The Hamnavay Track and Beyond - Day 1

I have posted before on the Burma Road of Lewis, also known as the Hamnavay Track (see the Feb 17, 2015 post). It is a 10-mile unpaved road, gouged out of the moorland and hills in the interior of Uig, that leads from Ardroil to Hamnavay Lodge.

I have walked this road about 10 times over the past 20 years. After each time I tell myself I'll never walk it again. It is a hellish grind, this long and winding road, with its seemingly never ending series of false summits. It saps your strength - especially if you are carrying a pack with 30 pounds of gear to camp for several days. But I always seem to end up walking it again, as it is the quickest way to access the remote interior of Uig.

And so, last month, I decided to walk it yet again, in order to visit some of the shieling sites that dot the moorland in the Ardveg. An hour into the walk I came to the gate that was installed when they built the road in 1999 to prevent riff-raff (like me) from driving the road. On all my previous walks the gate had been locked, and so I was surprised to find it propped open.

Another surprise awaited two miles past the open gate: it was another gate, one that had been installed since my last walk this way in 2017. This gate was locked, but I was happy to see they'd provided a bypass for walkers around one of the posts. I had no idea at the time why they'd built this second gate. But I was to learn why in a few days. (I do not know the details, but it seems the old gate blocked access someone legally had to the nearby moorland lochs, so they have to move the road blockade a couple of miles south.)

As I passed around the locked gate I wondered what other surprises awaited; I would have to wait three hours to find out, as that's how long it took to climb the pass (1000 ft), and then make the descent to Loch Tamnavay.

The surprise was yet another new, and locked gate, blocking the track just before it reached Hamnavay Lodge. Not only was it locked, but there was no way for a walker to get around it. If I'd had wire cutters I'd have clipped the barbed-wire on one side of the gate to get past, as it in not legal to block access like this. But lacking cutters, there was nothing to do but climb the nearly 5-foot-high gate. I have always respected their privacy when walking in this area, staying as far from the lodge as possible, and I have always checked with the Estate Manager when passing this way in hunting season, and so this gate made me mad. Respect has to be two ways, and this onerous locked gate was a blatant sign of disrespect.

Once over the locked gate, and past the lodge, I crossed the footbridge over the Tamnavay River. Then a climb up the hillside to the south led to Loch Grunavat. After seven hours of hiking I was nearing my destination for the night, the beehive cells of Bothan Aird: a place I'd been to before, but had never spent the night. 

From Loch Grunavat I followed several of the petrified WWI telegraph poles to the east, then headed up the slopes of Cliet nam Bothan Aird.

Near the summit of Cliet nam Bothan Aird I came to its two beehives cell, one of which is 100% intact. I had been considering sleeping in the cell, but its floor was covered with stones and wet moss, so I pitched the tent next to the cell. 

I then enjoyed supper, and the can of beer I'd lugged for 12 miles, while sitting at the summit of the hill. The cell-dwellers here had a fantastic view west to the Atlantic and the island of Scarp.

The night was exciting. Around midnight a storm blew up, and I was glad I'd securely staked down the the tent. After putting in earplugs to drown out the howling wind, I managed to get back to sleep. I would need the rest. The plan for the next day was to head farther inland to spend the next night at Fidigidh, a cluster of shielings, some used up until WWII.

To the Flannans!

I was browsing through photos from my last trip to Lewis and came across this one that brought a smile to my face; a 'toast' to the Flannan Isles, made from the slopes of Mealaisbhal. (The Flannans can be seen on the horizon.) Two months earlier we had been fortunate to land there during my guide trip on Hjalmar Bjorge. There is one spot left for next year's cruise, which will visit the islands to the south and west of Mull. See the Northern Lights website for more information.

Slainte - To the Flannans!

Here is a very abridged version of the Flannan poem by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson. You can find the full text at this link.

Though three men dwell on Flannan Isle

To keep the lamp alight,

As we steer'd under the lee, we caught

No glimmer through the night!

We landed; and made fast the boat;

And climb'd the track in single file,

Each wishing he was safe afloat,

On any sea, however far,

So it be far from Flannan Isle:

And still we seem'd to climb, and climb,

As though we'd lost all count of time,

And so must climb for evermore.

Yet, all too soon, we reached the door--

The black, sun-blister'd lighthouse door,

That gaped for us ajar.

Yet, as we crowded through the door,

We only saw a table, spread

For dinner, meat and cheese and bread;

But all untouch'd; and no one there:

As though, when they sat down to eat,

Ere they could even taste,

Alarm had come; and they in haste

Had risen and left the bread and meat:

Aye: though we hunted high and low,

And hunted everywhere,

Of the three men's fate we found no trace

Of any kind in any place,

But a door ajar, and an untouch'd meal,

And an overtoppled chair.

We seem'd to stand for an endless while,

Though still no word was said,

Three men alive on Flannan Isle,

Who thought on three men dead.

The Temple-Tomb of Rum

I've only had the pleasure of visiting Harris on Rum twice. The first time was in 1997, when my wife and I made the 12-mile round trip walk from Kinloch Castle. The second time was on a circumnavigation of the south half of Rum made in 2000 (see chapter 28 of book 1).

