Archive for the 'Travel' Category

Eigg-celent! – July 10

What I like about the Eigg pedestrian ferry:

  1. It doesn’t leave early.
  2. The Captain stops and turns for puffin sightings.
  3. Doggos!
  4. You only need to show up 15 prior to departure.
  5. Upon arrival at Eigg, half the island is at the port waiting.

In port, Chad ran into our AirBnB hostess, who happened to be leaving for Glasgow for the rest of the week. The Caravan is unlocked, she told us. And feel free to put any of your stuff in the refrigerator in the kitchen, the door is open. (By open she literally meant, wide open.) Oh, and if it rains, try to dry the dog’s feet off before he runs in the house or just shut the door.

That was our introduction to the Isle of Eigg, population just over 100.

To be clear, our lodging was a Caravan in the back garden of a house in the Cleadale part of Eigg. We had no real idea what this meant, but at $44 for the night, it seemed like a good deal, or at least far better than a tent. Our directions to the caravan ended with, “It’s the only blue Caravan.” So basically, if we got confused and took the left too early and came across a caravan in someone’s back garden, if it wasn’t blue, it wasn’t ours.

And to clarify, in case you’re confused like I was. The Caravan is in fact a small pull behind camper. I was thinking it was one of the oh-so trendy modern gypsy wagon caravans, which seem to be popping up all over AirBnB. (If only those included Gypsy Varners so you could take your wagon for a ride.)

To make travel around the island easier, we rented two mountain bikes, shouldered our rather heavy backpacks – plus Chad got to pack the cooler in as well – and headed off and UP. I should mention we were both wearing jeans and that it was a bit muggy and very sunny. Not the typical Scottish weather everyone goes on and on about. And most certainly not the type of weather I want to experience riding a bike while wearing jeans.

Also, I haven’t biked much on flat recently, let along on hills with a fully laden backpack (4 bottles of beer, three 12oz and one 750ml), sitting on the most uncomfortably bike seat I have encountered. I was drenched by the time I crested the first hill. It wasn’t long before my sweater was a goner and I was desperate enough to consider pulling over and changing into the only other pants I’d brought – my previously worn hiking pants. But I didn’t, not so much because I have some dignity, but because I’d have had to dig them out from the very bottom of my pack.

Finally arriving at blue Caravan in back garden, we were greeted by the house dog (I swear I thought I heard someone say his name was Wooflan…) and found the Caravan unlocked and the house door indeed wide open. 

Ok. So we’re here. We’re now thankfully NOT wearing jeans. What shall we do? Shall we ride back down into town and over to the trailhead for An Sgurr and hike it? Then ride BACK UP to our lodging? Or how about we do little exploring that involves riding bikes up slightly less hills? Maybe go over to the Singing Sands, grab the geocache that should be along the way? Not sweat to death?

Yes. Yes, that sounds like a far better plan. Far, far better. So, now about finding the trail to Singing Sands.

So the thing we struggle with in Scotland is remembering that just because there’s a gate on a road or trail, does not mean you must turn back. Those are most often there to keep the sheep or cows on one side, and to let those of us with opposable thumbs through. It took us about three failed attempts before I stopped to read a description of the trail that said, “Go through the gate.” Oh. My mistake. Alternatively, we could have just looked for the bikes piled up by said gate.

Bikes ditched we headed on the trail through the sheep fold. I’d figured out the answers to the geocache that would presumably give me the right coordinates. And it was relatively close to the trail. Only there was nowhere to hide anything substantial. We wandered around and finally consulted the hint. Um, yeah so I messed up somewhere.

Fair enough, we headed on to the beach and I figured I’d take a look at my math later (I screw up the easiest math puzzles, often times due to transposing numbers – spoiler alert!).

Singing Sands was breathtaking!

And we had it nearly to ourselves and then, shortly thereafter, completely to ourselves!

We waded in the surf and the tidal pools.

Checked out the caves and the natural arch.

