[TR] Sea Lochs of Mull

Paddling the Sea Lochs of Mull

Our plan was to paddle around the west coast of Mull, stopping on remote beaches and camping under the stars. However, like most trips things didn't go quite to plan.The weather forecast had looked really bad before we left home so we were pleasantly surprised when we reached the ferry in Oban in the beautiful sunshine with calm seas in front of us. After paying the £60 for a return ticket to Mull, we stood on the deck of the Caledonian ferry looking out over the water, when it suddenly dawned on us for the first time, just how tiny our canoe really was and how far we had crazily planned to paddle.For our first night we had pre-booked a small guesthouse called Barn Cottage in Gruiline, only £19 a night B&B. It was surrounded by woodland and only a mile away from Loch Na Keal where we'd planned to launch our canoe and start our adventure the following day. Mrs Babbington who ran the guesthouse was great. She offered to take us and the boat down to the loch in her landrover and even said we could leave our car in the safety of her grounds whilst we were off paddling. I thought that was so nice. The following morning we were up at 6.30am and having ordered a late breakfast we decided to explore a little of the island on foot. We walked towards Loch Na Keal along a leafy single-track lane where we heard woodpeckers hammering away and saw an agile sparrowhawk darting in and out of the hedge in front of us. The loch, which is about 6 miles long, soon came into view and so did or first problem. We were hoping for a beautiful calm millpond instead we found a spitting, bubbling cauldron of white spray and huge waves. A quick call to the coastguard and our fears were confirmed - force 5-6 winds increasing to force 7 in the open sea towards Ulva where we had hoped to spend the first night camping. There's a number to call regarding camping on Ulva; they openly welcome you as long as you let them know you're coming.
Slightly disheartened at being told the bad weather was due to last several days, we carried on our walk along the loch. However, it wasn't long before a black dot appeared through the clouds and all thoughts of canoeing disappeared. It was high above us but the shape, stubby tail, huge broad wings, was unmistakeable -our first Sea Eagle. It got closer and closer and soon we could see its pure white tail and huge talons as it lunged for something just out of view. Contrary to popular belief these birds are larger than the Golden Eagle, with wing spans of just under two and half meters. I still can't get over the sheer majestic nature and presence of these birds. With smiles on our faces we walked back to the guesthouse. Over breakfast (which was so huge it took over an hour to eat all the courses) we decided to forget camping and spend all our evenings warm and dry at the B&B and settle for canoe day trips instead.That afternoon and the following day we spent driving around the rest of the island doing the touristy bit, Tobermory and Iona and getting just the briefest view of a Golden Eagle above Glen Mor. Thankfully on the third day there was a break in the weather and we headed off for Loch Scridain. What a magnificent location with Ben Mor towering 966 meters above us and 8 miles of slightly choppy water to explore. With our packed lunch and flask secured nicely in the canoe we left dry land for a full day on the water. The first part of the loch near Pennyghael is a series of tiny islands, which acted like a maze when we tried to navigate our way through them. Around this area the water does drop considerably when the tide goes out so its well worth checking tide tables first to make the most of it. It is said that Loch Scridain was carved out of the mountains by the devil who, when having an argument with someone on top of Ben Mor, was defeated and was pushed over the edge of the cliff. As he bounced down the hillside, ledges appeared where he fell, and his final fall at the base of the mountain caused such a cleft that the sea rushed in, thereby creating the loch. He must have been a huge devil! As we paddled along we realised this place is a birdwatchers paradise. There was everything from guillemots to hen harriers, something different everywhere we looked. Then, in the distance, I noticed what looked like a plastic grocery bag floating in the water. I grabbed the binoculars and to my amazement saw, coming straight towards the boat, a little Auk (no not the lord of the rings type, now that would have been an interesting tale to tell) but a tiny black and white penguin- looking thing. You should have seen me desperately trying to catch hubby's attention whilst trying not to startle the little thing. Eventually a subtle nudge with my paddle did the trick and we sat in wonder as this amazing little bird bobbed past the boat so close I could have scooped him up in my hand. I'd only ever seen photo's of them in books before, so this was truly amazing. As we paddled back to shore, we got the feeling we were being followed. Looking back we saw 3 inquisitive young otters following the canoe. They came within about 8 foot of the boat and were fantastic to watch, as they rolled, dived and played in the water around us. I was hoping to see one of them do the oyster shell-breaking thing on their belly but I think they were way too busy working out what we were doing, for stuff like that.
