Way back, in what seems like a galaxy far, far away, I wrote about a night when I was saved from hypothermia. A night when a soggy hiker stumbled upon a mostly intact shieling to shelter for the night. (See the July 28, 2017 post, which you should read first). The shieling was on the southern slopes of Beinn Rathacliet, four miles east of Carloway of Lewis. I had made the two-day hike in what became a failed attempt to find a beehive cell I'd read about in the area.
A reader recently asked if I ever found the cell. As the following story will relate, the short answer is, no. The long answer is, yes.
* * *
The failed hike occurred in July of 2017. Not finding the beehive was a big disappointment, and so a year later I once again tried to find it. It was August of 2018 when I set out from the end of the road at Pairc Siaboast, where I'd ended the one-night shieling walk the year before.
This time the pack was much lighter, as I was going to make an out-and-back day hike. I still did not know the location of the cell I'd sought the year before. But I thought there was a good chance I'd find it if I circled around Beinn Bhragair, where the map showed two large shieling sites: Gearraidh Choinnich and Gearraidh Mhàolan.
Under gray, unsettled skies, I started along the mile-and-a-half track that wends its way through Gleann Mòr Shiaboist. The track ended at the Shiaboist waterworks, where I started out across the moorland towards the saddle between Beinn Bhragair and Beinn Choinnich. It was then that things took a turn for the worse.
First came the wind. Then came the rain. Then came the exhaustion.
I'd not yet fully recovered from a three-day hike through Morsgail I'd completed the day before. It had been three days of wet weather and boggy terrain; three days that had sapped my strength. All that caught up to me five minutes after starting across the heathered terrain towards Beinn Bhragair when I stopped to put on waterproofs. Due to the rain and clouds, I could barely see my destination: the dark pass east of Beinn Bhragair. It was only a mile away, but the hard part was that I'd have to climb 500 feet. Easy peasy on a nice day, but at that moment, tired and sweating heavily in my rain gear, it felt as if I had to scale Everest.
I decided to turn back. I told myself it was because any photos taken on that wet and grey day would turn out wet and grey, and they would. But the truth was I was too old to carry on in those conditions. But old enough to know the right thing to do would be to come back on a better day the following year, when the journey would be something to enjoy, not endure.
Little did I know that COVID would have something to say about that. Several years were to pass before I once again traversed the heights of Beinn Bhragair to search for that elusive cell.
— Four Years Pass: It is now 2022 —
As it turned out, when I'd spent that rainy night in the shieling in 2017, I'd missed the cell I'd been seeking by a half mile. I learned that in the summer of 2021, just after Beehive Cell Dwellings of the Hebrides was published. I was contacted by James Crawford, who had restored the beehives of Cnoc Dubh and Eilean Fir Crothair. Among many other things, James told me the location of the cell. It was at Gearraidh Mhàolan, a shieling site south of the summit of Beinn Bhragair.
And so, in the summer of 2022, I once again walked the track to Siabost waterworks. But this time it was a dry day, not a rain cloud in sight. After traversing the west flank of Beinn Bhragair, I made the steep climb through bracken and heather to the saddle between Beinn Bhragair and Beinn Rathacleit. After cresting a few false summits, I came to a green, triangular-shaped oasis in the bog that overlooked a vast, level section of moorland. It would have been the perfect place to pitch a tent - a haven in the wilderness. And it was there that I found the elusive beehive (NB 2677 4284), along with the foundations of two other cells robbed of their stones long ago.
The beehive had obviously been tampered with. An iron pipe, possibly once used as a chimney by the cell's last occupants when it was a shieling, lay atop the ruin. Time had not been kind. The cell was reduced to about 75% of the height it had in a photo from the 1970s, and the interior was so clogged with stones fallen from the dome that there was no way to safely enter.
I left the cell and crossed the marshy saddle between Beinn Mhaol and Beinn Rathacleit, then descended to Uishal. On turning a corner, a familiar sight came into view: the shieling of my one night five years before.
It looked quite different, as it had been given some love since my last visit. The turf roof that had a big hole in it had been repaired and a fiberglass skylight installed. Also different was the door: there was one. In 2017, there was just an iron bar placed diagonally across the entrance to keep out the sheep. The shieling now sported a shiny aluminum door, held in place by that same iron bar. After removing the door, I stepped inside to discover that all the junk had been cleared away.
The next three photos show the interior as I found it in 2017. (The third photo shows the sheep skull that had grinned at me during that cold, restless night in 2017).
The following photos show the cleaned up interior found in 2022.
I was happy to discover that the eerie sheep skull had been given a proper burial somewhere. After securing the door firmly in place I started the three-mile walk back to the car.
