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| Rainbows and Rain and Wind |
Rain and a strong north wind greeted me as I set off at dusk
on the Am Mam track to Camasunary, a lovely bay in the midst of the mountains
on the south coast of Skye. I saw little in the darkness as I climbed to the broad
pass then descended more steeply to the seashore. Just one set of bright lights
– red, white and green – hung mysteriously in the air far away. Only when I
reached the beach did I realise they must belong to a boat moored out in the
bay. A few weaker lights marked tents pitched on the wind-rustled grasses just
above the shore. A cluster of them surrounded Camasunary bothy and there were
lights inside. I found a pitch away from the others and wrestled against the
wind to erect my tent, glad I’d brought a strong and stable, if heavy, geodesic
dome that I knew would make less noise and shake less than lighter tents. The
wind was not unexpected.
Rain on nylon is just as noisy whatever tent you have though
and heavy bursts woke me several times during the night. Dawn came grey and
wet. The grasses bent and swayed outside the tent. The sky was dark and heavy,
the clouds sweeping over the summit of Sgurr na Stri, a rocky little 494 metre
hill that rises steeply above Camasunary. The higher hills were hidden. Out of
the tent I felt the full force of the cold north wind, stronger now than the
night before. I checked the anemometer. Some gusts were over 30mph. That’s when it
starts to have a noticeable effect on walking. Higher up the wind would be much
stronger. No hills today unless the wind lessened.
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| The new Camasunary bothy. The old one can be seen far left. |
The old white-washed bothy at the west end of the bay is one
I’d stayed in many times in the past, though not for many years. Today it was
occupied by a party who’d come in by sea, their kayaks pulled up on the grass
above the beach. Although the surrounding area is owned by the John Muir Trust
Camasunary itself isn’t and the owner wants the bothy for his private use. He
didn’t want to deprive visitors of shelter though so he agreed that there
should be a new bothy as a replacement and this was built in 2014 on the
eastern side of the bay, about a kilometre from the old one. The approach to
the new bothy is very boggy and the ground is marred by the deep ruts of
vehicles. The stone-built, slate-roofed bothy looks a bit barn-like from the
back as there are no windows on that side. Although complete it’s locked at
present. Looking through the windows, which face the bay and will give a good
view, it looked rather bare inside though I could see wooden bunks against the far wall. Like
the old one the bothy will be maintained by the
Mountain Bothies Association. I
expect it’ll take a while for it to develop a character of it’s own.
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| Sgurr na Stri and Loch Scavaig |
I wandered further along the south shore of Loch Scavaig on
the rough and sometimes steep path that leads to the village of Elgol, where I
would be in two days’ time, though not by foot. Ravens called overhead and down
on the rocky shore oystercatchers piped shrilly and gulls and hooded crows
scavenged amongst the debris, too much of which is plastic rubbish washed in
from the sea.
Back at the tent I sheltered inside and had hot soup for
lunch. Outside the wind and rain hammered on. Turning away from the sea I
headed into the wind and up the glen to Loch Creitheach. Wind-driven waves
crashed on the shore. High above patches of blue appeared as the clouds finally
tore apart. Rainbows were appearing as I returned to camp again. The rain
continued to lash down. Combined with the wind this made photography difficult.
Holding the camera steady was almost impossible even when lying or kneeling and
keeping rain off the lens for long was completely impossible. Pictures were
grabbed hastily.
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| Loch na Creitheach |
The wind and rain were still beating down when I fell asleep
that night but morning came with quiet and just light drizzle. The latter died
away as I was packing up and the midges appeared, clouds of them rising out of
the grass and enveloping me. Where was that wind now? Quickly shoving everything
into the pack I set off briskly back up the Am Mam track, soon leaving the
midges behind.
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| The Cuillin from Elgol |
That evening I was in a meeting in Broadford with people
from the John Muir Trust, this being the annual Trustees visit to a Trust property
to see what’s happening on the ground and meet staff. The following morning
dawned bright and sunny and we were off to Elgol for a meeting in the village
hall, with just time to go down to the harbour for the classic and spectacular
view of the Cuillin beforehand.
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| The view from Am Mam |
In the afternoon we escaped the indoors and
visited Strathaird, one of the
three adjoining estates the Trust owns on Skye.
After looking round the lower farmland we took the Am Mam path that I’d now
walked twice in the rain up to the pass and a wonderful view down to Camasunary
and across to the Cuillin. If only it had been like this the previous two days!
Returning to the road we were stopped by a magnificent sight. High above a
golden eagle was circling with two ravens mobbing it. Just how big these eagles
are was shown by the ravens, which looked small by comparison. The eagle seemed
undisturbed by the two black would-be persecutors and just glided round in
circles ignoring them. Eventually the ravens decided they’d had enough and flew
off, as did the eagle shortly afterwards, heading towards Camasunary. Another
eagle appeared in the distance but soon vanished. Golden eagles. A fine way to
end a day on Skye.
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| Camping under a rainbow |