The following day we were up extremely early again and saw the sun rise as we walked towards Loch Ba about 30 minutes from the B&B. I would have liked to have paddled this loch but the landowner was a keen fisherman and I'd heard he didn't really like people using his land to launch boats so we decided to leave it. It was worth the walk there though as I saw a barn owl, a tawny owl, a herd of deer including an albino calf and a huge stag. I even spotted 2 sea eagles (might have been the same one twice though) all in a matter of minutes.After breakfast we drove up to Calgary Bay towards the north of the island. This has to be one of the most beautiful places in Scotland. With its golden sands and turquoise waters it could easily be mistaken for the Caribbean; well, apart from the temperature and the odd highland cow that is. Feeling Lazy, I decided to use my newly acquired canoe wheels to portage down to the water's edge. Is it me or do these wheels have a mind of their own? In the shop it sounded so simple, the instructions were straightforward but the actual doing it was impossible. I tied the canoe on as the diagram showed and for a few yards it was great but as soon as I hit a tiny bump the wheels twisted and I had to start all over again. It took ages to reach the water, which was only 200 yards from the car park. If anyone has any tips on using wheels over rough ground I'd love to hear them. Anyway, by the time we reached the water, the wind had started to pick up but the tide was coming in so we decided to risk it and launch the canoe. If fact I decided hubby should go out in the canoe and let me take some photographs of him surrounded by this stunning landscape. What a mistake! Within minutes I could see he was getting into difficulty. The wind was dragging him quickly out to sea so I started shouting and waving my arms to get him to come back to shore. Unfortunately, he thought I was shouting directions for the photographs and carried on paddling. Within 5 minutes he was a speck on the horizon. The wind was swirling and getting stronger and I was left on the beach totally helpless. I watched him struggle and get so far in then the wind would pick up and he'd be even further out than before. We were well-equipped with buoyancy aids, airbags and flares in the boat but neither of us had the experience for anything like this. Part of me wanted to swim out to him as I know two of us in the boat would get to shore easily but I also knew the chances of being swept out to sea and missing the canoe was too big a risk to take. For 40 minutes he struggled to get to dry land then finally he made it. I saw him in the distance stumble out of the canoe and collapse on the beach. For 20 minutes he lay there before he found the energy to move. It kept running through my mind all those nights I'd sat home alone wishing he wasn't spending so much time at the gym, now was so thankful that he had. As I made my way along the beach to where he lay, a beautiful male peregrine falcon flew over head. I was about to shout out and tell hubby but somehow I know he wouldn't have cared. After a long lunch and a huge reality check in the safety of canoeing on the sea we decided to head off to Loch Spelve, a sheltered loch at the south east side of the island. It's only about 4 miles long and 2 miles wide with a small part taken up by fisheries, which is best avoided, but the rest of it is stunning. It was like a millpond and just what we needed. A grey seal came up and had a good sniff around the boat then two red throated divers came into view (the feathery sort). I was so engrossed in taking photographs of the incredible landscape and the wildlife that the sun had almost set by the time we reached the shore. That evening, which was our last on the island, we spent sharing a bottle of wine on the banks of Loch Na Keal. I know we didn't do all the paddling we had planned but it was still a wonderful few days and it gives us a good excuse to return to the island and do it all again.

www.visitscotland.com/adventure

[TR] Caledonian Canal Revisited

The Great Glen, Scotland

In my continuing quest to find easy flat water adventures across the globe, I find myself retracing the paddle strokes of my very first expedition.
