The Highland Trail 550 – This 550 mile mtb route through the north
of Scotland has a fearsome reputation. One of the hardest bikepacking routes in
the UK, and raced every year at the end of May. Our mission for this adventure was
to recce the infamous northern loop to find out just how hard it really is. We
weren’t disappointed…
Remote, tough and incredible HT500 |
Some quick stats on our the trip…
1 little
meltdown
-2°C Overnight temperatures
3°C Minimum rating on my sleeping bag
6 Days of hail
75 Chocolate
brownie bites consumed
441 Kilometres biked/pushed
7,700 Meters climbed
Day 1 (drive shop drive) then Garve – Oykell Bridge
The day starts early with a long drive north. With any trip
there is an element of last minute panic buying… not wanting to do anything by
halves, we stop at two Tiso’s and a bike shop on our drive North. The forecast is to be colder than you’d expect
for early May so we buy extra layers in a panic.
Setting off - so excited, (the only photo where every thing is dry) |
Happily the forecast is not too rainy, however we will
quickly find out the forecast is a lie.
Setting off from Garve we’re on fast gravel tracks through
the forest, super excited about setting off on this long planned adventure. Pretty
soon we bump into a couple of riders coming to the end of their exploration of
the Highland Trail. We exchange notes and truck on, little did we know these
will be the only other riders we see all week. As we climb the mountains close
in on both sides and it begins to rain, and then to hail…
weather on the horizon |
Up and over again and we’re suddenly loch side and the valley
opens out. We’ve made good progress today. We find a wild camp spot just South of
Oykell bridge, hoping we can roll in there for second breakfast tomorrow.
Day 2 Oykell Bridge – Gobernuisgach Lodge
I wake up and it’s raining. I go back to sleep. When I wake
up it’s raining again. Peering out of the tent I can see the rain clouds as they
wash through the valley. We pack in a ‘break’ in the weather, unfortunately we’re
not fast enough, the next rain shower rolls in and everything is soaked.
Camp #1 during a break in the rain |
In Oykell Bridge we find the hotel bar closed, no second
breakfast here. Happily the lovely hotel leaves the door open to the loos. Finding
a tiny bit of mobile internet I start googling seat post information on my bike,
the saddle has been slipping down all morning. It seems a vital piece is
missing. By a stroke of luck, I turn the bike upside-down and the missing bit
falls out frame. Phew! (seriously Giant why don’t you use a normal clamp like
everyone else?)
Bike back in working order |
We ride on in the rain to Rosehall, the hotel is open and we
tuck in to a baked potato feast. It’s raining when we leave and a headwind has
picked up, wonderful. The next section is road so we ride peloton for about half
an hour; 2minutes on, 2 minutes off. Incidentally this is pretty close to my
gym routine, (if that routine included someone lobbing buckets of water over my
head). As the rain got heavier we spy a giant pipe by the side of the
road. We shelter in this until the rain go
off a bit.
Sheltering from the rain |
The next stretch is a steep road climb up switchbacks, with alternating
headwind, tailwind, headwind. Caroline is faster than me on the climb, and soon
out of sight. In an unspoken agreement, I know she’ll wait for me at the bottom
of the following descent. Hanging around at the top, in the wind and rain is a recipe
for hypothermia. I crest the climb into a face full of hail and begin cruising
downhill, pretty soon I spy an ATV by the side of the road. There’s someone in
the vehicle. Then I see the loaded bike in front of it.
Best. Shelter. Ever |
I pull up, unzip the tarp and climb into the driver seat.
Caroline is chuckling in the passenger seat. Best. Wind-shelter. Ever. There are
driving instructions on the dashboard and the keys are in the ignition…. I did
think about it.
Just so excited to be out of the weather |
Before long we reach the turning that will take up into Glen
Golly, we pause take a quick photo, and consult the map. The track to Gobernuisgach
should be fairly rideable, so we’ll aim to camp there and tackle the infamous
Glen Golly section tomorrow. The ride up the valley is probably quite
picturesque, but we can’t see anything in the clouds. We pass a rider in the
opposite direction, he was planning to bike+hike Ben Hope today, but the
weather is too awful and he’s turned around.
Literally everything is soaking. |
We reach Gobernuisgach lodge at about 7pm, it’s a big creepy
estate house in the middle of nowhere, only accessible by Landover track. It’s
still raining, so we try the doors to the outbuildings but they’re all locked,
apart from the door to the meat hanging shed. We are cold, wet and tired, but
not desperate enough to stay there!
Trying to dry everything (Caroline burns her shoe) |
We ride on a little and pitch by the side of a forest track. There’s a break in the rain so we build a fire to dry our shoes and gloves. Of course, the only paper we have to start the fire are the pages of map I printed out. Desperate times.
In the morning the rain has eased off. This is good because
if my research was right we’re about to start one of the hardest sections. I
pull on my damp socks and we set off up Glen Golly, it starts out ridable but
quickly we’re pushing our bikes up the bealach. The weather is intermittently hail
and sunshine, which is relatively speaking rather nice. Hail at least bounces
off. When the clouds clear we can even see Ben Hope in the background.
Peat hags, not fun |
We descend through peat hags to our next river
crossing. A few of these are rather large and
it take two of us to man-handle (lady-handle?) our bikes down. Down by the river the sun comes out – lovely –
because this is a shoes-and-socks-off sort of river crossing. Flip flops on we
cross the river. On the other side we sit down for a spot of lunch.
river crossing fun |
Just as we finish eating a hail storm rolls in and we get
moving again, it’s another push to the top of Bealach Horn, but the descent was
one of my favourites of the trip. Clean swoopy track down to Loch Stack.
Here I realise I’ve made a mental mistake, I thought we had
2 big pushes today, and we were done climbing. There is another 400m climb to
get us over to Kylesku – dammit. I eat a few more brownie bites summon up some
energy and think about the hot meal I will eat at the Kylesku hotel. It feels
like a long push to the top, the map marks a shieling at the high point, as
shelters go it’s rather disappointing.
Views across to Kylesku |
We enter the bar, the staff tell us they are fully booked
for dinner and we can sit down for 10 mins for a coffee, but then they need the
table. I am cold and wet and tired and hungry. To say I was unhappy would be an
understatement at this point.
Caroline looks at the map and then looks at me “do you think
you can ride another 10km, that’s the next point with decent wildcamp potential”.
I’m feeling miserable, however
there isn’t really an alternative, so I say yes and we set off. In fact, While Caroline
goes to the loo, I even check to see if there are any B&Bs nearby – all fully booked. We ride up and down the
coast road to find the turn off where we’ll camp. Feeling a bit sorry for myself, I may have had a tiny cry on the journey. (Don’t feeling sorry for me though- I chose
to be here after all). As we ride the sun comes out and the wind dies down, it
doesn’t make everything better, but I stop feeling quite so miserable (and feel a bit silly for having a meltdown).
Caroline locates an ace wild camp spot, flat grass, beside a
river, and sunset views over a loch. I ruefully eat my dehydrated meal (sigh),
get some water on the boil for my hot water bottle (never used one camping
before but, so grateful I carried one!)
bringing a hot water bottle - the best decision |
Part 2