12 minute read
Wandering the wild, windy and wonderful Western Isles
Emma Haxell and her partner Iain Aitchison travelled to Britain’s remote Atlantic fringe to experience the stunning beauty of the Outer Hebrides on a 185 mile ride from the southern tip of the island of Barra to the northernmost point of Lewis. Here are Emma’s impressions of a cycling adventure through an archipelago of stunning beauty.
The start of the Hebridean Way on the Isle of Vatersay
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EMMA HAXELL
WORDS
EMMA HAXELL & IAIN AITCHISON
PICTURES
THE HEBRIDEAN WAY spans ten islands and is rich in breath-taking white beaches and inquisitive wildlife. Since becoming an official route in 2016 it has grown in popularity as a route to complete either by foot or bicycle – the latter being the best way, in my opinion.
After a day of travelling by plane, bus, train and sea-ferry, we finally arrived at Barra at the southern tip of the island chain. The route is usually ridden from south to north, due to the prevailing winds. There was minimal planning involved since my partner Iain and I were intending to be wild-camping along the route.
We caught sight of a pod of dolphins as we travelled to the start point at Vatersay. Then our adventure began. Within the first mile we were treated to a 12.5 per cent incline. This definitely warmed us up, but it turned out to be the only real ascent of the day.
We joined other cyclists tackling the Hebridean Way – and they were to become familiar faces over the next few days. During the first ferry crossing, a 40 minute journey, we were treated to the spectacular sight of gannets divebombing for fish.
Despite being only three miles in length, our visit to Eriskay wasn’t exactly a flying visit. After a stop at the island store to replenish our supplies, we took liquid refreshment at the only pub, and soon lost a couple of hours – time well spent though!
The pub, the Am Politician, was a very slight detour off the main route but one which everyone on the ferry seemed to make. It was a lovely little place which looked like it used to be somebody’s home. It’s named after the wreck of SS Politician which ran aground off the coast of Eriskay in 1941 – carrying 22,000 cases of whisky! The event was fictionalised by the writer Compton Mackenzie in Whisky Galore, which was made into a popular film in 1949. Sadly we didn’t find any whisky when wandering along the beach behind the pub!
Following our break, we were back on our bikes and soon crossing the second causeway of the day on to South Uist. Here we began to lose sight of the coast as the route veered inland and the views of the sea were swapped for crofts and sporadic houses.
After a few hours, and a stop at a Co-op, we sensed we were nearing the coast again, although we couldn’t see it. We stopped and climbed a high stone barricade wall which revealed a pristine white sandy beach – completely untouched for as far as the eye could see. A perfect spot to rest our legs.
We decided it was time to head on and
The Hebridean Way
Spanning 185 miles from Vatersay in the south of Barra, to the Butt of Lewis in the north, across ten islands, six causeways and two ferries, the Hebridean Way is a dazzling route of rugged landscapes and glittering white Atlantic beaches and spectacular cliffs. The holder of the fastest round-theworld bike ride, Britain’s Mark Beaumont, launched the cycling route in 2016, completing the ride in just 12 hours. A film of his journey, which gives a vivid illustration of the landscape and conditions, can be found on YouTube.
cycle toward the camp spot we’d previously scouted out via Google Maps – located on the next island, Benbecula. We spent a long time trying to find a camp spot. It’s worth remembering that the spots on Google Maps may not be as perfect in real life! After unintentionally cycling the whole island we reached a series of causeways which linked Benbecula to Grimsay, and Grimsay to North Uist. It was off one of these causeways we found a spit of land to pitch up for the night and were rewarded with an amazing sunset out at sea. Accounting for the ferry journey we’d clocked up approximately 65 miles.
We started our second day with our first Hebridean dip – refreshing but very cold! Having cycled over six islands on the first day, majority of day two was to be spent on North Uist.
We noticed many differences between each island and this one was different again – with characteristics of the Scottish Highlands. The roads were undulating in terrain but without any serious climbs. It was on one of these roads we encountered our first traffic jam – a local farmer moving his highland cows!
When stocking up on supplies at the village shop, we spoke to a local man who was interested in our travels. When he heard we were planning to cycle back to Stornoway after completing the Hebridean Way, he warned us about the very open moorland road we’d need to take and that we’d need to batten down the hatches.
We headed to the ferry port on the very small island of Berneray but with a few hours to spare and not many miles to complete, we decided to follow a “beach access”. Following the detour downhill we pushed our bikes to the top of the sand ❝ Behind the dunes… pristine white sand as far as you could see in each direction, and turquoise water which could easily fool you into thinking you were in the Caribbean ❞
dunes, and found the most amazing beach we’d ever seen – pristine white sand as far as you could see in each direction, and turquoise water which could easily fool you into thinking you were in the Caribbean. To make it even better, there wasn’t a soul in sight.
With time to spare before the ferry, we visited the island’s tea room, and took advantage of the public showers at the old harbour. Feeling refreshed we hopped on to the ferry, with some familiar faces, and headed to the Isle of Harris. Once off, the task of finding a camp spot began again. We found a lovely spot on the headland with the sound of the waves of the open Atlantic crashing below us. Including the ferry journey we finished the day on 50 miles.
