June 14 – 28 1992 Written near Cape Wrath on 23rd June 1992

An intimate meeting with a sheep!
Fortunately Christine liked a bit of the wild, but our first camping experience set a strange standard of experience that would continue in future adventures. A late start meant we were tired and ready for our first camping experience together in a suitably remote wild camping spot off Glencoe, and we turned west down the dead end road of Glen Etive, knowing there would be no through traffic. Unfortunately lots of passing places on the single track road had a car or tent or campervan, others had the same idea of quiet remoteness. Eventually we found a beautiful and remote patch beside the road with a fast flowing burn falling over a small waterfall and some flat ground on which to pitch the tent.

We fell asleep to the peaceful sound of gently running water only to be woken later in the night by something, like the sound of lashing water ! After five weeks of drought and burning sun the weather must have changed the night we arrived in our new tent, never previously used but guaranteed storm proof, so surely OK, go back to sleep.

It was not only our first night in this new tent but our first night under canvas together so we hoped that the storm was not an omen. However we wondered about omens later that night when after a fitful sleep we heard a sheep nearby seeming to be in distress, occasionally giving a peculiar short sharp “maa”. It was very near and quite disturbing so I shouted at it to shut up and it did for maybe an hour, then suddenly it was there again with this complaining “maa”. We were a bit fed up because the tent was getting buffeted by the storm and the wind and lashing rain had kept us both awake. But still this “maa” carried on, disturbing the cosy warmth of being cocooned in my warm sleeping bag on this summer night.

Eventually I had enough and sat up and wriggled to the tent door and stuck my head round the front flap of the tent – and literally was nose to nose with a frightened sheep that had its horns caught in the guy ropes, now trying desperately to run away, and in so doing trying to pull the tent apart!

I slid quickly back into the tent so as not to frighten it but had to act quickly. “There’s a sheep caught in the guy ropes” I told a befuddled Christine, “Quick, pass me that knife.” “Huh?” she says. “No I’m not going to kill it, but I might need to cut the guys” Time was of the essence as the poor animal became even more panicked by our voices and it struggled so much that the new tent was in danger of being destroyed on its first night.

So I jumped out of the sleeping bag, rushed out of the tent, grabbed the sheep by the horns and straddled the sheep to wrestle it to the ground while I unwrapped the guy line. Honestly, it was such an emergency that I didn’t have time to get dressed, and it was so hot in that sleeping bag that I slept naked. My vision of the sheep running down the glen was now replaced by the vision of me naked, mounted on a sheep with a knife in my hand.

And with that Your Honour, I rest my case.
………………..

Buchaille Etive Beag
After the incident with the sheep, walking could be an anti-climax but not so. We were uncertain about the weather but decided to risk Buchaeille Etive Beag from the West end. 1hr 45 to the furst top and 4hrs45 altogether, 3mph and 1 hr per 1750ft of ascent, a fast pace for a first day.

We had promised to stay what night with Ann and Robin who work on an estate called Ardtornish by Loch Aline at the ferry crossing across the Sound of Mull. The estate is 60 miles square and has farm tourism and a huge typical Scottish round tower and gabled mansion. We walked over a remote peninsula to the coast and returned by some off route deer tracks so that we could follow a ridge that had views across the sea. It was quite hard going and we were out with Zilla the dog for 6hrs 30. We saw the most huge dragonfly, black and yellow, on the path and it rested long enough for me to get my film camera out of the rucksack, focus and … the dog stood on it ! We saw many of them about 5 inches long and at the local nature reserve the warden said that they were the largest in Europe.

We descended to the sea and stripped off and sunbathed and just as I put the binoculars to my eyes, Chris said that this is the sort of place that you see seals, and one surfaced immediately in front of my and swam to us to inspect us, then swam off. I asked it to summon some more friends.

