After a long (delayed) flight, nearly missing our connection in Reykjavik, and a short hop to Glasgow, we met our friends Leah and Brett. We had some excellent Indian food before reassembling our bicycles, packing up the car, installing a rather unorthodox bike rack, and heading north past Loch Lomond towards our weekend destination: the Isle of Skye.
The Isle of Skye is a mess of geology that was once the seat of the power of Clan MacLeod and Clan MacDonald. It also has excellent walking and spectacular scenery, which were primary motivations for the four of us.
Outdoor pursuits in Scotland are mostly governed by two factors: the weather and the midge report (http://midgeforecast.co.uk/). Skye was rated a midge of 3 for the weekend we were going to be there, so we were hoping to find a camping spot with as much wind as possible. Midges' only real strength is their numbers. Otherwise, they are weak, slow little bastards, swept away by a little breeze, UV, rain, or cold. The pulloff with camping spots we found turned out to be enough in the wind, so we set up the tents with only a few midges following us. We then headed off to find dinner at the nearby pub, which turned out to be packed to the gills with visiting walkers, climbers, and general tourists.
The next morning, we headed for the nearby trailhead for several hikes in the Black Cuilins, a mass of gabbro sculpted into steep peaks during the last glacial period. We headed out from the car park and up the hill, heading for a hanging valley with a tiny loch amidst the peaks.
On the way down we passed a crazy (or at least very skilled) guy carrying up his mountain bike. We kept looking to see him hurtling down the steep rock slope, but when he did ride down it was very, very cautiously.
The heather in bloom.