The weather in 2000 was atrocious, gray skies and a constant drizzle, which made for dreary photos. But the first visit, in '97, was on a hot spring day. So hot that when my wife and I reached Harris we put two cans of beer in the nearby Glen Duian River to get cold. The goal of the walk was to see the most bizarre grave sites in the Hebrides, the Bullough's Temple-tomb. Here are a few photos from that amazing day afoot on Rum.

Harris Lodge and the Bullough's Temple-Tomb at Harris

Looking to the western sea from Harris

The meager remnant of the Bullough's original hillside cave-tomb can be seen to the left of the temple

John Bullough's memorial

A beer cools in the Glen Duian River (at bottom)

Getting to Eigg

These days you walk onto the ferry at Mallaig, and then walk directly onto Eigg via the ferry Lochnevis. Prior to that the Loch Mor waited off Glamisdale, and passengers and supplies were loaded onto the flit-boat MV Ulva. I never had the pleasure of doing that. The only time I saw MV Ulva was while returning from Rum in June of 2000. After departing from Rum, MV Loch Mor stopped off of Eigg, and several people, and pallets of supplies - food, beer and coal - were loaded onto Ulva.

Ulva underway off Glamisdale

The Ulva approaches Loch Mor

All the necessities: beer, cider, crisps and coal

MV Ulva - Kildonan Church can be seen in the trees on the hillside

Another way to get to Eigg was (and is) via MV Sheerwater out of Arisaig. I have taken the Sheerwater on two occasions. Once was from Arisaig to Eigg (book 1, chapter 24), and the other time was a trip from Eigg to Muck and back (book 1, chapter 26). Unfortunately I have no photos of her at Eigg, but here are two from Muck. 

Sheerwater passing the RO/RO slip as it approaches Muck

Amy of Muck and Sheerwater at the old Port Mor jetty

The days of the flit-boats are gone, and MV Lochnevis is the main way to get to Eigg. From a tourist standpoint that makes the journey less of an adventure, but for those who have to make the journey regularly it's a good thing.

Although I've taken Lochnevis to Eigg, the only photos of her I have were taken while hiking in the hills east of Mallaig. The last photo was taken from the slopes of Cruach Mhalaig, and shows Lochnevis tied up to the pier. Also shown are the ferries MV Western Isles and the Mallaig-Armadale ferry (it think it's MV Coruisk).

Mallaig Harbour with the MV Western Isles, MV Lochnevis and MV Coruisk

When You Wish Upon a ...

There are a few wishing stones scattered around the Hebrides, and a wish I made at one of them actually came true. 

The wish I made while seated on the Brownie's Stone of Cara did not come true. It was a hot day, and after taking a seat on the stone I made a wish. I then dug a can of beer out of my pack, only to find that my wish had not been granted, the beer was warm. Perhaps the Brownie does not of approve of drinking. Although warm, the beer still hit the spot.

Making a wish on the Brownie's Stone - Isle of Cara

On my first visit to Staffa I was so excited to see Fingal's Cave that I walked right past Fingal's Wishing Chair without noticing it. But on my next visit I took the time to sit in the chair and make a wish. That wish did come true, for when I went into Fingal's Cave I had it all to myself.

Fingal's Wishing Chair - Isle of Staffa

I am sure Robert Lewis Stevenson visited the Erraid Wishing Stone in his early days, but whether he stood on it and made a wish to be a writer, as is often said, I do not know. I have to admit that I did not stand on the stone, as that requires jumping over the small moat that surrounds it. Like the ringing stone on Tiree, the Erraid stone looks like a glacial erratic. I do not know if it also rings, but next time I'm on Erraid I'll find out.

Wishing Stone - Isle of Erraid

The Berneray King-Stone

There are several inauguration stones in Scotland. The most famous is the Stone of Scone; stolen by Edward I in 1296, and placed under the Coronation Chair in Westminster Abbey until it was returned to Scotland in 1996. Although there are many who believe the stone Edward took was a fake, and that the true stone is still hidden in the Hebrides.

The early rulers of Argyll and the Islands had their own inauguration stones, with a footprint carved in them where the King-To-Be would place his foot. Dunadd is the best known of these, and if you make the easy climb to the top of the hill you will find a footprint. But if you put your foot in it you will not be following in the footstep's of kings; for the true stone-footprint lies under the concrete replica that caps the hill, lifted in place by a helicopter.

I've only heard of two inauguration stones in the Hebrides, both of them associated with the Lords of the Isles. The best known was on an island in Loch Finlaggan (Islay); but you can not put your foot on it these days, as at some point in time it was destroyed. The other Lord of the Isles' stone is on Berneray (Sound of Harris). The Berneray stone is near Cladh Maolruibhe (the burial ground of St Mealrubha), which lies atop a hill called Beinn a' Chlaidh (see this RCAHMS link for more). The site is easy to find as it has an eight-foot-tall standing stone.

