Private. No Through Road

The next morning, I took a back road on the west side of the Kyle of Sutherland, following fforest tracks before eventually rejoining the main road at Oykel Bridge.

My original plan had been to stay on A roads to Ullapool. Part of the attraction of that was the possibility of seeing a couple of mountains I’d climbed in my hillwalking days. But when I stopped to consult my route-planning app, I noticed an alternative that was more direct and away from traffic. I decided to head that way and I reached the Old Schoolhouse Bothy on rough but perfectly decent vehicle tracks.

It was here that I made the mistake. About 200 yards from the bothy I missed a track on the right and carried on along what seemed to be the obvious route. Had I taken the correct path at that point, I would eventually have forded a river to reach Knockdamph Bothy and the track down to Ullapool. Later I learnt that this route is described as a ‘classic, challenging Highland ride with quiet backroads, big climbs, and wild, remote scenery’. Perfect.

The route I took led me to the gates of the Corriemulzie Estate. I later learnt that this area is considered to be one of the best sporting estates in Scotland covering 50 square miles of Highland wilderness. There may have been a sign saying Private, and there may have been another saying No traffic ahead, but those warnings never apply to bicycles, right? If only there’d been a sign saying Debs! Turn back now.

The gate wasn’t locked and I went through, continuing on along undulating gravel tracks beside the river. It was rough going and I summoned all the resilience I could muster when the track veered away from the water and started to climb the hillside. But it was a sign on an old iron post pointing to Ullapool that almost made me weep. It indicated a faint footpath heading straight up heather slopes.

I had a choice between heading back the way I’d come and finding somewhere to wild camp, or continuing on. Consulting the map, moving forward seemed to be the best option. The problem was that the path was barely there, contouring awkwardly around the hillside. On a couple of occasions, I had to remove the panniers to push the bike over uneven ground, then walk back to retrieve the bags. It was during one of these endeavours that I was attacked by a swarm of vicious Scottish midges. It was a particularly low point.

Images from this Komoot post by @bertbulsworth show what it would be like to ride a bicycle on this track. I, on the other hand, walked, stumbled and pushed the bike, muttering to myself not so very silently.

Eventually, after a hard slog, I rounded the hill and the path dropped steeply to the head of Loch an Daimh. There, in fresh disbelief, I found myself ankle-deep in water, pushing the bike towards the fishing lodge at the loch’s edge. I stopped briefly, stunned by the route I’d just taken and amazed that I’d manage to come through it in one piece. There had been moments.

With time pressing, I rejoined the main path from Knockdamph Bothy, the track I should have taken earlier.

It was a good few miles back into Ullapool but on increasingly good tracks and I was mightily relieved to arrive, muddy and weary at Ullapool Youth Hostel. I was exhausted but had to spend some time washing my clothes, the bike, and myself before heading out to the pub next door for a good, well-earned, meal. I slept well and, thankfully, this hostel had an excellent drying room so by the next morning, I was able to retrieve my dry, clean(er) clothes and the recharged bike ready for the main event.