The Long and Winding Road that Leads…..To The Goat Sanctuary

If you’re going to walk out to Knoydart via Glendessary at the head of Loch Arkaig, this is the day to do it. Unfortunately this photo is not that road and not that day.
The actual day was 2 days later…..

Having walked out to Sourlies a few years ago, with a 15kg pack and the prospect of sleeping in a bothy alone with ghosts and ghouls - or worse - NOT being alone, the only thing making me determined to repeat the journey was that I wasn’t staying in Sourlies and I only needed to carry party jeans, shoes, clean pants, eyeliner and a toothbrush. And I got to take Spook with me. The worst weather of the year but the promise of the warmest hospitality at the other end plus Shooglenifty playing in the new Inverie Village hall - we would be wet, but that was as bad as it would get. We were going to visit Mr F and The Goat Lady. Maybe even catch up with Mr Brown and the goats.

The dog was not impressed as he was getting left behind.

Spook was test driving a new waterproof jacket for Goretex, so I was allowed to borrow his Lochaber Mountain Rescue jacket as it might make me less in need of rescue.

Estate house up in the mist, Glendessary

Rivers rise fast in heavy rain but we risk assessed each crossing and if we thought life and limb was in serious jeopardy then we’d have to turn back. As long as we were sure we could manage the last crossing high above Loch Nevis. At that point the time it would take to turn back would mean ultimately walking with head torches, and hours before we could get in signal to let them know we were safe but not going to turn up. So we’d already planned to take the path-less route round the loch that sits above the descent rather than the marked path. This meant not having to cross the last river.

First risk assessment. Don’t think it would meet any health and safety requirements. But it was either this or climb almost to the top of the hill to avoid all the streams feeding into the main river.

Not liking it one little bit. Winter boots keep your feet dry but they are rigid and slippery on wet wood.

The ‘bridge’ is at the forest line.

More climbs to seek narrower crossings over 3 or 4 rivers of varying width but similar force.

You just keep walking, in the words of Ken, the hermit of Treig.

Until we got to the wee lochan and had to cross near the watershed to make it passable and take the non path over a turf covered bolder field with yawning gaps just waiting to grab us.

Hard going. Not much more than a kilometre but it did include a nice Lord of The Rings type feature…..

Thankfully nothing grabbed us here, either. First sight of Loch Nevis is always an exciting and rewarding one. At this stage we had circumnavigated all obstacles except the descent and a bog. And I hadn’t even started complaining.

Although it was tempting to start complaining at the next bridge….

The first bridge hadn’t even deserved a sign. Not liking it one little bit.

I got a wee bit delirious at sea level and became convinced I was camouflaged in my orange jacket in the autumn colours and insisted on playing a game of ‘Can ye see me noo?’

Aye!

Can ye see me noo?

AYE!! Can we please just keep going??

Sourlies is only welcoming when you have no choice. It was a bit messy and it’s always disappointing when folk don’t clear up after themselves. If you can carry it in, you can carry it out. The down side of not staying in the bothy is that there’s still another hour of walking. If the tide was low it would be a stroll across the shore, but the tide was in so it was a wee hill scramble and a bog walk.

Sun was getting low, and after the bog walk and bridge there’s a lengthy enough walk to The Goat Lady Sanctuary.

Suddenly we noticed Mr F and Stalker D sitting in the wee truck on the other side of the river. The long walk was coming to an end, thank goodness. We’d been on the go for 5.5hrs. The most welcome sight. When we arrived there was a bath already run for me which I had no intention of ever getting out of. Until I smelled dinner.

This is definitely not Sourlies!! A night in by the fire would be the perfect end to the day. But no - there was still a boat trip in the wind, rain and darkness.

I wanted all of what Mr F was wearing and much much more. But not required, he said. I’d be in a nice warm cabin.

This picture completely belies the true situation. I (facing Soook and The Goat Lady) was gripping the table and unable to turn my head to watch for the welcoming lights of Inverie in case I tipped the boat. Mr F’s mum, Amanda was with us and warned me that it’s always a bit rough going through the Narrows. Aha! So this is the Narrows? Not yet, she replied.

The two men at the pier knew were coming and had watched for the lights. Firm hands helped us off the boat as it lurched about. Now all we had to do was dance about a bit before getting back on the boat. Covid rules are strict at Inverie Hall and you must wear a mask. After that, you can wear what you like….

Fun as it all was, this day was not done until I was safely tucked up in a cosy bed. Back on the boat and with the west wind behind us the journey felt much easier. What a relief. Until we were near the estate pier and the big swell meant we couldn’t get along side. We’d need to jump onto the wee Pioneer and motor over. Great. Just great. With my emotions running high I gripped Spooks hand and said don’t let go of me. The 12 and 14 year old Canadians that were with us hopped over the gap like gazelles, into safe hands. I wasn’t hopping over ANY gap. Suddenly the gap closed, I dropped Spooks hand and in a Titanic moment, launched myself onto the wee boat. There was no room for Spook and Amanda. Sorry. Dire emergencies reveal ones true nature.

And in my case, it revealed a snivelling coward. I could hear Amanda and Spook laughing in the wind. Thankfully the wee boat did go back for them. Not that I cared.
Huge thanks to Mr F and Skipper D for getting us to the gig and home in one piece.
Next morning - breakfast in The Goat Sanctuary before our hosts insisted in helping us to avoid that hour long bog walk to Sourlies before we started the climb up to the lochan. Another west wind swell, the wee boat and a couple of beach landings……

Spooks laughing - again.

I’m crying. At this stage, I’m pretty sure I’m NEVER leaving home again. I’m certainly never going back to the bloody Goat Sanctuary. I never even saw a goat or a donkey because they were so wisely keeping out of the storm.

But then you look at The Goat Lady, and you know you’re coming back.

Whilst Mr F is probably hoping we never come back. Looking after friends out here is a highly skilled operation.

They landed us safely and then just had to get back across the bay into the headwind and then make themselves a nice cup of tea in their cosy kitchen. What most folk don’t know is that The Goat Lady trained with the Special Forces, and we were honoured to witness a rare performance of the SBCR. A very tricky manoeuvre that you must never try at home. The Sea Bourne Commando Roll.

Classic.
Of course there’s still a 5 hour return trek ahead. The wonderful thing about the fast rising rivers is that they drop incredibly quickly, allowing us to make every single crossing in the right places without diversions. No tricky Boulder field or extra climbs. Just icy feet.

Home via the easy side of the lochan. Wind behind us. Woohoo.

Once back on the Glendessary estate road, there’s still about a 50min walk. It should probably only take 30, but someone had filled both our boots with cement. Only when it was safe to do so, did we acknowledge how truly knackered we were.

Thank you to our lovely pals at Camusrory on Knoydart - we were a wee bit broken when we got home, but so happy we’d had such an amazing, never ending (really - I did think there was going to be no end to it) adventure in safe hands. Hot bath, delicious food, lots of laughs and loads of support. You are a fantastic team.
I’m coming in by Chopper next time. Xx