It’s been seven years since I last paddled the Caledonian Canal but it’s still my favourite multi-day trip in the whole of Britain. It involves paddling right across Scotland, an amazing 60 miles. Not only are you paddling from coast to coast but 24 of the miles are across the mystical and sometimes quite challenging Loch Ness.

I arrived in the village of Corpach, near Fort William in the late afternoon and headed straight down to the British waterways Office (follow the signs to the lock side), to pick up the free but essential canal licence. You can also get special canal lock loo and shower key here which by day two is an absolute luxury to use.
From there I headed up the steep road towards the row of lock gates called Neptune Staircase and followed the narrow lane till I reached a guest house called Rhiw
Goch. I chose this place especially for this article as it’s perfect for tranquillity seeking paddlers, like me. There are only 4 double/twin rooms and children aren’t allowed but what it does have is a fantastic view of the canal, Ben Nevis and all the surrounding mountains. If that wasn’t good enough, Ron the guy who runs it also has a fleet of Wenonah open boats available to hire. I guess the only downside is the portage to the canal. Just kidding, you just stroll through to the back garden, open the little wooden gate and there in front of you is the canal complete with launching pontoon. It just couldn’t get any easier.
So after an evening in the local pub and a scrumptious 3 course breakfast cooked by Ron’s wife, we made the long trek (about 3 meters) onto the pontoon. There we met a team of rowers from Oxford University who had hired boats from Ron, who where doing the same trip as us to raise money for the Cancer Research. We had not planned to be quite so focussed, with our boat full of wine and enough junk food to last a month, until a niggling feeling crept up on me. It must be the Oxford Cambridge thing that kicked in and it’s terrible to admit to, but I felt this passionate need to beat them. As I was trying to put these thoughts out of my head, Chris and Vicky, two friends from Wales joined us with their new red boat. New might not be the right word as it distinctly had a pointy out kink half way along the left side but Chris had picked it up for £50 which had to be the bargain of the year.
We loaded our boats and waved goodbye to Ron and his beautiful Springer Spaniel Sophie, when I realised that the Oxford lot had got a good half hour lead on us. I remember thinking, they had youth, rowing coaches and a passionate reason to finish the trip on their side but we had something they didn’t have. The pierce of resistance, the one thing that turns this particular trip from tough and challenging to something your gran could do on a Sunday afternoon. A set of canoe wheels and Sails!
So off we set on this first stretch of canal. Every so often we would catch a glimpse of the Oxford guy’s boats in the distance just as they rounded the next bend, which seemed to trigger the competitive natures in all of us. I’m guessing the Oxford guys were totally oblivious to our desire to overtake them and they’re probably sat reading this article now in total bewilderment. Even I feel slightly daft now remembering how important overtaking them was and the delight I felt when we caught up with them at Geirlocky, the first and most challenging portages of the trip.
We only caught up with them here as it’s quite an awkward get out, with a choice of a far too high pontoon or going through the disused lock gate and dragging the boats up the steep bank. I’ve always found the steep bank the easier option, especially as it cuts down on the walking when you reach the path. So with the help of our wheels, we were soon stood on the banks of Lock Lochy along side the Oxford Guy’s who were enjoying a little sit down after their wheel-less portage. They were a lovely bunch with hearts of gold but I still felt the need to pop my boat back on the water and head off before they had time to put their flasks away.
So here we were on Loch Lochy, 11 miles long, 500 feet deep and surrounded by thick forests stretching high into the mountains. The landscape around here has a tremendous North American Great Lakes feel about it. If you’re lucky enough you may even see one of the Ospreys who nest nearby, fishing in the loch itself.
All we saw during the day was a couple of buzzards and two little kids in kayaks, paddling way to well for their small sizes. Someone needs to tell them to make it look harder so people have respect for us intrepid explorers!
