Cape Wrath ish
Today was hard. But there were very many ways in which it could have been harder. I was up at 6am knowing that a long day lay ahead. There was a young couple in a tent nearby who were also up. They had a very impressive stove-cum-coffee percolator as part of their minimal kit and they invited me to sample its produce. Which I did gladly. They were from London and were on the last day of cycling the NC500. I always think of that route as the domain of campervans but there were many motorbikes and bikes competing for space on the roads which from Melvich on, are single lane with passing places. I enjoyed the brief company of the young couple before striking camp and I was on the road by 7:30 as I had around 70 miles to do if I was to reach Cape Wrath.
I can't believe that Kate and I did this very road 4 years ago on the end to end. (The opposite direction) It's brutal! Beautiful but brutal.
There were just a few places which looked like they might boast or shop or, dare I say, a coffee shop en route. I'm finding that, up here, you approach somewhere which has all sorts of signs for things you will find in the village only to have your hopes dashed when you arrive. In the end, I made a detour to Tongue whilst my sat nav complained bitterly that I wasn't sticking to the route. There was a coffee shop! Joy! I went in to what was also obviously a village store. The coffee shop was a few tables next to a coffee machine. No sign of any sticky buns... It turned out that if you wanted something to eat, you bought it from the shop and took it in. Thus, armed with a sandwich, I entered and tried operating the coffee machine. It was obviously on standby. I woke the screen up, didn't realise that I had, pressed it again and realised, too late, that my second push told the machine that I wanted a Cortado. Not my beverage of choice but hey...
Then it was the biggest hill of the day. Some roads stick to the coast or the edge of a Loch. Not this one. Straight over the top. Durness was another village to give you false hope. But there was a trailer selling chips, sweets and teas, coffees. I fell upon it. And soon joined the merry throng sat outside at picnic tables. Germans, Italians, Spanish, even a few French and English.
And so down to the ferry. Which was a kind of tub. I arrived to find the ferry man fishing with his son. He was on his phone so I asked his son if there were anymore Ferries that day - it was getting late. He said no. My heart sank. The man ended his call and said he could take me but not bring me back until tomorrow. Fine. But, he replied, I'm going for something to eat first. See you in 40 minutes. So for an hour, I was left stranded at an increasingly cold ferry 'port'.
Eventually I was dumped on the otherside of quite a wide estuary where two mountainbikers were waiting to get on. They looked at my gear and were very dubious. They said they had lost loose fillings on their bikes with no extra gear and they only made it half way. The track to the lighthouse is 11 miles. They jumped into the tub and with a nod from the ferry man, they were gone. That felt quite final. There is nothing there. There is certainly no way back to the 'mainland'.
I loaded my bike up again and set off as best I could. The track was horrendous as well as being steep up and down. There were times when I had to resort to walking. I don't do that lightly. I checked the map when I thought I was nearly there and discovered that I was just over half way. The ferryman said the only time I could return tomorrow was at 9am. I was defeated. 6 miles had taken over an hour and a half! I couldn't risk either missing the boat tomorrow, or injuring me or the bike trying to rush.
I was pretty gutted tbh. So near yet so far.
Time was pushing on and I had to turn my attention to finding a camp spot. It's a combination of a level pitch, not too boggy or stony and not too in the public gaze. In the end I went for a spot next to an abandoned house. It was right on the 'road' but that hardly mattered. I saw no-one for my duration there.
I ate a freeze dried meal. Chicken curry. Not too bad. Made a hot chocolate and then turned in.
I lay there feeling pretty down at having not quite made it, then remembered that far more of a bucket list thing for me, has always been to camp by myself in a remote corner of Scotland. TICK.
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