The wildlife in the general area is so unused to people that a buzzard continued to sit on a fence post by the side of the road even when we reversed to get a closer look and say hello. At Loch Aline there are always herons on guard where the river runs into the loch. Lots of common sandpipers, stonechat and even a Hobby, yep sure was. Shame about the dead Gannet but the Plover that was leading us across the moors away from its nest was clever. Robin took me for a row in the boat he uses when he takes clients fishing and although he never caught anything, the small fish were jumping out of the water so much that I could have caught them mid air with a net.

The castle in the estate was ruined though later it was totally renovated for a marriage and family home. The castle on the coast road at Dorlin past Strontian and the remains of the Broch and the sandy shore and the sea inlet joining the waterfall where the pool is full of migrating salmon … memories.

We crossed to Mull on the ferry. The wild mountain thyme on the slopes of Ben More on Mull and the Striding Edge type of ridge to ascend it. The curlews buzzing the crows at the foot of the mountain. Ptarmigan hopped ahead of us on the path up the mountain. Fish farms galore but wonderful fresh brown trout and rainbow trout at Robin and Ann’s. Orchids, marsh, common spotted, lesser butterfly. Honeydew, flycatcher, butterwort. Oh the fossil burn, yes, a fast flowing burn had eroded a bed of fossilised sea shells so it is not admitted that I have the same shells from a nearby beach and from the fossilised beach. Tennyson’s Falls.

We crossed back to the mainland and continued north to the most northerly Ben More with a Broch beside it where we camped. The slog up to the top was in mist for the last part wo it was more of a fitness challenge and peak bagging than a nice day out, not the sort of thing that we relish. At the bottom of the mountain beside our campsite was a waterfall with a pool so we stripped off for a cold strip wash.

In the morning I opened the tent flap to find a deer with big antlers grazing quietly in the flat ground that we were on. I wasn’t bothered about its horns getting tangled in the guys this time but I did want to photograph it and the car was a few feet away, so I tried a commando crawl to the car to get the camera but of course it sensed me and ran away.

We found a wooded campsite below An Teallach which was a risky choice because it was so windy that I thought the tent would get blown away on open ground so I selected a wood, but with the risk of branches falling on us. Another site was above the loch at Clashessie and again we had a refreshing naked loch wash. The next site was at Oldshoremore by it was so wet and windy! The nature reserve at Tarbet opposite Handa Island was a good site. Driving was interesting with one of the main roads signed “closed for the duration”. A geology student gave us a good explanation of faulting and thrusts in limestone and explained the long journey of Scotland from the South Pole according to the Ardtornish geology leaflet, but the red rock extrusion at Oldshormore showed some of the geology that I nearly understood. On the way down from Ben More of Assynt the burn disappeared, limestone caves underneath? Smoo Cave at Durness was huge and must have seen Vikings and smugglers.

Our worst rough site was in a field near a stream with deciduous trees overhanging the stream, a quiet wind free spot with soft grass. But the wind free means freedom for the midges to come out and plague us. Chris ended up cooking with her cotton sheet sleeping bag over her body and me ready to throw water on her if it caught fire!

Eventually we ended our mountaineering and camping and went to see friends in Forres who Chris knew from Air Force mountain rescue and whisky, hangover and gardens are the main memory.

Places: Carlisle – Stirling – Glencoe.
Glencoe to Corran Ferry to Ardgour Peninsula to Localine.
Dorlin Castle and Acaracle and Strontian.
Walk to Eigneg over Morven
Mull Ben Hope with rush to get the ferry back to Localine.
Fort William to Great Glen to lochs, see end of Highland Cross race at Beauly – 20mile run, 26 mile cycle with first place in 3hrs 30.
Treated ourselves at Lochinver Riverside Bistro. Broccoli soup, venison in rich mushroom sauce, haddock with herbs, coffee marnier gateau, coffee. How am I supposed to put the tent up now! I’d sleep on an anthill (I shouldn’t tempt fate, the midges will give a suitable impression of ants!)
And so to bed, Quiraig tomorrow.

[Site was at the end of the road slightly away from someone’s garden]