By late afternoon we were approaching the headland which separates Loch Lochy from Laggen Lock. Anywhere around here is good to camp, with choices of pebbly beaches, little wooded nooks and even golden sand if that’s to your liking. We choose a pebbly beach, with loads of driftwood to make building a fire less strenuous. The tents where soon up and the fire was blazing as we sat there waiting for it to go dark. I always find this time of day strange. I’m tired and want to go to bed but can’t because the sun’s still up. But then as soon as the sun does go down I feel wide awake again and stay up till the early hours talking complete nonsense and drinking way too much. This night was no exception. Chris got a bottle of whisky out, Al had the red wine and me being the classy chick I am, drank baileys out of a plastic water bottle. Vicky then emerged from her tent with a set of Boules!! Ok I’m not one for travelling ultra light on paddling trips but a set of Boules!! The weight issue aside, it did turn into a great game. I lost each game with great skill and efficiency and did even better at loosing playing Hattijack later in the evening. By midnight we were all huddled round the fire again, eating toasted marshmallows off pointy sticks the boys had expertly whittled for us.
The following morning we were up at 6.30am and were packed and ready to launch by 7.30am. For those of you with plenty of time and aching arm’s from paddling, there are some great Munroe’s to be bagged from here. From Glasdhoire NN254933, a pebbly beach with an old ruined cottage on, about a mile back from where we were camped, there’s a small path which joins onto the Great Glen Way Footpath. From here, with a good map you can go up the steep valley of Cam Bealach to the summit of the pass at 660m. From there you have a choice of two paths, one leading to Sron a’Choire Ghairbh and the other going to Meall na Teanga. These are both tough treks so if you’ve forgotten your walking boots, keep paddling.
Anyway for us, it was portage number two at Laggan Lock. This is a straight forward portage up a tiny incline with the luxury of real toilets and even a shower when you reach the other side. (TOP TIP: the shower rooms here are always really warm, so a great place to sit and thaw out after a night’s wild camp).
The next stretch of canal looks more like a beautiful river, with high trees either side and the only bit of sky visible is directly above. This then leads into the start of Loch Oich. This is a well sheltered and photogenic loch, which often has mystical puffs of mist floating just above the water.
Until now the weather had been really quite nice which was great for the others but I’d recently kitted myself out head to toe in new paddling gear and was desperate to try it out. So when it started to rain, I was quite happy. My new Artistic cag kept me dry and was comfy and my new negro pants worked well too. I even moved my junk food bag so I could kneel down in the boat to try the removable knee pads. I definitely made the right choice. I’d even brought my new helmet which I new I wouldn’t need but it did look good on the front on my boat.
As we reached the end of Loch Oich, I looked round to see Chris stood up in his boat reading a map and looking towards the river on our left. The River Oich is a great option if you feeling a little tired and need some white water action to motivate you. It saves about an hour padding time and is mainly grade 2 with a possible grade 3 depending on water levels. Me being the white water wimp I am, decided to continue along the canal and agreed to meet them in Fort Augustus for lunch. I have to admit I didn’t enjoy the next section of canal at all. Every now and again we’d get a glimpse of the others from over a weir and they were just sat there letting the river take them along. Al and I though, worried about how late we’d be getting to Fort Augustus where paddling like crazy. We’d taken a huge dry bag from their boat to give them some freeboard, forgetting that we still had another 3 portages to do. On the up side, I did get the chance to lend Vicky my new helmet so it has now seen its first and probably last lot of white water action.
For us though, the wind picked up and we were having to work our socks off. To make things worse we met an elderly couple leisurely walking the Great Glen Way footpath alongside the canal. We were paddling like crazy and we still struggled to keep up with them. We would just get in front of them (not that we were racing a pair of 80 year olds of course) when huge gusts of wind would hit us and leave us 20 meters behind them again and this went on for 4 very frustrating miles. The only thing that kept us from screaming was the thought of a huge bag of chips for dinner. Don’t get me wrong, this stretch of canal is lovely and if we hadn’t been rushing to meet the others and if those old codgers hadn’t looked quite so smug at the fact they were walking a lot faster than we could paddle, we would have enjoyed every minute of it.
