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.

Remote Hamanavay and Ardveg

After leaving Scarp we found a sheltered anchorage at the head of Loch Hamanavay (Haven Bay). This remote corner of Lewis is one of my favorite places in the isles. It was once a thriving backwater, several small settlements living off the sea. But, aside from an estate lodge, it has been abandoned since the 1950s.  Hamanavay, and the adjacent Ardveg Penninsula, see few visitors, as the only way to get here is by a hard 12 mile hike, or by boat.  (For a description of the hike from Uig see the February 17, 2015 post - for the hike in from Morsgail see the Ardveg Walk post.)

Adding to the sense of remoteness, we awoke to find the surrounding hills enshrouded in a dense, grey fog. It looked very prehistoric. It took two trips in the inflatable to get us ashore, where I was looking forward to taking the guests on a hike to the blackhouse village of Ardveg.

Hamanavay landing

Route to Ardveg

The hike to Ardveg starts easy enough, we just followed the estate track around to the head of the loch. The track ends at the estate house, where a soggy path leads a short distance farther to a footbridge over the Hamanavay River.

From the bridge a vague path traverses up the hillside, but it soon disappears into heather, rocks, and bracken. The view east to the vast, deserted interior of Lewis was expansive, and inviting. Just two miles to the northeast lies an amazing collection of sheiling ruins, including many intact beehive cells. But they would have to wait for another time. 

Looking northeast into the Lewis interior

The hill tops were still foggy as we climbed on, and after 15 minutes I didn't know it, but I missed the turn to the west that leads over the top to Ardveg. It was the sight of one of the old war-time telegraph poles that once stretched between Ardveg and Kinresort, and then a couple of collapsed beehive cells, that told me we'd gone too far east. It was time to make an about face to the west. Then a stiff climb up the grassy hillside, followed by a half-mile descent to near sea-level, finally brought us to the blackhouse village of Ardveg.

An Ardveg Panorama (photo Liz Hamilton)

The story of Ardveg was briefly told in Alasdair Alpin Macgregor's book The Haunted Isles; a wonderful book that ignited much of my interest, some 30 years ago, in the Hebrides. It inspired me to hike in to camp here for the first time 2001. Another visit was just as special, as it was part of the book launch for An Trusadh (The Gathering). Published by the Islands Book Trust in 2013, the book is the story of John Macdonald, whose family lived in Ardveg in the 1920s, 30s, and 40s (see the July 8, 2013 post.) Sadly, John passed away on Christmas Day 2016. John's sister Ina, who was born at Ardveg, also accompanied us in 2013, and if the weather cooperates, she will be returning to Ardveg as part of an Islands Book Trust event on July 15. 

We spent the better part of an hour exploring the old houses and the walled garden enclosure. Alan also took the opportunity to fly the drone over the village and down the track to the jetty once used by the MacDonalds.

Is it a drone - or a giant midge

Adjacent to the old blackhouses in the 'modern' house built by the MacDonalds in 1934. It is occasionally occupied by the artist Julie Brook and her family; the new owners of the Ardveg estate, which was sold just last year. Julie is well know for her stays in a Jura cave and Mingulay. I was hoping she'd be in residence, but no one was home.

Ardveg House (1934)

The mist was still thick on the hills as we left Ardveg to make the climb back up and over the hill. On the far side we paid a visit to the Hamanavay Mill before dropping down to sea-level and making our way back across the river to the shore track.

Mill

Hjalmar Bjorge afloat on the loch was a welcome sight to tired hikers, and we were soon back aboard. Sea and wind conditions were still unsettled to head out west to the Flannans, our ultimate hoped for destination. So the anchor was lifted and we set a course north. There was plenty of daylight left, and two islands were calling: mysterious Mealista, and Pabay Mor. 

Which would it be?

Hjalmar Bjorge at Hamanvay

Millstones 2

One of the most remote mills is near Hamanavay on Lewis. It lies in the Allt Grunavat, and unless you can manage a boat ride to Loch Hamanavay, it's a long eight mile hike to get there. The track to Hamanavay starts above the Uig Sands, and you can drive it a short ways, but a locked gate means you have to continue on foot. It's a daunting track to follow, with lots of ups and downs. The photo below gives you an idea of just how twisty it is, as it zigzags to the crest of Bealach Roansagail.

Once the pass is conquered the track plummets 1000 feet to sea level, and then comes to an end at Hamanavay Lodge.

Even though you have now hiked seven miles, there's still one to go. You cross the footbridge over the Hamanavay River, and then follow the river east until you reach the Allt Grunavat.  From there start climbing the hillside to Loch Grunavat. You will find the mill halfway up.

Amazingly, the millstones are still there.

Now that you've seen the mill you can either make the long hike back to Uig or, as I did last summer, continue on into the deserted hinterland of South Lewis to camp on a hilltop high above Loch Reasort.