By Angela Ward
and Adam Evans
Photos: Adam Evans
and Angela Ward
Saturday
1st September 2018
As has become customary on expeds, we drive up the day before so we can have a last-minute check of the weather forecast and finalise our itinerary. After checking in at our accommodation (Achilty Guest House, Contin), we headed into Dingwall in search of an evening meal. For such a small place, there was a wide selection of eateries to choose from and so I opted for fish and chips (deep-fried) and Adam had cheeseburger and chips (also deep-fried). Deep-fried Mars bars were also on the menu and that’s where they stayed!
Voyage on Veyatie
Day one: Sunday
Fuelled by approximately six-million fried calories (each), we warmed ourselves up nicely by lugging our boats and kit down the track towards the departure point at the Elphin Hatchery.
The loch stretched out before us and the faint breeze was just enough to ruffle the water and let us easily paddle up to Loch a Mhadail for a scout-round. This was the inaugural exped for Terje (pronounced Terry) the Nortent Tipi and we found a particularly inviting stretch of sugar-like sand which looked perfect for his first pitch. Unfortunately, the sand was just too soft for even our snow pegs to bite so we loaded up our boats and moved on.
After skilfully poling through The Narrows, we moved further onto the loch and so were afforded some shelter from the increasingly gusty conditions. Headwinds of F4-F5 gave Adam the perfect opportunity to see how well his new Hou Prospector would perform on its maiden voyage. It’s always interesting to learn about a new boat and its character, especially with Prospectors having a reputation for being difficult to control in windy conditions. A little bit of trim and a slight edge combined with deep strokes soon translated into a look of glee on Adam’s face, as he quickly became at home in his new boat.
Working further down the loch to look for a more sheltered location revealed no suitable areas of flat land. We paddled back out onto the main body of the loch and located a perfect elevated spot within sight of The Narrows and with Suilven beckoning in the distance.
As we unpacked the Nortent bag, rain began to fall, but with a little prior practice (always advisable in these situations) we quickly assembled Terje to gain a splendid shelter in an idyllic spot.
Within no time at all, the MSR Whisperlite stove glowed cherry-red as we whipped up a hearty meal of ribeye steak, moist Jamaica Ginger Cake and lashings of sumptuous yellow Devon custard with the added luxury of clotted cream. It was yet another calorific bombardment although not deep-fried!
We always recognise the importance of adaptability on expeditions and as per usual, I’m in charge of bringing the provisions. We’d brought an equal measure of heavy fresh food to eat early on in the trip and a supply of lighter dried food in case we encountered any sections involving silly portages.
Day two: Monday
Any photographer will tell you that it’s a good plan to have an early morning recce to both answer the call of nature and check out possible locations for taking pictures. However, in the wilds of Scotland, this also means being live-bait at feeding time for the local wildlife. Being of Germanic ancestry, I got up even earlier than the midges and avoided being eaten.
Adam went out slightly later and ended up a living banquet for the renowned Scottish midges. Possibly even more ferocious than the Scottish wild haggis. He returned with enough bites that if you were to join them together in the style of a dot-to-dot, it would probably resemble every star constellation that would be visible on a clear bright night sky.
After a breakfast of freshly-cooked pancakes and mocha spread, washed down with filter coffee, we packed up camp, slipped through the shallow narrows again and through onto Loch Veyatie. As the loch narrows, it gently becomes a river only just deep enough to float a fully-laden canoe down. Using paddles to propel our boats would only serve to clatter our paddles and have limited control.
Instead, we decided to stand tall with our big sticks as we snubbed down the flow under control. It’s a traditional skill which I really enjoy although it takes a great deal of concentration to stand tall with a long pole on moving water. Guiding the boats slowly down, sliding to the side of rocks and holding our ground in the flow was such a lot of fun.
We followed the flow and entered Fionn Loch, in the shadow of the majestic Suilven. Under the watchful eye of the late autumnal sunshine, it was wonderful to set up camp leisurely on a small promontory, at the foot of such an iconic summit.
Our surroundings, although awesomely stunning, became slightly less appealing as we felt the appearance of a few hungry midges. At this point, we retired to the sanctuary of our midge-free Terje the Nortent Tipi and its bug-proof inner tent.
Once our sumptuous evening meal had settled and the midges had retired to bed, a little night-paddle was definitely in order. Way beyond the reach of city lighting, we were surrounded by deep inky-blackness and a light mist augmented the effect by obscuring the sky above. We affixed small white LED lights to the bows and a small red LED light to the sterns. Terje was also adorned with LED lights, both inside and outside, so he lit up like a conical beacon in the wilderness.
Sliding quietly through the water in the still night and gazing skywards under the clouds, we spied pin pricks of light on the summit of Suilven and pondered on who was up there and what they would make of our small red and white lights zigzagging on the black background of the loch below. With such little ambient light from nature, it was difficult to make out the loch edges in the dark and so we ran aground more than once during our gentle two hours of play-paddling in the starry darkness.