Eventually we reached the lock gates of Fort Augustus. The pontoon on the left is the easier get out as you don’t have to struggle with a tiny metal bridge ramp. But the get out on the right has the advantage of passing a pub and a great little chippy, so obviously we took the hungry person option.
It was a heck of a struggle to get our ridiculously laden boat up the pontoon and over the ramp. I even tried to phone Chris who’d been chilling for the last hour on the banks of Loch Ness a few hundred yards away to lend a hand but his phone was switched off. We did eventually manage to get the boat onto the road. It was all well worth it as we parked the boat outside the Chippy and filled our faces with hot salty chips and cans of coke.
The Pub is virtually next door and I would have popped in if Chris had had his phone switched on but he didn’t so we made our way through the centre of the village over the swing bridge and down along side the loch gates and to the banks of Loch Ness. There waiting for us were Chris and Vicky and my newly baptised helmet. They were all slightly wet from the river trip but it sounded like they had a great time. They even saw deer on the banks of the river, which I was quite jealous about.
The first time I did this trip 7 years ago, I booked a B&B in the town here and split the trip up into 4 days but this time, time was at an essence so we needed to get going.
So off we went, over the choppy water where the River Ness meets Loch Ness and onward past Cherry Tree Island. There is a red buoy on Loch Ness which is soul destroying as you can paddle for what feels like hours without it getting any closer. It even crossed our minds that it may be a little red boat sailing away from us but eventually after what felt like an eternity we reached it and decided to have a well deserved break. By 4pm it was time to get going again and time to start looking for a camp site for the evening. The official caravan site on Loch Ness no longer accepts tents, which is a shame as there’s a bar and easy access to the beach from there but there are plenty of wild camps to choose from so on we went. The wind picked up considerably and was totally against us which made this bit quite a challenge but extremely enjoyable as the boys decided to race each other as our canoes ploughed through the waves. After about half an hour of full on racing and both Al and Chris totally exhausted but refusing to give in, we thankfully reached a large pebbly beach perfect for camping. We were only about 7 miles from Fort Augustus but the wind was so strong that if we’d carried on paddling we would have ended up going backwards. So we set up camp and made shelters from our boats for cooking and a big camp fire to dry our socks.
Meanwhile I had to get the mozzie spray out even this late in the year. The smell coming from the drying socks should have been more than sufficient to keep them away but these were tenacious little gits who’d missed the lesson were they’re told to die out by September!
We sat around the fire and ate our tea and for once we all had an early night. The following morning we were up by 7am. Chris and Al were paying for their racing antics the day before and could hardly lift their paddles from aching muscles. Luckily when we set off the wind was blowing, in our direction this time, so we rafted up, put both our sails up and laid back. At first we were gently sailing along but before long the wind had picked up to a force 6-7 and we were tearing down the loch with incredible speed. We literally only got a fleeting glimpse of the impressive Urquhart castle on our left as we zoomed by.
I guess I should say here that Loch Ness is a perfect flat water adventure until you experience Loch Ness on a windy day. The waves here can regularly reach four to five foot and if I’d had children with me in the boat I wouldn’t have been out on the water for sure. For all its beauty and mystique Loch Ness can be a dangerous place in bad weather even for experienced paddlers.
