t say is that the bracken is chest-high in parts and that one can get stuck in it, and that it might take two hours to cover an altitude difference of only 500 m. Underneath the bracken there are boulders, burns, and thorny brambles, all of which cannot be seen, anticipated, or avoided, which makes this quite a challenge for the ankles.
Once I’m up on the peaty bealach I am exhausted, and I take a long break to eat, and to negotiate my options. On the one hand I really want to do the ridge walk, have the great views, bag a munro and earn bragging rights. Not doing the ridge would be missing the point of this walk and of walking in Knoydart. On the other hand, my legs are quite tired already, my spirits certainly aren’t up for much more, I haven’t told anyone where exactly I was going, and this area of Scotland really is remote. If I turn my ankle here it might take a while until someone finds me. I could try to do the ridge and come off it earlier, maybe before the munro, but from here, the descent into the glen is looking rather steep and it might not be possible or safe. And if I did the whole thing I would likely miss tonight’s book festival events, an Ian McEwan reading, and the party with a ceilidh. So what should I do?
Continue reading: Knoydart Adventure - Part 3 click
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