Keppoch looks innocuous. There are no steep hillsides to climb, no crags to avoid, no rivers to ford and yet there are reports of paths that disappear into the woods, barbed wire fences and hostile farmers. I’m wary.
The road from Arisaig ends at the last house, all boarded-up windows and peeling paint, before a waterlogged track begins. A woman with a collie walks towards me, keeps her head down, and does not acknowledge my presence. After an appropriate pause, I turn and look behind me. She stands at the top of the bank, watching before entering the house. Not an encouraging start.
The track vanishes, replaced by a marshy shoreline. It’s a different challenge to the hills yesterday, but variety is part of coast walking.
A rocky outcrop blocks my path. A quick scramble to the top reveals a steep drop on the other side. I could climb down the smooth slabs, but the shore is all wet rocks, and it’s safer to find another way through a thicket of trees.
It takes a little while to find a route down to the shore, following a stream not shown on the OS map, moving between well-spaced birch trees.
The tide is out, allowing easy access to large expanses of white sand surrounding several rocky islets. I imagine it’s easy to find yourself cut off by the incoming tide.
I give any farmhouses a wide berth, keeping to the rocky shore, eventually cutting across to the road at the closest point, pushing through dense undergrowth and scrambling up a bank.
The road leads past a beautiful beach at Lon Liath. I ease down the slope and lie back against the grass, enjoying coffee and chocolate out of the cold wind.
Pulling out my handkerchief, I find a most unwelcome passenger. How did that get in there? Time for a full body check in the shower tonight.
The road weaves inland, passing Silversands Stables.
The signs for Silver Sands make sense as I approach the bridge over the River Morar and sit for a while. The gloom does not do the place justice, but there is no golden hour today.
A sign offers a break from the main road via a three-mile cycle route to Mallaig on minor roads. I have my doubts, as the verge walking is easy, but perhaps this will be a more scenic route.
Reaching the river, I clamber down the rocks for a better view. I’m gradually piecing together the landscape like a hiking jigsaw puzzle. Yesterday, I walked along the side of Loch Morar, and here the full force of the water rushes out to the sea.
It’s no surprise to find a small hydroelectric power station.
The road loops through Morar and back to the main road. It would have been a lot quicker to stay on the verge. The remaining few miles into Mallaig are forgettable and pass quickly with music. Perhaps a ferry trip tomorrow — Knoydart or Skye?
Total distance: 5,557 miles.
Didn’t realise ticks could survive the cold weather.
They are indestructible!
Woah…..ticks ……………….I remember mushroom picking in France once and my partner at the time came home with a few clinging to his thigh and groin ………………such fun. As for the lady with the collie – I think if she lives alone she was probably very wary of a strange man approaching or else she was just miserable. Thanks for the great photos as usual.
Well that brought me out in a cold sweat! 😬
Odd, as there are so many campsites on route
The campsites are all north of the peninsula, accessible by road.