But saying that, surfing on huge waves with ferry wakes hitting you from all sides going faster than you’ve ever been in a canoe before is one heck of an adrenalin rush. The boats took in loads of water but still using the improvised cut up plastic bottle bailer I made the first time I did this trip, it was all in control. We travelled 17 miles in 3 hours which was pretty impressive. Only downside was our trip finished way too quickly. It wasn’t even lunch time when we reached Dochgarroch lock and the end of our trip. You can carry on along the canal to Inverness and then on to the sea from here but it’s not the most pleasant of stretches. There are barges and boats moored continuously either side of the canal and the water is very dirty and smelly. So whilst the scenery was still beautiful we dragged our boats up onto the pontoon and wheeled them the 100 yards around the corner to the café. The plan was for the boys to catch the Great Glen bus back to Fort William and we’d wait in the café with the boats and kit parked outside in the car park. We did this 7 years ago and the café owner was lovely and really made us feel welcome. This time however, the new owner wasn’t so paddler friendly. We made the mistake of asking the name of the café instead of calling it a restaurant which didn’t go down too well. Then we discovered it was 2 hours for the next bus. We did the decent thing and all brought a meal as we waited for the next bus which when it did turn up was full! Apparently, you need to pre book seats on these buses now, which we didn’t know about. So then we had a decision whether to wait another two hours for another bus or to phone a taxi. I first phoned Ron the outfitter who offered to come and pick the kit and boats up for £80 but didn’t have space to take the four of us back. I thought that was a bit expensive as we would still have to find or own way back to the cars so we ended up phoning a taxi. £65 and an hour later the boys were in Fort William picking up the cars. Two hours later and 5 hours in the café for Vicky and I, we eventually set off home. Shuttles have to be the hardest thing about tripping so when I returned home I made some enquires and found a fantastic taxi company who will pick you and the boats and all the kit up from the canal side and drive you all the way back to the start for £75 There’s also room for 6 people inside too. So split 6 ways it’s an absolute bargain and no waiting in a café for 5 hours! I do have to say the café owner did warm to us after a few hours. I think the fact we spent a fortune on meals, cups of coffee and cake helped.
So as a summery: This is one of those trips like the Wye and the Spey that every paddler has to do at least once in their lifetime. There’s the fantastic paddler friendly Guest House, to start the trip, canoe hire, easy put ins, simple navigation and now a straightforward solution to shuttles for the way home. Its all so easy.
P.S. The Oxford Guy’s successfully completed the trip without the aid of sails and wheels and raised an amazing £2,500 for Cancer Research. Well done guys.

INFO:
British Waterways Canal Office (key & Licence) Tel : 01463 725500
Rhiw Goch Guest House and Canoe Hire Tel: 01397 772373
Website: http://www.rhiwgoch.co.uk/ Email: Ron@RhiwGoch.co.uk
Pub at the start: The Locky. Haggis Neeps & Tatties only £6.50
Shuttle Taxi: http://www.taxi2.co.uk/ or call Nigel on 01862 842260
More info on the area, bus time tables etc. http://www.visitscotland.com/

[TR] Loch Ericht, Scotland

Knowing When to Turn Back

In my mind I had the image of a lake full of reflections, surrounded by snow covered mountains and clear blue skies above. My boat would glide forever with a single stroke, leaving me free to take the most wonderful and inspiring photographs I could ever dream of.
“You must be mad”, “you’ve not been to Scotland in winter before then!” Were the comments I got when I excitedly announced my latest trip to colleagues. I’d checked the 10 day weather forecast and it all seemed fine. So excitedly I got in the car with Al, for the 400 mile drive up to Scotland. We were heading for Loch Ericht, right in the heart of the Scottish wilderness. There was a little bit of snow on the hills to start off with but as we made our way through the highlands and darkness fell, the snow started to fall heavily. By the time we reached the Drumochter Pass on the A9, visibility was poor. The car was starting to slide all over the road and things where getting quite scary, when a faint light shone through the blizzard and the letters B&B appeared. It was a bit like one of those corny movie moments when help appears from nowhere but just when you thought you where safe a huge monster comes out and eats you! Thankfully we saw no monsters but we still had 200 meters of deep un-snowploughed road to get through before we finally reached the warmth and safety of the Balsporron Cottages B&B. We were greeted by Ann and Phil who made us feel right at home in front of their real log fire and even made us a very welcome hot meal. After a lovely night’s sleep we were up early, ate breakfast and headed outside to an incredible snow-covered landscape. Everyone helped to dig the car out and once back on the A9 the road was clear and we were only a few of miles from Loch Ericht itself. Ann kindly printed out an up to date forecast for us which took us slightly by surprise. 35mph winds with gusts up to 70 and snow was forecast for the next two days and I guess if we’d had any sense we would have turned back then, but we’d driven so far, taken time off work, spent all that money on petrol and there wasn’t a breeze in the air, so we decided to carry on. We left our car just behind the Petrol Station in Dalwhinney where the guide book suggested and loaded up my brand new Wenonah Prospector canoe. We then made the 600 meter portage down the lane under the railway bridge, through the barrier and down to the lochs edge. I couldn’t believe how easy it was to drag a fully laden boat over snow by myself.