On day three we woke to an overcast sky but thankfully no rain. As we reached the village of Seilebost we stopped to take in the view – and watched an otter in the sea below, darting around in search of fish.
Harris is notably hillier than the other islands, with quite a mountainous terrain. We soon began to gain height but were shrouded in a wet mist which stole our views. A tea stop in Tarbet was a very welcome place to dry off and refuel.
After Tarbet is the biggest climb of the route – a continuous slight ascent with a few long steep pulls thrown in for good measure. Once we levelled out we were rewarded with a brilliant decent on a winding road with a couple of switchbacks. The broken views of the loch through the mist would have been brilliant in clear weather.
Shortly afterwards we reached the Isle of Lewis, and the afternoon was spent cycling further north and stopping in
Crust Like That pizza cabin, in the middle of nowhere!
various bus stops to dodge the sporadic showers, which had finally caught up with us.
We had a treat booked for dinner that evening – in a place called Crust Like That, a converted shipping container selling takeaway wood-fired pizzas in the middle of nowhere. We’d pre-ordered the pizzas earlier that day, and having assumed we’d be very hungry by then, we asked for three pizzas between the two of us. Although they were delicious, it turns out we were just being greedy. The third pizza was not wasted. We strapped it to the top of the pannier rack!
We’d only planned to ride a few miles after the pizza stop before pitching our tent, but the vast moorland terrain, consisting of thick heather, made it impossible to find anywhere suitable. We finally somewhere, though it was less than ideal, and the wind had dropped, so the midges came out to play! Our travel for the
day was 55 miles.
There was no rush as we started day four and headed to Dail Mor for breakfast on the beach. We had the beach to ourselves – apart from the thousands of midges. The only time they left us alone was when we went for a dip.
The views on Lewis changed once again. It was predominantly moorland with a few lochs. We came across a bonus tea room, the Grinneabhat, which was not marked on our map. Naturally we had to stop.
We got talking about our cycling exploits to the only other couple in the tea room. They’d been cyclists and had ridden all over the world – 45 years ago! They said that our story had inspired them to get back on their bikes. Not wanting to miss an opportunity, we told them to look up Audax UK.
The rest of the day was spent following the same long, unforgiving road with a tea stop and then finally a pub stop at the Cross Inn, only a few miles from the official finish point at the Butt of Lewis, which is a very wild place with steep cliffs, huge sea stacks and rough seas. Having finished, it was time to find our final camp spot of the trip.
Port Stoth Beach lies only a mile from the Butt of Lewis, we had clocked it on the way to the finish point, with it being so quiet and sheltered it was too good not to stop and go for a swim.
As we got out of the sea it started to
Early warning… Iain watches out for those crossing otters A port in a storm… Emma sits gratefully in a bus shelter, AKA the wind and rain protector
rain. It hadn’t rained much so far on the trip – but this was torrential. The rain forced us into a manic 30 minute ride to find a camp spot and pitch the tent on the headland. We were thankful to have kept the pizza from the night before as it was too wet and windy to get out of the tent to cook dinner! The wind continued through the night, together with relentless rain – we were glad this weather had arrived on the last night rather than the first. On day four we completed 40 miles.
The end of our bike packing trip was sadly in sight, however the wind and rain from the previous night didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping, which made it slightly easier knowing this would be our last day cycling.
After packing up in the rain, the only thing that stood between us and a warm, dry hotel (our reward for wild camping for the duration of the trip), was a 30 mile ride, of which 11 miles were across open moorland, with relentless wind and driving rain. The guy we’d spoken to a couple of days earlier had not been joking when he said we’d have to batten down the hatches – it was a tough ride!
No speed records were broken during this trip but that was never our intention. One of the many joys of bike-backing is that you’re not beholden to time – unless you have a ferry to catch! Over the course of our trip we covered ten islands via six causeways and two ferries.
Wild camping meant we could stop when and where we wanted, moorland permitting, and the best part of all was that we could explore hidden treasures – ones that would have been missed by those who were time and speed conscious.
Emma feels inexplicably at home on her bike…
Emma Haxell is a 30 year old Audaxer from north Essex, who rides for Chelmsford-based
Athlon CC. When she’s not on her bike she can be found climbing mountains in Scotland – she’s in the process of ticking off all 282 Scottish Munros (peaks above 3,000ft). During the recent Covid lockdowns Emma took part, with a group of friends, in a virtual climb to Everest base camp – using a set of brick steps in her back garden. She’s been an Audax UK member for just under a year, but previously rode in several events. “I’ve since realised I’ve missed out on many points,” she says. Emma owns three bikes and is currently eyeing the purchase of a gravel bike. She’s also working her way through the longer distances, and is in the process of tackling RRtY. Next on her riding agenda is a bike pack tour around Lake Constance, taking her through Germany Switzerland and Austria. She says: “I’ve always been around cycling, whether that was on the back of a tandem while growing up, cheering my dad on during his time-trials or listening to the many stories my grandparents told of their worldwide cycling trips. I’ve an inexplicable feeling of being at home when I’m on my bike.”
Hidden jewel… Port Stoth Beach