And yes, the sand does sing when you walk on it.

I cannot express how much I love standing in the sand, water lapping at my feet, and looking up to the hills. It may be the perfect combination.

After a quick review I determined I had transposed the geocaching coordinates when I plugged them into my Garmin. Duh. Fixed that and as we headed back to our bikes we stopped to find the cache. I’d read the log prior to packing our bags to come to Eigg, so I knew the cache needed maintenance as it had gotten all soppy. Luckily I was somewhat prepared with a Rite in the Rain notebook and ziplock bags! Hey oh! Cache maintenance for good karma! While I did that, Chad sat on the rock and read his book.

After a short respite, the floofer took us for a walk down to Laig Bay Beach where we encountered beach cows – an entire herd – which was a completely new experience!

Not wanting to bike DOWN into town for a beer and then back UP to the caravan, Chad decided that we should hike up to God’s Finger. The trailhead was practically across the road from us, so it seemed like a solid decision.

It was straight up. Up. Up. Up. In very tall weeds. So of course I was on high tick alert!

Once we got to the point where we could stop climbing and walk on some flat, Chad wanted to explore further. It was hard to argue, so we followed some sheep up a trail and soon had a great view!

It was beautiful – the heather was gorgeous, contrasted beautifully against the varying shades of green. It also looked an awful lot the same in all directions. Which was when I began to be slightly freaked out because I didn’t have my Garmin with me and the mapping app on my phone wasn’t giving me a tracklog.

So there we were, surrounded by all this beauty and all I could think, as I looked over and saw the clouds rolling in, was “I do not want to be that stupid tourist who gets lots and has to either be rescued or dies of exposure due to being a dumbass.”

It was not a good spot to be in mentally. Not at all. But wait! Another app worked in a pinch to at least give me a track, although there were no maps. But hey, it’s better than nothing!

Chad wanted to continue to the higher points of the ridge so he could look across and see Arisaig Bay. So onward we kept going and suddenly finally found ourselves in the bog. Yep, it took us until we got to the top of the hillside on Eigg to finally find a bog. Squish. Oh, did I mention that our extra shoes were sitting in the car in Arisaig? Well, they were.

Heading back, the clouds I’d seen covering the far end of the island had reached us and it started to rain. And rain some more.

So, there we are, Chad in his waterproof pants, waterproof boots and rain jacket. Me in my rain jacket, no-longer-waterproof shoes, and water-resistant pants. Which is to say, I was soaked from where the rain jacket stopped to my toes!

As we lay there in the caravan, watching the beach cows make their way past, we decided to get up early tomorrow and make for An Sgurr.

LOADS of photos in the gallery for viewing….clickity click! 

chris on July 10th 2018 in Geocaching, Travel

On the Sea – Arisaig July 9

Like the previous day, we were up early to head out. Not 5 am early, but still early. We had to be in Arisaig for a 10 am sea kayaking adventure. No rest for the wicked, the weary or the vacationing if you do it our way! We were using the same outfitter as last time, so at least we were ahead of the game in knowing where it was. I look for small victories in the morning, very small victories! 

Once again we lucked out and had quite a small group – 7 including our guide. We had a family from Norway and a guy from London. He told me a dreadful story about kayaking in London in a river (no, not the Thames) where there’s loads of trash including dead pigeons. But that’s not the worst part, apparently a lot of beginning kayakers go there and somehow manage to flip their kayaks multiple times! The first time I landed in dead pigeon water would make me a fast learner of how not to flip my kayak! It makes my natural aversion to West Virginia river water, which has thus far yielded no dead pigeons, seem rather silly.

The area around Arisaig is a seal nursery so we saw loads of them, including mom seals with their babies on their back. Which…super squee!

Watching them flop around trying to get to the water is hilarious. They are definitely NOT graceful on land, more like extremely large slugs.

I even had a baby seal swim under the front of my kayak!