At only 14.5miles long, I’d given us a couple of days to complete the round trip of Loch Ericht with the highlights being a nights stay at the famous Ben Alder bothy and a visit to Bonnie Prince Charlies caves at the furthest end. The sky was grey and it was bitterly cold but even at the lochs side the wind was barely noticeable. So off we went, all wrapped up in the latest winter gear, paddling past huge lumps of ice floating in the water, hoping to reach Ben Alder by teatime.
We’d only been paddling fifteen minutes when we passed the first headland and the full force of the weather hit us. It was blowing a hoolie out there on the main part of the loch and it took all our strength just to stay head on to the waves. Being sensible we should have turned back there and then but we didn’t. As the weather got even worse and we started to tire we realised that we had no choice but to continue as both sides of the loch where by now, too steep for a safe get out, with such big waves breaking on them. The sun was disappearing fast behind the mountains and the temperature plummeted further. I have to say, my new Wenonah prospector (quick plug) handled amazingly in what has to be the worst conditions I have ever paddled in. My old boat would have been swamped in no time but this new baby just glided up and down the waves with astonishing stability (plug over). It was after 4 hours of battling through hellish conditions we finally found a beach we could land on. It was starting to get dark and I had an uneasy feeling inside, things where not looking good. Al got out of the boat first and soon realised there was no way we could get a tent up on the rocks where we’d landed. Further up there was some grass which looked perfect until we stepped on it. The thin layer of ice it was growing through cracked and we were stood in 5 inches of water. The sheer hard work of paddling had been keeping me warm in what was now below freezing temperatures. But now I’d stopped I desperately needed some shelter. We found a spot on a slight incline where our feet only sank about an inch and decided there just wasn’t time to look for anywhere else. My face was raw, my feet were numb and my whole body was hurting and aching from being too cold. All I wanted to do was roll up into a ball, shelter my body from the bitter wind and close my eyes. For a split second I thought ‘gosh we might not get ourselves out of this’. Then something inside kicked in, and with a sudden rush of adrenalin, my frozen paddling mittens came off and we fought like hell against the gales and the failing light to put that tent up. All I could hear in my head was my heart pounding, for that single moment nothing in the world mattered more than getting that tent up and somehow, we did it. I have never felt so focussed on anything in my life. As the final peg went in, almost like a cruel joke, the wind dropped. Then as I looked up around me into the fading light, I realised we were surrounded by deer. There must have been 200 of them, mainly stags, all watching as we finally took refuge inside our tent.
It was a reflective evening in the tent that night, with neither of us knowing quite how we’d let ourselves get into such a dangerous situation. Thank goodness we’d bought the tent as a back up in case the bothy was full. We’d at least done something right. As my body warmed up I realised I’d quite badly pulled the muscle in my left forearm and even Al was feeling pretty sore in his shoulders and neck from 4 hours of hacking.
The following day we woke up to find everything frozen. My gloves, the toothpaste even the rice pudding I’d decided to cook for breakfast was frozen solid in its tin. The cold was affecting our gas cooker too which was barely alight and certainly couldn’t cook anything. Luckily we had a spare trianga, meths stove with us which although classed as a bit old fashioned these days, worked a treat. Outside the windchill temperature had been -14 degrees Celsius. The wind was strong but not gale like, like the day before so we had another decision to make. If I didn’t make Ben Alder Bothy, with all its history of ghosts and ghouls and didn’t climb the mountain to see Bonnie Prince Charlies cave, what would I write about? We got out my GPS and we’d only managed to paddle 6.9miles the day before. We usually paddle three times that distance in that time and the weather was slightly better so we decided to give it a go.