Day three: Tuesday
Experience is definitely a great teacher and my tactic of getting up earlier than the bitey little critters appeared to be successful when answering the call of nature. I even dared to venture outside without the added protection of my midge-mesh pantaloons and jacket.
Today was going to be our summit day as Suilven beckoned in the distance. Boggy conditions on the approach meant that paddling boots and waterproof socks were the perfect combination. I decided to adopt precautionary measures and don my midge-mesh hood and mittens for the first section of the walk. This proved to be a prudent prove because every time we stopped walking, the midges swarmed towards us.
From a distance, the route up Suilven looked impassable until we got a little closer. Progress was slow but steady and we took regular breaks. After all, what’s the rush? Far too often, people hurry their adventures and thus diminish their time spent surrounded by nature.
My lung function wasn’t the best but fuelled by Prednisolone and a seriously determined attitude, I knew I’d get there in the end, albeit slowly. Adam led the way, methodically zig-zagging onwards and upwards with his hands clasped behind his back in his easy-going, ubiquitous ‘Wilderness Guide’ walk.
Encountering several other walkers en-route was lovely and we exchanged pleasantries about where we’d come from. It was especially entertaining to point to the precise location where we’d pitched Terje far below because the tent and our canoes lying adjacent, were the only man-made objects visible from that side of Suilven.
Reaching the summit of Suilven was wonderful. There was a light breeze and azure-blue skies with just a few wispy white clouds. The distance cast out as far as the eye could see in stunning 360-degree views over to Loch Sionascaig and Stac Pollaidh. This was a day and a place to simply be for a few minutes, allowing the moments here to create memories, which would last for a lifetime.
On such a high point and relatively near the coast, we picked up a faint phone signal, the first in several days. This technological connection with the outside world allowed Adam to open his emails and discover that he’d been awarded British Canoeing’s ‘Wilderness Canoe Guide’ qualification, a rare feat in itself. A celebratory hug ended up with us losing our footing on a slope and collapsing onto the ground in a heap. I like to think that I saved our lives that day by pinning Adam to the ground, thus preventing us both from rolling down Suilven to a certain death. The reality is that I ‘possibly’ just fell on top of him in a fit of laughter.
After our brush with death, we gathered our thoughts by looking out over Loch Sionascaig and working out our plans for the next few days. One possibility was to paddle across Fionn Loch and portage across to Shielding which would involve a combination of dragging boats and paddling across Na Tri Lochan.
We’d planned for a possible portaging element to our trip by bringing along a supply of dried exped food in case we needed to travel light. After spending a day off the water, I felt that I’d accomplished a great deal by summitting Suilven and there was no need to challenge my lung function any more than was necessary. Dragging my boat and kit across rough Scottish moorland could be avoided and it made sense to be kind to myself and take things easy.
Instead, we came up with a plan B which involved staying in our present location for another night and go on a paddling day trip to visit the Falls of Kirkaig. To learn more about this area check out the John Muir Trust at: https://www.johnmuirtrust.org
Day four: Wednesday
A cooler duller day greeted us as we paddled down the loch into a gentle headwind. Arriving at the end of the loch, we were greeted by a group of walkers who appeared completely bemused by our arrival. They asked where we’d come from and they seemed even more confused when we replied, “From over there” and pointed in the general direction of our base-camp. Trying to grasp how two canoes had made their way to this high and remote iconic loch was probably beyond their comprehension.
One of the group said he could save us the trouble of walking to the falls because apparently they, “Weren’t anything special and we shouldn’t bother going.” We obviously decided to ignore his advice and went anyway. I’m not too sure what he was expecting to see there but our walk along a muddy track and then down a steep rocky path, led us to a beautiful wooded glen, inside which was carried a white mountain river.
Admittedly they weren’t on the same scale as Niagara or Angel Falls but the location was marvellous. Not quite so marvellous was the appearance of bitey little critters, although I was well-prepared with my life-saving midge-mesh hood and mittens. There is something very satisfying to be able to defend myself from them, although it did hamper my attempts to eat lunch!
As a strong woman, I am clearly capable of fighting off attackers at any time and in any location. I fully advocate the use of midge head nets in the wild and possibly the use of a well-timed right hook in an urban environment.
After a leisurely few hours of day tripping, it was good to paddle home to Terje to enjoy another evening of fine dining and watching films. It’s a hard life but someone’s got to do it!
Day five: Thursday
The day began early with another extremely well-timed answer to the call of nature, after which we enjoyed yet another leisurely breakfast of freshly cooked pancakes with maple syrup. Nothing in particular was planned for the day other than to enjoy our surroundings. The wind was a consistently gentle F2-F3, which enabled us to sail towards the end of Ffion Loch again.