The paddle was fairly uneventful, if you discount floating amongst seals, until we headed out into the more open water which was choppy! As we paddled along in the troughs and swells, I kept thinking “So, should I flip this thing and not be able to roll back up (likely), and have to do a wet escape what the hell am I going to do? It’s cold. The water is quick. This is how it ends.” (Although to be honest, I was pretty sure I was going to die sliding down the shortcut of Ben Nevis, as well, so take it all with a grain of salt.)

We reached a piece of water sheltered by a few small islands and our guide asked us if we wanted to go into more open water (obvious from the looks on all our faces that was a big NO) or if we wanted to turn back the way we came, have the wind at our backs and surf back in. Confused silence. And I spoke up and said, let’s go with the surfing bit, as it seemed far less likely to involve me rolling my kayak.

(the following photo is NOT taken anywhere near the area being mentioned in the current narration)

What happens when you’re the slowest paddler is when your group turns around, you suddenly find yourself in front and the guinea pig to try the surfing! Hooray me! As instructed, I thought I was paddling pretty hard. Apparently I was not, since our guide pulled up beside me and basically said you’re gonna have to paddle so hard your arms will fall off tonight. Good enough.

I do admit, surfing was fun – plus upper body workout!

This was our paddling route. 

Once back on land, we took a little walk around Arisaig to check out an old cemetery. Turns out there were six graves of sailors from the H.M.S. Curacoa, which was involved in a very sad accident.

Here’s a rundown of the accident: On the morning of 2 October 1942, Curacoa rendezvoused north of Ireland with the ocean liner Queen Mary, which was carrying approximately 10,000 American troops of the 29th Infantry Division. Each captain had different interpretations of The Rule of the Road believing his ship had the right of way. Queen Mary struck Curacoa amidships at full speed, cutting the cruiser in half. The aft end sank almost immediately, but the rest of the ship stayed on the surface a few minutes longer. Lost with Curacoa were 337 officers and men of her crew.

So, now that we’re all depressed, I’ll end with this. When you’re staying so close to a mussel farm, that you’ve paddled by it twice, you’re pretty much obligated to have mussels for dinner. And they were delicious!


chris on July 9th 2018 in Animals, Travel

Wandering Ft. William – Post Ben Nevis Recouperating – July 8

After going pretty hard for most of our trip, we decided we’d earned a rest day. What exactly does that entail for us? Well, it doesn’t exactly mean hanging out and doing nothing all day.

First stop, the Ben Nevis Visitor Centre, so I could get a pin and maybe a sticker or something. Plus, it was so foggy we wanted to see how bad it was near the trail head. Answer – densely foggy. I was so happy I went ahead and hate-hiked that mountain yesterday when it was gloriously sunny and clear.

Next up – Neptune’s Staircase. Wait, what? Fish don’t have feet. No, no they don’t. Nor is this a salmon ladder (my first guess). It is a series of eight locks that form part of the Caledonian Canal.

Which, as it turns out, is an engineering marvel that fell flat upon completion because it was….

  1. Poorly constructed – It’s still standing and functional, so I’m confused by this assertion, but that’s what the signs said.
  2. Too narrow – Victorian technology moved faster than they were able to imagine, apparently.
  3. Too shallow – See above.

We had very good timing because as we approached, we noticed four sailboats heading into the first lock! Neat! My first reaction to seeing the crew and the boats – “Oh hell no, would I be traveling very far via sailboat. Thanks.”

That being said, watching the boats go through the locks was pretty neat. For one thing, it was a lot quicker than I thought it would be. I believe they said it would be two hours to go through all eight locks. After watching the boats, we meandered up the trail a little bit before coming back to have a nice cup of tea and a pastry in the lock side hotel. Oh clotted cream, how I love you so very much!

Next up – finding the actual geocache. We’d already jumped through the hoops to log a find on the earthcache, but there was also a real cache nearby and so of course I was going to look for it! Found it before the midges got to me, those little bastards. They make mosquitoes seem harmless in comparison! 