So with another great decision under our belts we decided to leave the tent where it was, paddle the 8 miles to Ben Alder Bothy, get the photo’s I needed for an article then sail back, have a late lunch at the tent, pack away and sail the 6.9miles back to the beginning.
It was so cold though, even with all the high tech kit we had on, I still wasn’t warm. I even ended up putting on the £2.99 last minute back-up balaclava I got from the garage in Capel Curig on, over my scull cap. I have been umming and arring about whether to submit the photo of me wearing this ensemble and I’ve been persuaded too against my better judgement, just remember it was really really cold!
Anyway, off we set towards the Bothy. The snow covered mountain Ben Alder towered above us but offered no shelter from the strengthening wind. My forearm was agony and I found it difficult to paddle on my left side but we still carried on. The waves got bigger, the wind got stronger and I was exhausted after just an hour. Then a snow blizzard started and I just couldn’t do anymore. Al was gutted that we’d come so close and I just couldn’t find the strength to paddle another stroke. He tried to carry on alone but the wind was too strong so reluctantly with only a mile to go he turned the boat around and sailed back to the tent.
As I sat exhausted and motionless in the boat letting the sail take us back, I was totally unaware the effect the cold was starting to have on my body. My toes were numb but that had happened the day before but, about an hour later, when we’d finally reached our tent, I tried to get out of the boat I couldn’t straighten up. My body felt rigid. I tried to ask Al for help but my speech had gone all slurry, this really scared me. When I did get back to the tent and laid down my body started to shake uncontrollably. It only lasted a few minutes and I was then ok but, its frightening to imagine what would have happened if we’d stayed out on the water even a few minutes longer. By 2.30pm we were both in the tent wrapped up in our sleeping bags sipping hot sweet drinks as a freezing blizzard howled outside. We should have been back at the car by now and I was worried the guest house I’d booked for that evening might call emergency services if we didn’t turn up so I routed through my dry bag and found her details, only to see that I had her address but no telephone number. My mobile reception was intermittent so I texted my friend the address and prayed he would find the number, before a big helicopter came in search of us. Luckily he found it and a quick call later everything was fine. I soon fell asleep and incredibly 17 hours later I woke up. I do like the odd lay in but that was pretty impressive even for me but I guess my body must have needed it.
It was 9am on day 3 and as I looked out of the tent I couldn’t believe my eyes. The sun was shining. The loch was flat and I was surrounded by beautiful snow covered mountains. We’d not seen a top of a mountain since we got there; the landscape was breathtaking. I could finally get my camera out and take some photo’s.
With such lovely weather we could have easily paddled to the Bothy, seen the caves and paddled all the way back to the car and still have hours to spare but my body had had enough and we finally made the first sensible decision of the trip and paddled straight back to Dalwhinney.
As we gently paddled back through this astounding scenery in beautiful sunshine I got to thinking ‘was it all worth it?’
Things could have turned out so badly but through sheer luck rather than judgement they didn’t. My sense of adventure has gone up another few notches and I’ve certainly leant not to under-estimate the British weather. But my head is filled with incredible achievement knowing I paddled and survived such harsh conditions. And now I’m paddling through some of the most magnificent scenery I’ve ever seen in my life. This is the bit I’d dreamed of and I guess it’s made even more spectacular by what we’d endured to get here.

2 days later at home: Without realising, twice during this trip I was showing some classic signs of the first stages of Hypothermia. My naivety of canoeing in cold weather screams at me as I proof read this article. Even with all the right clothing, and without capsizing, my exhaustion and inexperience of freezing temperatures left me in what could have been a life threatening situation. And what for? A few photographs! It’s just not worth it. Saying that, paddling the entire of Loch Ericht is still high on my list of trips to do, I’ll just be waiting for the weather to warm up a little bit first, I think. X


Useful info:
Balsporran Cottages B&B (just round the corner from the Loch) Tel: 01528 522389
www.balsporran.com
VisitScotland (tourist information, accommodation, bus times etc) Tel:0845 2255121

www.visitscotland.com/adventure