5.1 Ard Mòr Sea Arches
5.2 Unish and Waternish Point
5.3 Beinn an Sguirr
5.4 Loch Diubaig and Greshornish Point
6.1 Meall Tuath and Rubha Hunish
6.2 Loch Sneosdal and Creag Sneosdal
6.3 Loch Hasco
6.4 The Quiraing and Meall na Suiramach
6.5 Meall na Suiramach
6.6 The Old Man of Storr
6.7 The Storr
6.8 The Trotternish Ridge
6.9 Biode Buidhe
6.10 Beinn Edra
6.11 Ruadh nam Brathairean (Brothers’ Point)
6.12 Loch Cuithir, Sgurr a’Mhadaidh Ruaidh and Baca Ruadh
6.13 Inver Tote and the Lealt waterfall
6.14 Bearreraig Bay
6.15 Sithean Bhealaich Chumhaing
6.16 Glen Varrigill Forest Walk
6.17 Ben Tianavaig
6.18 The Braes and Dunan an Aisilidh
APPENDIX B Glossary of Gaelic words
APPENDIX C Useful information and contact details
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Garsbheinn, Sgurr na Stri and Camasunary (Walk 2.17)
In compiling the original edition of this book, colleagues in what is now the Outdoor Writers and Photographers Guild (see www.owpg.org.uk) were generous with their assistance: Dr Rennie McOwan, for advice on access in Scotland; Kevin Walker, for permission to use extracts from his book Safety on the Hills; and Alan Hall, for help when my memory was floundering.
Gerry Ackroyd, Team Leader of the Skye Mountain Rescue Association, and proprietor of Cuillin Guides in Glen Brittle, read all of the walks text for me, and gave highly-valued advice and suggestions, all of which I used.
Paul and Grace Yoxon gave me permission to use their excellent booklets on the geology and prehistory of Skye as a basis for my own view of things.
I am much indebted to the many landowners and estate people on Skye who freely gave much assistance and advice, and, without exception, wished the book well.
In compiling the third edition, Donald Kennedy, Access Officer for the Highland Council, gave useful advice on a number of issues. Likewise, Helen Todd from the Ramblers’ Association (Scotland).
I am grateful to my wife, Vivienne, who accompanies me to Skye over periods of revision, thrusting food and the occasional bottle of red wine in my direction whenever I look like flagging, and generally keeps me going. Teal, our dog, comes too, testing all the bogs, pools, lakes, streams and coastal waters as only a dog that thinks she’s a duck can do.
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION
Sgurr nan Gillean (Walk 3.1)
In 1968, youthful and blissfully receptive to a new world of exploration that was only then opening up for me, I first set foot on Skye. An uncomfortable, midgebitten night in the car on the edge of Camas na Sgianadin gazing out to the island of Scalpay did nothing to diminish an enthusiasm to explore this remarkable island that has been sustained through all the following years. This was a vision of the Promised Land, full of hope and endless opportunities, a place of raw elemental forces, a land barely scratched by man.
On that first, exciting visit I travelled northwards through Portree and around Trotternish, round to Uig and out to Dunvegan, all on narrow, serpentine roads the remains of which you can still see beside the carriageways of modern-day Skye, bringing back happy memories every time I travel them. Bracadale, Glen Brittle, the Cuillin, the Elgol peninsula and Sleat, all were crammed into that hurried, mesmeric journey of discovery; it was a journey I have been making ever since, year on year, sometimes many times a year, and still, with the remarkable virtuosity for which Skye is famous among those who have fallen under its spell, I discover new nooks and crannies, odd corners never found before. It seems it will never end.
There is no compromise with Skye; you either love it or hate it, but, if you are still making up your mind, be advised, persistence does pay off. Tales of outrageous weather, days and days of a rain-lashed island, blasted furiously by winds that are as strong as any in Britain, are grossly exaggerated – true, but exaggerated. Come to Skye expecting and equipped for wind, rain and cold, and anything else is a bonus. But what a bonus!
To truly appreciate the charm of Skye you must see it in all its moods, and you must accommodate those moods, leaning on the wind, walking through the rain, and your reward will be bright, clear days of vibrant colours, of seemingly infinite interest, way beyond your wildest imagination. And you must be patient. Do not be put off – come again, and again.
But the weather is only one influence on the remarkable persona of Skye. Its geology and land forms are so diverse that the student of morphology and the landscape will find endless days of wonder here, while around its tortuous coastline the ubiquitous seas have taken their toll, and fashioned their own contribution to the Island’s grandeur. The Island’s history is a microcosm of human enterprise and endeavour, of resilience and mutual reliance on neighbours and fellow men – you don’t fall out with neighbours if tomorrow you may need them to save your life.
Yet over-riding everything, there hangs an indefinable, almost supernatural quality that breeds a deep and abiding affection among all those privileged to share Skye’s secrets. Some describe it as
