Day Eighteen - Final DayDing-a-ling, ding-a-ling
The last day bell always fills me with mixed feelings – elation & melancholy.
I don’t think I’m alone in this.
The rain had ceased, so it was an alfresco breakfast to beat all.
Now, for that turbulent river crossing…
Yes, secretly I was wishing for a swinging suspension bridge, but don't tell Ian.
Ian scouted the best route and opted for the shallowest, slowest current, but widest part.
I reluctantly followed behind. It was fresh, rocky and fast. When he’d reached half-way he glanced back, to see me disappointedly, shivering back on the beach.
“Zen, got cold feet?”
He definitely had, even more so as he had to come back for me. Now strapped to Ian we edged cautiously across, until after the midpoint when I made a dash for the other side, dragging Ian with me.
Wake up shake
After yesterday’s arrival at Sandwood Bay, you’d be wrong in thinking the last day would be an anti-climax, as everything truly fabulous about the Cape Wrath Trail is encapsulated in this final day.
Virtually all is over beautiful pathless undulating moorland, littered with dark peat & bogs, wild Atlantic views, a tricky, potentially dangerous river crossing, an MOD firing zone and a bothy with a unique fascinating history.
The remoteness is intoxicating, intensified with the knowledge that very few folk venture this far north.
If you had no interest in visiting Strathchailleach bothy, then you could hug high above the Atlantic cliffs and head in a straight line North to Cape Wrath Lighthouse, though after such a sustained rain storm the river would be raging and impossible to cross at the point it descends in to the Atlantic. Best avoided after yesterday sustained deluge.
Ian wanted to see Strathchailleach bothy, anyway so we climbed over the ridge heading roughly North East, though I reckon Ian just headed up any which way, just to see what was over the other side.
Once over the ridge, Sandwood Bay sadly disappeared from view and we slogged it out across the empty trackless moors.
I do not know how Ian did it, but we miraculously hit a fence, much taller than me with a style!
“I’ve no idea either, Zen, just lucky I guess”
This was wonderous trekking – definitely gave me a spring in my step.
Strathchailleach bothy, with no road or trail access is as remote as they come. It was home to James McRory-Smith, a hermit for 40 years. It’s thankful to the Bothy Association that you can stay and make sense of his life in his atmospheric paintings adorning the walls.
The irony of it all lingered on me whilst I browsed, that in life he wished to be anonymous, yet in death he’s better known than most.
It would make for an eerie place to stay the night.
Some of James's finger painting:
Ian dallied over where to cross the river, Strath Chaillach before deciding on pausing midway on an river island and then scrambling up the opposite bank.
Open country, meandering and freedom at it’s best, as we made a general aim for the saddle of the hills ahead.
“Hey, Zen how are we doing on your wish list?”
‘Wish list:
Long sun-drenched days
Freedom forests to run in
Fresh streams and rivers to quench thirst
Cooling snow for massages
Remote hut stays
Wild camps everywhere - hills, lochs, rivers, sandy beaches with ace views of course
My fav trekking food and treats
Fab surprise reward at end, and a ...
Hot b*tch to play with and fall in love with’
“Almost complete, reward at end & find a mate!”
“I know we’ve had some luck, but getting lucky, I reckon that’ll be tough.
I know you are not fussy, and swing both ways, but I don’t recall us meeting a single dog.”
“Oh, how about at the Lighthouse café?”
“Only cats"
“Ah, I don’t swing that far!”
Soon after a bracing paddle across Kesgaig River we encounter the huge MOD fence, but no style, only barbed wire.
Beef Jerky Man had rung ahead a couple days ago to check there was no military action - confirmed with no red flag flying, though I had read that they sometimes forget to take them down.
I got lifted over and dropped on the other side, not so very gracious, but effective. Ian squeezed through the barbed wire.
“Now Zen, if you see any odd shaped objects, don’t paw, lick or eat them. Got it!
“Got it!”
For once I felt comfortable letting Ian lead the way, with me taking the same steps.
We contoured left and then right around the slopes of a few hills. Over the peat bogs, suddenly the peat bog gave way, and Ian tumbled down. In a flash I’d pounced on him, wet nosed butted him with a saliva filled facial lick.
“Yuk! Zennn!”
“That’ll teach you, not to lose concentration!”
“Good to see you’re looking out for me Zen.”
I could now see the sea on both sides, West and now East, as we headed North. The end was nigh.
Even Ian could hardly go wrong from here!
After a couple of kms we stumbled on a 4x4 track and even though I could sense enlightenment was just around the corner, we stopped for a small bite of lunch.
A moment for contemplation to let it all soak in - the experience of whole journey that had got us this far, before the elation of finishing.
“Ian, what will you do if the last mini-bus passes us now, knowing we haven’t made it or seen the lighthouse?”
“We let it go…and continue on and then walk to the Kearvaig bothy…10km away!”
Not sure if either of us really fancied another 10km!
'Naked I’ve walked, fur tingling with the breeze, paws scarred by jagged rocks, massaged by smooth pebbles, caressed by wild heather, exfoliated & cleansed in bogs. Soreness prevails, but without pain there is no feeling.'
We had joked why would you want to walk the Trail, North to South, with Fort William your final goal instead of Sandwood Bay & the Cape Wrath Lighthouse. Not much of an aim to keep you motivated, through the wind, rain & bogs.
Upon arriving at Cape Wrath, the bleakish place I’ve possibly ever visited, Fort William sounded attractive.
Cape Wrath’s ugliness just reminded us of how beautiful the whole Trail is, and all the motivation you’ll ever need.
The journey IS the destination!
“A difficult road, leads to a beautiful destination”
Saying that, the full Scottish breakfast at Ozone café is amazzzzzing! A worthy treat for finishing
First sight …Yes, I was first there!
Would you Adam & Eve it….? Zen found love …
Wet, tired & pleased to have finished
Fortunately, James the mini-bus driver was doing a few extra runs, and we got a seat on the next one to the jetty to cross the Kyle of Durness to Keodale, where a kind fellow passenger dropped Ian and I off in Durness. Thanks
Cool - a ferry to start and one to finish
We rested in a delightful B&B and celebrated in the local.
The next day Ian surprised me by taking me across the top of Scotland to Dunnet Head, the most northerly point of mainland Scotland, which was fitting as I’ve also been to Land’s End.
“From this angle I can see Old Man of Hoy, the whole of Scotland & England all the way to our flat in Brighton!”
Final pose
Zen at Dunnet Head
“So Zen, which part was your favourite? – the first part: drizzle, atmospheric moorlands and lochs, isolation, troublesome river crossings, falls & heartbreak, or the second part: blissful sun drenched long days, bright moorlands and expansive glens, stupendous wild camps, trekking friends & spicy beef jerky?”
“A tough one, but if I had to decide, the first part …. the true challenging Highlands!”
“So much of who we are, is where we have been & what we’ve experienced!”
"Thanks Ian for bringing me along."
"Couldn't have done it without you!"
I hope you have enjoyed my trip report.
Zen