We headed back into Ft. William to try our hand at more caches. This ended up being more difficult than imagined because while we found a very handy car park, we could not figure out how to get out of it and across the main road on foot. There was a railing and lots of vehicles. We tried a few different ways until Chad finally spied the underpass that led to freedom and the original Fort William, which was basically a nice little waterside park with plenty of signage and campers in the way of a cache. 

When our tummies started to growl we headed back to downtown Ft. William, which by the way is either the beginning or the end of the West Highland Way, and that makes for some grand people watching! And, if you choose correctly, some very yummy food and drink. This time around we chose wisely and found ourselves a nice little chain restaurant/pub that had a nice selection of cask beer. Hooray! 

Since yesterday had been a rather tiring adventure, after stuffing ourselves, we headed back up to our lodging (a nice Air BnB room in the neighborhood a bit up the hill – it came with a cat, the hill was modest to walk) for a well deserved nap! While this was not our first Air BnB adventure, it was definitely the first time we’d rented an en-suite room in someone’s house. But we figured eh, if our host was an ax murder, at least we’d be killed AFTER we hiked Ben Nevis.  She was absolutely not an ax murdered, but a very nice lady who had the first floor in a nice Victorian house. (Seems Victorian in the UK is a bit different than what I think of as Victorian here, mainly I suspect because Victorian here is considered a fairly definitive style not a time period in which things were built.) Our room was purple with a silver ceiling and all kinds of cute touches. I love it. And I slept like a rock. 

And one last photo…our car this trip was an MG3. I had no idea that MG even made vehicles any more. 

I mean, it’s a far cry from what I think of as an MG, but it got great gas mileage, the passenger seat had loads of leg room and it treated us well!

It was definitely a low key day, but we still took photos! Check out the gallery for more than what’s above (I think!)

chris on July 8th 2018 in Geocaching, Travel

Ben Nevis with 3,000 of our Closest Friends – July 7

Up early. Way too early. And with sadness because really, we should have stayed a second night here. But this is how we end up rolling, despite the pretense of not being vacation nomads. The good news was that despite having to catch the ferry at 6:00am, we were literally a 5-minute walk away. Yay for small bits of happiness at way too early o’clock!

We arrived at the main parking for the Ben Nevis Visitor Centre only to find it chaotic and overflowing. This did not please me. We drove back out to extended parking, where I threw a fit trying to repack our hiking backpacks that had done suitcase service while on Islay. Chad meanwhile cobbled together some food to throw at me from a safe distance, hoping to calm me the hell down. It did not work.

After much equipment flinging and saying of many bad words, we stalked off to the Visitor Centre and trailhead. I was extremely anxious. Because starting a 7 – 9 hour hike at 12:30pm is a bad idea in my experience. Anything later than a 10 am start is pretty much unheard of for us. And even that is late. But the weather was perfect – clear, blue skies, little clouds, and a temperature only expected to hit 77 in Fort William.

As I stomped my way along the path to the trailhead, Chad said to me, “You’re not going to hate-hike this hole mountain, are you?”

I glared at him, “Damn straight I am. This is some bullshit.” (What exactly was some bullshit was entirely unclear to me at the time, but I was sure something about the situation was obviously bullshit.)

Here’s the thing about Ben Nevis, you can’t actually see the summit. You can’t see it from the trailhead, in fact it probably isn’t even the mountain you’re looking at because it’s not the one that seems obvious. You can’t see it when you cross the trail by the loch, which seems like a good way into the hike. You can’t even see it when you’re almost there. You finally see it when you’ve just thought, ‘well that’s pretty much it. I’m going to die up here having never achieved the summit.’ Because suddenly you’re there. And it’s enormous. This giant flat expanse. But we’ll get to that a little later.

I learned several things as Chad and I hiked Ben Nevis with thousands of our closest friends, that fine Summer day.

