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Bothy nights on route of the Cape Wrath Trail


By Ben MacGregor

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OUT AND ABOUT WITH RALPH Kayaking out to a remote bothy – despite the challenges of the wind – for a wild and wonderful time in sublime surroundings

Glendhu Bothy.
Glendhu Bothy.

Travel about 120 miles from Thurso around the North Coast 500 – it doesn’t matter whether you go west or south (turning off via Lairg) and you’ll arrive at Kylesku, I still think ferry but now bridge.

I first arrived here on foot nearly 50 years ago, walking what is now known as the Cape Wrath Trail. All around is some of the emptiest and most spectacular scenery the Highlands, or even the world, has to offer.

NC500 tourists who don’t know the Highlands are simply blown away.

Maybe ‘blown away’ is not such a great metaphor here. East of the new bridge the twin sea-lochs of Glencoul and Glendhu cut for miles into steep-sided mountains and create funnels which amplify any breeze.

In calm conditions it is such an easy sea-kayak trip from the old ferry slips up to the bothies at the head of the two lochs. But many is the occasion when strong kayakers have been forced to turn back by stronger winds.

Paddling up Loch Glencoul.
Paddling up Loch Glencoul.

I drove down the pass from the south towards Kylesku, thinking of the several occasions when I’ve slogged along this road on foot under a heavy pack, bound for the high Bealach a Chornaidh on Quinag.

For days the forecast for this part of the world had been a gentle force three south-easterly of at most 12mph. I suspected the reality would be otherwise, and was not surprised to see the lochs covered in white horses.

The northern slip of the old ferry is the best place to launch a sea-kayak, the southern slipway is under the hotel windows and busy with tourists and cars. But you need to brave a ‘no vehicle access’ sign to wind along the narrow track which once was the main road.

Warm March sun shone from an unbroken blue sky. The wind had dropped a little. I set off, I could always turn back. A spring tide was racing westwards out through the narrows, once clear of this it was just the wind to contend with, slow progress past fish-farms and then across to the point where the two lochs split. I’d hoped to carry on up to Glencoul bothy but the southern loch was full of whitecaps, Glendhu to the north should be easier.

Views towards Loch Glendhu.
Views towards Loch Glendhu.

The afternoon wind was picking up, gusts would flatten the water and stop me but I made progress in the lulls. Slowly the bothy drew nearer, I was much too hot paddling hard in the sun but needed to be dressed for immersion in very cold water, just in case. I began to think I’d make it and indeed the last effort was to haul the boat a long way up from the low tide mark to the bothy.

It’s actually an easy walk out to Glendhu from Kylestrome, you only really need the kayak to reach the much remoter Glencoul. Both bothies sit amid Highland scenery of the highest order and are now popular stops on the Cape Wrath Trail.

The wind had evidently not seen the forecasts and continued to get up, it was to be a night of roaring wind and rattling doors. By morning it was gusting force eight, the loch white with clouds of spray while the boat had been picked up from the sheltered spot I’d left it and rolled a fair way, fortunately not into the water. South-east winds funnel up Loch Shin, gather strength over the mountain then howl down these sea-lochs. I had food for another night so set off for a walk up the glen.

In spite of the gale it was another morning of unbroken blue sky. A good track heads up Gleann Dubh by rapids over huge boulders and a high fall tumbling from the south.

It would be spectacular indeed in a spate, the scenery resembled pictures I’ve seen of the Himalayas. Slowly gaining height into the wind, I followed the track then path up into the hills to high lochans under the snowy top of Beinn Leoid. All around were the remote peaks and wintry yellows and browns of Sutherland, it was a long way from anywhere.

Back at the bothy the sun was hot and, the wind now going down, I decided to make the most of the lull. Soon I had the boat packed and was heading back down the sunlit loch, helped along by what was now little more than a gentle breeze.

I drove north on empty roads, past sparkling lochs and blue seas, high peaks glowing red in the setting sun.

There would just be time to walk out to another bothy before dark fell.

Paddling back to Kylesku in the afternoon sun.
Paddling back to Kylesku in the afternoon sun.
Launch at Kylesku.
Launch at Kylesku.
Loch Glendhu.
Loch Glendhu.

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