We decided to focus our efforts and attempt to paddle a West Highland loch and set our sights on Loch Morar and , if conditions were favourable , a portage over to Loch Nevis and exploration of its eastern reaches .
We set off from Ullswater in the Lake District , not knowing if snow gates would be closed en-route and relishing the opportunity for a proper winter adventure . We were in Fort William six hours later , stopping off for final provisions ahead of the final push towards Loch Morar . As we approached the beach at our planned launch point , the sun was setting and painting a glorious sunset over the loch , and we instantly knew we were in for a very special trip !
A final kit and weather check ahead of an early night , and we were good to go . Waking early , we readied kit and canoes before dawn and launched into a stunning sunrise with mountain tops painted with dancing sunshine .
REMOTENESS As the last few dots of houses slipped past us , the remoteness of this magnificent loch soon became apparent . We soaked up the moment and reenergised our souls with uninterrupted views .
Wind conditions kept us on our toes , which meant that despite the clear blue skies , a reasonable degree of technical and tactical paddling was called for in order for us to make good progress .
One of the objectives for the trip was to recce the bothy at the eastern reaches of the loch on day one and then head back to the portage point overnight before the attempt on the portage and exploration of Loch Nevis the following day . This is where comedy moment number one struck !
BEWILDERED I had been without a watch for some time , and after what felt like a solid two-hour post-lunch paddle , I called over to Kirst enquiring as to the time . “ Just gone half three mate ,” came the response . A quick map check and ground orientation later left me bewildered – surely , we must have paddled further than this by now , but if that ’ s the time , we should abort on the bothy attempt for today and look for somewhere else to overnight instead .
Fast forward an hour , and we are holed up in a derelict wriggly tin sheep hut and making ready for the weather we knew was due to arrive in the next 12 hours . By this time , Kirst has taken off his buoyancy aid and glances at the watch strapped to it . “ Bugger ,” came the retort , “ I never rewound it an hour when the clocks changed !” That would explain it !
Not to worry , it gave us reasonable time to practice some bushcraft skills in the last moments of daylight before an extraordinary evening of stargazing . The true remoteness of our location hit home ; free of all light pollution and save for the noise of the loch , free from all noise pollution – genuinely remarkable . We headed off to bed , Kirst on the slope and me nestled against the wriggly tin sheets next to the shore .
It must have been around 03:30 when I woke to rain , and then snow blew across my face and comedy moment number two .
ThePADDLER 101