Scotland Summer Trip 1998 – The Skyes the Limit!

Weeks of planning by a devoted committee had finally come to a head as the highly select band of hard-core Explorers boarded the coach for the 16-hour journey to Skye. Unfortunately, the committee hadn't planned the weather and our arrival in the island`s second biggest village of Broadford was met by the first of what proved to be many torrential downpours. We silently cursed Emily who had taken the wimps option of `hostelling/no-walking' tourist way of seeing Skye and decided that option did indeed have some merit after all. The situation worsened as we arrived at our first night's campsite where the infamous Scottish midges decided to attack even those of us wearing industrial strength insect repellent and the legendary views of the Cuillins range remained a legend, hidden beneath a mass of impenetrable cloud.

The first camp meal.

So in true Explorers style, we beat a hasty retreat to the warmth, comfort and midge-free hospitality of the pub adjacent to the campsite and, several leisurely pints and a game or two of `whirl-pool' later, the group's spirits began to rise again.

The sun rose over our first full day in Skye, at least we presume it did but the dense and low cloud refused to move and so a valley walk along Glen Sligachan to break us in gently was the order of the day. Light rucksacks meant the 15 mile round trip to Loch Coruisk seemed to fly by and lunch was spent between the sea and the loch, watching a seal play in the shadow of the Black Cuillins.

The next day was our first day walking with full packs on(extremely heavy packs in Andy's case and mine as we were `soloing' ) but the relatively short walk around the base of the still unseen peaks of the Cuillins was hampered by wind, rain and thousands more midges. Camp that night was by a scenic beach but hopes of a fire were quite literally damped by the encroaching storm and the night was spent in the tents.

Glen Brittle Camp Site on one of the rare occasions when it wasn't raining.

However, all was not lost as the `Dave and Ben' comedy duo entertained us from the comfort of their tent all evening with their anecdotes on `life, the universe and everything'. Suddenly, that just made us realise that the worsening weather conditions really weren't as bad as their sense of humour and, in the absence of a local pub to escape to, the rest of the group attempted sleep whilst they rambled on into the night. The following day saw no change in the weather so yet again, our attempts to ascend some of the Cuillins was thwarted and a short afternoon walk along the coast and base of the range was all that we achieved that day.

This waterfall is at the foot of the Cuillin mountain range.

With morale at an all time low and Dan and Simon's tent starting to break, it was decided the next day over a breakfast meeting in the gents shower block to abandon this hard-core camping idea a day early for the more usual Explorers accommodation of a hostel. The team pulled together to strike camp in record time and headed for the nearest bus stop which was about 12 kilometres away (give or take 2km wasn't it Dave?!).

A view of Glen Brittle, seen on our walk to Portree.

Having been told the time of the last bus to the island's capital Portree by a seemingly well informed lady from the Tourist Office, we made good time only to find that no such bus existed and we were left stranded. With the joys of camping and Dave and Ben's sense of humour both wearing extremely thin on the rest of the group, taxis were ordered at great additional expense and we begged our way into a very nice independent hostel for the next two nights. Thinking all was now well with the world, we found a local bar in the midst of a Scottish World Cup game and tried to settle down for a quiet pint until a fire in a near by shopping bag led to some of the group being questioned by the police! Who says the Explorers Club runs dull trips?

The mood lightened again over the next day in Portree, helped by a tour around the Talisker Whisky Distillery, the arrival of a vivacious Blossom and rounded off with fish and chips and several bottles of wine that night.

An evening walk in the now glorious sunshine revealed at last the imposing Cullin range to the south and we could finally see what we had camped at the foot of for 4 days but had never had the chance to ascend.

Group photo at sunset in Portree.

Thus our final assault on Skye began the next morning in fine weather and involved a slow climb along a ridge from Portree to 'The Storr,' the highest point on the Trotternish ridge of northern Skye.

The view seen from the southern part of the Trotternish ridge. In the distance are the Cuillins, which dominate the skyline of any part of Skye."

The top of the Storr. A long time was spent admiring the magnificent views.

As is usual on these trips, the task of navigation was left to the more `experienced' and `competent' members of the club. Thus it was no surprise to the rest of us all that we added at least 5 km to our walk that day through unnecessary contouring around hills that had obviously just been `misplaced' on chief navigators Dan and Andy's maps. The wild camp for that night was situated at about 500m, just below the foot of the Storr and we were rewarded with fantastic views of the other hills and lochs of Skye and north-western Scotland as we watched the sunset.

Our wild camp site.

The good weather continued the next day as we proceeded along the `undulating' ridge (the guidebook's words, not mine!) but the views more than compensated for the walk that everyone (apart from `mountain goats' Rob and Simon with ridiculously light rucksacks) was finding tough going.

What an `undulating' ridge looks like.

An example of the type of effect an `undulating' ridge has!

It was a tired, sore and quite sunburnt group that arrived at Uig youth hostel on that final evening but badly bruised feet have never been known to stop an Explorer in search of a pint. Thus a final rucksack-free trek was made to a local inn for a slap-up meal where the luxury of somebody else having to do the washing up for the first time in a week was much appreciated by all.

Our return to Bristol the next day was uneventful apart from a brief stop-over in Glasgow where Emily rejoined the group having the cheek to look as tired after all her socialising as we did after all our walking! Revenge was exacted as we proceeded to relate all our experiences of the past week to her in great detail. It had been a week when we had encountered extreme weather conditions, some tough terrain and some terrible jokes but we had pulled together as a team when it mattered and close-knit group had been formed. The enthusiasm with which the exhausted group recounted these stories demonstrated that the week was a success and I attribute this to the highly individual characters in the group who made my first Explorers summer trip so memorable!

This Web page was originally created by Dan Towner from a HikUp writeup by Kate Marks. All photos by Dan Towner.

[an error occurred while processing this directive]