  1. Giving way to upcoming hikers is clearly not an international hiking phenomenon. This lead me to extend my hate hiking of the mountain for quite some time longer than it should have. (I do happily give way to any hikers coming down who are obviously in distress. I’m not a complete monster.) The only nice part of this was that when Chad and I gave way as we came down the trail, the hikers going up seemed genuinely surprised and thankful.
  2. 1/3 of the returning hikers were on the left of the trail; 1/3 of them in the center; and 1/3 of them on the right. Chaos! If you’re not going to give way, at least pick a damn side! Sweet Jesus! I’m not into playing Frogger when I’m going uphill.
  3. I don’t like hiking with hoards of people. Let’s be honest, I hate it. I hate it so much. There were people everywhere! Generally one goes to the mountains to get away, unless apparently it is Ben Nevis! Holy Moly!

So, after what seemed to be an eternity of varying types of trails – nice smooth bits, steps, random rocky goodness, loose scree/small rocky goodness – we started seeing some extremely large cairns.

At this point I just assumed that we were close to the top. Hahahahah. No. We were in fact on the part of the mountain that was basically a rock field, making the trail discernable on this lovely, bright, clear day, but probably a witch to locate should any fog, rain or snow have rolled in.

Yeah, when I looked up and could not see the summit, I was so devastatingly bummed. There was one moment when I thought I might cry or, alternatively, just reach out and punch the next person within arm’s reach. I did neither because I A) have some pride and B) am not a complete horse’s arse.

Oh, did I mention there was a snow field to cross? There was. It was a little slippery.

At long, long, long last, we were very near the summit and could see the crowds gathered near the trig station, getting updates on the World Cup Scores from some guy who had data at the highest point in Britain. Yep.

We snagged a nice flat boulder and Chad made sandwiches, while I happily let my backpack drop from onto the rock. It had taken us 3.5 hours.


Despite having seen plenty of photos from the top of Ben Nevis, I was quite surprised to really see how large and flat the summit was. None of the panoramic and 360 photos prepared me for it. Nor for the crowd.

We got the highest geocache in Scotland which was amazingly an ammo can. Then we took the required photos for the virtual geocache, which took some time because we had to outwait the all the people at the emergency hikers hut and the trig pilar.

Now remember back when I was all freaked out because we were starting so late and I was sure no one would be heading up the mountain after we did. It was just too late. I was so very wrong. There were people streaming up the mountain, not only while we were on top, but as we were descending. It was crazy!

We did find out that the National Three Peak Challenge was going on  – bag the tallest peaks in Scotland, Wales & England in 24 hours – which was part of the crowd, but honestly only a small percentage. There were people we passed who looked like they’d never set foot on anything rougher than a paved rail trail, and here they were taking on 4400+ feet of mountain! It was amazing and insane and maybe even a little bit inspiring.

On our way down Chad suggested we take a little shortcut to circumvent a few of the cut backs. It worked out well. Then we saw another and Chad suggested we take it too. Sure! Why not! HAHAHAH. Why not….because it was a path of loose stones that had recently been placed to help with erosion and it was straight down. Yep, straight down the side of a crazy steep mountain on footing that was the exact opposite of stable. The good news was it completely circumvented all the remaining cutbacks. Additional good news, no injuries or death; although that was touch and go a few times for me!

Finally, finally, finally, after a solid 2.5 hours of hiking we were done. Not too bad! We’d shaved an hour off our time, in no small part to our crazy gravel surfing shortcut! That would be the straight light on the below tracklog.

And the sharper descent on the elevation cutaway here….

This is what Chad looked like when we were oh so almost very close to being back to the parking lot.

This is what I really felt like –

This is me faking it, because I accomplished what I set out to do three years ago.

Check out the gallery – there are a lot more photos in it that I didn’t use and they deserve to be seen in full size. And they are captioned, so you know what you’re looking at! Aren’t I thoughtful?

chris on July 7th 2018 in Geocaching, Travel