Now evenly matched in terms of sail size and sailing speed, we were able to cruise along together in the late autumn sunshine. Our Endless River sails are great downwind sails although by using our paddles and adjusting the trim of our boats, it’s possible to sail crosswind and almost upwind.
In years gone by, Adam would need to stay in close proximity to me. Now that I’m a reasonably competent paddler and sailor in my own right, this isn’t usually necessary. It does mean that we can both alternate between paddling/sailing but also manage to capture photos of each other in action and then catch each other up.
We played around for a few hours until it was time to head back to Tipi Base Camp for a late lunch in the sun. The plan was to stay put in that location for our final night. True to form though, after lunch, we decided differently. In true expedition-style, plans can change very quickly depending on circumstances at the time. We knew our way back to Loch Veyatie was upstream along the river again and as the weather was currently good, we decided to pack up camp and make our getaway whilst we could.
Within around 30 minutes, everything was packed away and loaded into the boats and we were ready to leave.
On our homeward journey, our traditional exped skills came into fruition. Entering the upstream section, we decided to pole up. I struggled to make consistent headway, which was less to do with poling skills / fitness and more to do with the fact that my lung function was reduced. Any task involving a combination of skills, fitness and determination becomes more difficult for me so rather than spend hours getting nowhere slowly, I switched to tracking my boat upstream to get ahead. From my vantage point, I was able to watch Adam standing tall with his big stick. I’m very much a visual learner so it was a good use of my time to observe and learn.
Once we were both clear of the shallow rocky rapids, the water still wasn’t deep enough to paddle. Adam carried on poling whilst I carried on tracking. The river bank was very undulating so rather than risk falling over and snapping my ankles, I decided to get into the shallow water and wade, dragging my boat behind me. It was hard-going and I will happily admit that I became progressively more bad-tempered and frustrated.
Adam did attempt to offer me advice but I was too busy ploughing through the icy-cold water to listen to him. I wish that I had paid attention sooner though because his advice was to shorten the length of my swim lines to reduce the amount of drag on my boat through the water. Once I’d done this, I made much quicker progress and my veil of self-inflicted grumpiness soon lifted to reveal my usual cheery self!
Often during multi-day trips, things can become challenging and at the same time, seem worse than they actually are. These moments can be due to many factors such as fatigue, conditions, health and terrain. Afterwards, having overcome these temporary difficulties, we appreciate just how much we’ve achieved and how far we’ve come in our journey.
As the river began to merge with Loch Veyatie, the water again became deep enough for us to paddle again. I eagerly jumped back into my boat and powered away. After only a few minutes, the wind speed picked up and Adam and I exchanged knowing glances of anticipation. This could mean only one thing. It was time to set sail again!
It was a slick transition from paddle power to sail power and within no time at all we were effortlessly cruising on Loch Veyatie. We had no particular agenda other than to find a suitable place to pitch camp for our final night. Like a gift, the wind was smooth and consistent and blew straight down the loch, so allowing us to sail downwind and tack across wind with ease, our boats carving beautifully in the turns and our sails flicking overhead with each change of direction.
The previous days of sailing practice paid off as each of us took turns to sail and recce small areas of land that heralded the possible promise of a place to pitch for the night. It was wonderful to effortlessly and precisely sail around headlands and turn in small bays without pausing, as we searched for a pitching place. Several spots were worth disembarking for and doing a recce on foot although in comparison to our previous perfect locations, we were reluctant to make do with a rough pitch for our final night.
As the light began to fade, we decided that we may as well head back to the Hatchery which proved to be the right decision as we found a perfect Terje-sized place to pitch right near the water’s edge. It was somehow fitting to spend our final night at the place where we’d departed several days previously.
It was a great end to a perfect adventure.
Acknowledgements
“I’d like to extend my thanks to Justin Snell of Hou Canoes (www.houcanoes.com) for his guidance in selecting a new all-round expedition boat. As a professional Canoe Guide, I ask a lot from my boat. My new Highline Prospector is a dream to paddle, it performs beautifully on both open water and moving water throughout.” Adam.
“I’d like to say a big thank you to Kjetil Knudsen at Nortent (www.nortent.no). He has thoughtfully designed a brilliant combination of a lightweight tipi, groundsheet, inner tent and stove which is suitable for paddle expeditions all year round. The craftsmanship is superb and I’m incredibly fond of Terje the Tipi and Red Hot Stig the Stove.” Angela.
Last but definitely not least, we’d both like to mention Bill Todd at Freebird Paddles. (www.freebirdpaddles.co.uk). The legacy of Downcreek Paddles lives on in Freebird Paddles and offers a seamless transition in terms of paddle design and craftsmanship. Rockguard tips come as standard and because they have an extensive collection of handcrafted paddles in stock, the dispatch time is usually within 2-3 days. Worldwide shipping is also available.