Berneray Standing Stone - Pabbay in the distance

The Berneray Stone

One-hundred meters southwest of Cladh Maolruibhe is a jumble of stones that may have once been a large cairn. In amongst them lies a large slab with what I thought at the time had the form of a footprint chiseled out on top. It was not much of a footprint, appearing to have flaked away over the centuries. My boot fit, sort of, and so I celebrated my inauguration with a can of beer. 

Update April 27, 2021: I learned in 2021, many years after the visit described above, that the actual footprint stone lies  at NF 9116 8059, some 90 meters east of the stone I found - see this link. So I can no longer clam to be Lord of the Isles.

The Footprint Stone - or so I thought

A close fit - only off by 90 metres

Gemini - 1

I have fond memories of the catamaran Gemini. Between 2002 and 2005 I chartered her five times. Back then she was owned by Mike Murray, who ran the boat out of Crinan. These days she's under different ownership and does day trips from Tobermory. The first time I charted Gemini, Mike dropped me off on the south shore of Scarba near the Corryvreakan Whirlpool. I spent the day wondering across Scarba and climbing to the top of the island. The day was capped by an exciting ride through the whirlpool before returning to Crinan (see book 1, chapter 6).

The other trips I took on Gemini were to Eilean Mor (of St Carmaig); the four Garvelach Islands of Dun Connel, Garbh Eileach, Eileach an Naoimh and Cul-i-Brennain; Belnahua and Fladda of the Slate Isles; and a camping trip to the north end of Jura. Below are a few photos of the trip to Scarba. Over the coming days I will share photos from the other trips.

Mini whirlpool off the stern of Gemini

In the centre of the Whirlpool

Gemini coming in to take me off Scarba

My wife happy so see me safely back to Crinan

Automatic cattle feeder on Scarba - Kilmory Lodge in the distance

Happy Hour on top of Scarba

Drochaid Scalpaigh - Scalpay Bridge

This is the 1000-foot-long Scalpay Bridge, which opened in 1997. The first photo was taken from MV Chalice on a Hebridean cruise I took in 2006. We motored under the bridge on our way to find an anchorage south of Tarbert (Harris).

As we passed under the bridge I noticed this group of young people fishing off the base of the Scalpay end of the bridge. I promised myself that someday I'd visit that spot.

It took me seven years to make good on that promise. In June of 2013 I spent five nights on Scalpay. On the evening of one of those days I put a can of beer and a bag of crisps in my pack, wandered over to the north end of the island, and then descended the grassy hillside below the bridge. 

At the base of the bridge I took a seat on the spot where I had seen those folks fishing seven years before. I cracked open the beer, ripped open the bag of crisps, and then enjoyed them as I listened to the bridge sing. It was windy, and the bridge acted like the string of a bass; a low frequency groan that came and went with the wind. I sat there for an hour, and then made my way back to the B&B (Dail na Mara). I tend to overuse the term 'memorable', but it was indeed a memorable evening.

Barra Campsite

On occasion I roll the dice and go to Scotland with a tent and sleeping bag. The gamble is if the checked luggage with all my camping gear will make it over the Atlantic. Three times now my bags have been lost, so I usually come over with only carry-on. Much less stress. But that means the tent and sleeping bag have to stay home.

But the times when my gear did not get lost were memorable. Here is a photo of a Barra Campsite near Dun Ban, just south of the white sands of Halaman Bay. The first photo shows camp set up with all the essentials at hand: water, beer, and uisge-beatha. The second photo was taken later that day, an hour before the sun set over the Atlantic. Conditions were ideal, so at sunset I looked for the Green Ray, but it did not occur.

Flannan Isles 6

We will say goodbye to the Flannans from the top of the island. Eilean Mor has two summits: the eastern one with the lighthouse, and the west summit with its cairn and puffins, which is where the fellow in the photo is heading.  

On the way to the west summit

View from the west summit

This hefty cairn marks the top of the west summit. The next landfall is St Kilda, some 50 miles away, then Rockall, another 200 miles out. A beer was called for to celebrate getting onto the island - Slainte Mhor!

Happy Hour on the Flannans

The Beacon Cairn of Killegray

The summit of Killegray has a unique cairn. As you can see there is a large opening at the base, and another higher up. I was told that this was so a fire could be lit inside. It was either a navigation beacon...or maybe a barbecue...

As I said yesterday, the owners of Killegray are not too keen on visitors, especially beer-swilling island-baggers like the fellow in the next picture.

Inchkenneth 4

From the chapel we head down to the Humpies, an interesting bit of lumpy terrain at the south end of the island.

The Humpies

In the Humpies you will find dozens of hidden declivities and tidepools. You will also find views out to the Treshnish Isles and Staffa.

Staffa seen from the Humpies

After exploring the Humpies we climb to the summit of the island, 160 feet above the sea. The climb wore me out, so I paused to enjoy my standard island snack - a beer and bag of crisps. I wonder if MacEwen's or Walkers would be interested in sponsoring some island trips. I have several  photos of this fellow sitting on island summits enjoying a red-tinny of Export along with a bag of smoky-bacon.

Atop Inchkenneth