Moorfoot Runners Members Blog: The Trotternish Trip

It’s a lang whang to The Isle of Skye and as with any road trip the car is loaded up with everything required - plus a few things that would just never get used.
Soon in to the six and a half hour trip, we have a mechanical issue and I am under the car, approaching the Queensferry Crossing, with a knife fixing the problem.

Job done. Colin works on his laptop ,as I drive and soon, we are at the Spean Bridge chippy – much looking forward to the whale of a fish, only to be disappointed with the tiddler and chips – changed hands we assume and no longer worth the visit.

We arrive in at Torvaig Campsite, just outside Portree at around 9.20 to find it is FULL! I drive in and it is clearly half empty. I decide to head up to the owner’s house and ask if we can pitch out two tents.

We are met by a gruff - ‘Can I help you’? as the ‘manager’ meets us just outside his gate.

We mention the 6-and-a-half-hour drive and the desire to pitch our tents. ‘We were full at 8.00 tonight’ is the response (clearly an issue of how you describe your glass) The campsite to us was half-empty…We are advised to go to Sligachan – 9 miles away. Not sure how difficult it would have been to say ‘£18 quid – pitch there’ – Could have been done in 4 words. We are pretty much encouraged off the grounds.

However, he probably did us a favour - by rough camping for free – we have the pleasure of spending the site fees on beer. Not what I would describe as ‘Island Hospitality’

We have a decent pitch down by the bay and get a reasonable night’s sleep. Registration opens at 9.00 and we are there, with kit checked and maps marked.

It’s a rickety drive up the one-way tracks to Flodigarry and it looks as if the clag won’t lift for a long time to come. Navigational skills required! You can use GPX/Mobile phones in an emergency situation. It will later become clear that this IS an emergency situation. I have no GPX and my phone is charging on the front seat of my car…Oh well…

The Ridge on a clear day

53 runners are given the off and as we reach the top of the Quiraing visibility is reducing. On the descent to the Quiraing car park, it’s difficult to see beyond 40 feet. A challenge indeed!

Eventually, the downhill track is crossed and it’s a good thrash down to the car park. Colin disappeared over the top of first summit and I don’t see him until a good while later. In fact, it’s difficult to see anyone further than several meters!

Some use analogue methods with maps and bearings and some use mobiles or GPX loaded watches.

I have no phone, GPX watch and my maps have blended into a bit of a Jackson Pollock with all the rain – must get waterproof version in future.

So, mapless, I make it to CP4 by keeping the southerly wind in my face and finding a familiar fence line to follow. Conditions are appalling, no visibility, howling wind and rain – and the prospect of a 300-foot drop if it all goes pear shaped. This is the case for most of the run.

Some aimless wandering, and in the middle of all the clag, I meet up with a French runner. I ask if he knows our location. He shrugs. I am less than surprised. We climb, and climb, until eventually, I find the path again and am off.

Lost again, I descend and there in the distance, in a brief lifting of clag, is what I believe to be the lump of a hill called Hartaval (just before the Stor) I aim for the base of this and am gutted to find (later) that it is Beinn an Righ. I contour this, through the saddle – looking for someone who could tell me ‘exactly’ where I was. I now suspect the hill I can see to the east is the Stor.

I spot a croft below Beinn a Chapiull and head for this.

I open the gate and approach the door. I knock and an elderly gentleman answers the door.

‘Sorry to bother you, is that The Stor over there? I ask.

‘Yes’. He looks at my drenched appearance.

‘You’ll be needing a cup of tea’, he says and leaves the door open and wanders off to put the kettle on.

I accept his hospitality and am soon inside.

‘Just a quick black tea would be great’, I say.

He says he doesn’t get many visitors.

He’s making venison stew for dinner – with fire-baked potatoes
.
15 minutes later, he has made me 2 cheese rolls, followed by a slice of Swiss Roll.

I mention the urgency. That I am in ‘a race’ and that my club mate (Colin) would probably be waiting at the finish line wondering where I was.

We talk about crofting, as he enjoys his stew.

By now, my chances of making CP6 and 7 have disappeared – but care has left me.

An hour later he has driven me round to the bottom of The Stor, as I have requested to ‘run in’ the last mile or so. We shake hands and part company.

The irascible ‘tent director’ at the campsite should look this chap up and ask him for lesson in hospitality.

A wee dash in at the end and it’s time to bundle into the sandwiches and cakes. Colin and I meet up in the fishing hut at the end – he has my car key – so we will be able to make the trip home (arriving back in Peebles at 1.30 a.m.)

Colin had a good run, considering, the lack of visibility and came in on 4 hours 28 mins.

My last tag was bagged at CP4 – so having missed the remainder – I finished without a time – although I ran a mile more than the race distance!

Bummer… but getting a time isn’t everything.

Big thanks Sarah and James Stephenson and all the marshals ….

(Mark, Dave, Heckie, Niall, Alasdair, Jordan, Steve, Phil, Neil, Bruce, David, Kirsty, Richard, Richard, Mandy, Alistair, Morag, Sam & Clara. – from club facebook page)

Colin's addition:

What a trip and what an experience - without doubt the hardest hill race I’ve ever done - not because of the 19 miles and 6,000ft ascent but because of the conditions - with the wind constantly battering and bouts of rain and drizzle I got increasing cold until I stopped for a few minutes halfway to get all my kit on and then it was all about just getting to the end and finishing. I had to be so careful with the navigation as with the cloud down visibility was about 20-30m. My map and compass didn't leave my hands for the 2nd half and down to a snails pace taking bearings - even then I ended doing an extra 2 miles detouring getting lost and finding myself.

A bit of an eye-opener as I've always considered myself a strong navigator and I'll never underestimate a hill race again. To be honest I was seriously relieved when the race organiser picked up the message that Alan was safe and well - I knew then I would be able to rib him properly! What Alan didn't say is that he picked up a nice souvenir for his troubles after wrestling with a stag - see photo!

Alan is kind to say I had a good run - although so many people went wrong it relatively wasn't too bad 53 started, 44 finished alot dropping out a the halfway marshall point. Still about 40 mins slower than I would expected compared to other runners I recognise from last years results. This years results are here: https://www.webscorer.com/race?pid=1&raceid=183032

I feel like I have unfinished business with this one now!