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Hotspur.us » Eigg-celent! – July 10

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

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