ONE THOUSAND MILES THROUGH THE SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS
Paul Hesp
A roof over my head, a soft mattress under me. And exactly at this spot I have just completed my one thousand miles through the Scottish Highlands.The landscape outside is blotted out by rain. Should I stay here and take it easy now? I decide to walk on in the rain: the mattress is a foot-thick layer of sheep droppings, and through the broken walls of the shed the rain is beginning to come in. At least the whole set-up is perfectly Scottish.
In the mid-1970s I made my first hill walk in the Highlands, in the Loch Lomond area (the Brits love understatement – the term mountain walk is rarely used). My first long walk, over 250 k through the Eastern Highlands, took place in 1978. Then it was Wales and Norway for many years. In 1990, I met Evelyn, and Scotland became a priority. After a couple of holidays it occurred to me that it would be interesting to link up walks: I have a good visual memory, and linked walks mightgive me a coherent mental picture of the Highlands. They have done that.
Originally, I did not have a goal in terms of kilometres or miles covered. I just wanted to explore the Highlands until I had a reasonably complete picture.But as the distance walked increased, I found myself setting such goals. The first one was not 1,000 k –I crossed that point without giving it much thought - but the sound barrier: sound travels at 1,225k at sea level. I broke the sound barrier on June 8, 2002, soon after leaving Kinlochleven (the Club’s base camp in 2003) to climb the ‘Munro’ Am Bodach. Never mind that it took eightor nine holidays, and that I mostly travelled above sea level; calculating the speed of sound at the different heights at which I walked was too complicated anyway. The next goal was 1,000 miles, or 1,609 k. The moment supreme, described above,came on May 15 of this year, at some point in the morning. I can’t give you the exact time, because one of the luxuries of a good walk is that you forget the time; but theexact map referenceis NN 293801.For the non-map readers (there are not enough map readers in the Club!):the spot is about 9k east of SpeanBridge, by an old railway track running along the slope of Beinn Chlianaig.
The next objective is of course passing the 2000 k mark. Caithness - the northern tip of Scotland - and the peninsulas of the Southwest Highlands remain unexplored, and that’s where most of the walking will be. Caithness is rather daunting: apart from the coast, the land is virtually uninhabited; there are no huts, and there is hardly a tree. After I havetackled those areas, my picture will be reasonably complete, with the exception of the islands. So that’s where you can find me with Evelyn from the end of this decade onwards.
One thousand miles make a long story. To cut it short, I’m posting some pictures taken over the years in my traditional black-and-white. I hope they’ll encourage others to visit the Highlands! But do learn to read a map before you go.
Corrour bothy, Cairngorm Mountains. I spent a night here on my first long walk in 1978. A bothy is a simple shelter, no food or beds; the picture shows that there is no dress code either (the picture was taken by a New Zealander who did his mountaineering in long johns).
Glen Carron. By 2006, I had learned to dress properly. On the far horizon, you can just see the mountains of Applecross, which we visited with the Club.
Ben Nevis. At 1344 m, this is the highest mountain in the British Isles. That’s notvery high. But most ‘Munros’ (hills above 3,000 feet or 914 m) must be climbed more or less from sea level, the weather can be deadly and there is no shelter. This picture therefore gives a false impression of hill walking in Scotland: it is not child’s play.
Highland cattle at Loch Maree. There is a popular Scottish song about the ‘bonny, bonny banks of Loch Lomond’, but many other lochs (lakes) are at least as bonny (beautiful). The roadless east bank of Loch Maree gives you a full day’s walk through breathtaking scenery.
The top of the Devil’s Staircase, near Kinlochleven. I broke the sound barrier the next day, in the hills on the horizon.
The Speyside Way isunusual for Scotland: this trail is fully signposted and almost flat, as you follow an old railway track along the river Spey (photo by Evelyn).
A heavy rainstorm approaches my tent across the wild lands of Knoydart. Never trust the Scottish weather.
Loedebest Farm in the great emptiness ofCaithness.