Strome Ferry that is, no the one wi the Bridges.
As soon as I heard about the landslide and the replacement ferry, I wanted to nip up there and give it a hurl. But crap weather , family stuff etc got in the way until last weekend. Arty Hexhead and I set off asap after work. We took the usual route - Stirling, Callandar and Glencoe. The weather in Glencoe was perfect - a rain washed sky and a westering sun really showed up the detail in the rock faces and the snow on the high tops. And hardly a soul on the road to appreciate the grandeur of the area. That's the way it is up here at this time of year. Eat yer hearts out south of the border!
A stop at Fort Bill at the Morrison's for a curry (sorry GC, it’s just too handy) and a cuppa and then off again. Up the great glen, then Spean Bridge and Glengarry and Glensheil. Ohlins equipped Arty was leading the way through the Glen wi me trying (very) hard to keep up when I noticed big (and I mean big) four legged, antlered beasts on either side of the road. Either side meant that some had already crossed the road. And if they had crossed the road once ... I throttled back a bit.
By the time we got to Sheil Bridge, it was getting near dark o'clock and we pulled into the petrol station to decide what to do. The petrol tanker we had overtaken a few miles back thundered past. Arty thought there was a campsite a couple of miles short of the Kyle at Reraig, so we headed for there, overtaking the tanker again on the way. We got to the place - no campsite. So we doubled back, meeting the tanker again. He must have thought we were crackers!
Heading back to Ardelve, we pulled into the camp site and started setting up the tent. Within minutes, a diesel pick up arrive with yer man asking for 16 quid. 16 quid! Confirms everything I ever thought about farmers. Grippy buggers! Except them that farms in East Lothian of course.
The night before ...
The morning after ... (A certain well known castle in the background.)
I had a really good night’s sleep courtesy of a new sleeping mat and next morning we headed for the ferry. Some wag had altered the famous road sign ...
But when we got to the bottom of the hill, it was only fekkin closed again! They had just opened the road a day or so before and the ferry had to go back to Glenelg for its overhaul prior to the season opening up. (It was the same Glenelg - Kylerhea ferry well known to many Tossers here.)
Two fed up Tossers trying to see the funny side!
What to do? No brainer! Head for Applecross. Over the Bealach, stopping for a few pics ...
and then a bacon piece and a blether to the folk in the pub.
They have some pics there of a Six Day's Trial from the 30s. Proper ruffty tuffty bikers in them days ...
Then back again to Lochcarron where Arty upset the girl at the shop by helping himself to petrol. He thought the sign said “Help yourself “ .
Er, no ...
Doh!
We came home via the Spean Bridge Hotel for some grub
thumb2 recommended) and a wee shuftie at the Commando museum there. Then cut over to the A9 via the A86. Three hours and 500 odd miles on the odometer later we were home.
Roll on the next landslide!
As soon as I heard about the landslide and the replacement ferry, I wanted to nip up there and give it a hurl. But crap weather , family stuff etc got in the way until last weekend. Arty Hexhead and I set off asap after work. We took the usual route - Stirling, Callandar and Glencoe. The weather in Glencoe was perfect - a rain washed sky and a westering sun really showed up the detail in the rock faces and the snow on the high tops. And hardly a soul on the road to appreciate the grandeur of the area. That's the way it is up here at this time of year. Eat yer hearts out south of the border!
A stop at Fort Bill at the Morrison's for a curry (sorry GC, it’s just too handy) and a cuppa and then off again. Up the great glen, then Spean Bridge and Glengarry and Glensheil. Ohlins equipped Arty was leading the way through the Glen wi me trying (very) hard to keep up when I noticed big (and I mean big) four legged, antlered beasts on either side of the road. Either side meant that some had already crossed the road. And if they had crossed the road once ... I throttled back a bit.
By the time we got to Sheil Bridge, it was getting near dark o'clock and we pulled into the petrol station to decide what to do. The petrol tanker we had overtaken a few miles back thundered past. Arty thought there was a campsite a couple of miles short of the Kyle at Reraig, so we headed for there, overtaking the tanker again on the way. We got to the place - no campsite. So we doubled back, meeting the tanker again. He must have thought we were crackers!
Heading back to Ardelve, we pulled into the camp site and started setting up the tent. Within minutes, a diesel pick up arrive with yer man asking for 16 quid. 16 quid! Confirms everything I ever thought about farmers. Grippy buggers! Except them that farms in East Lothian of course.
I had a really good night’s sleep courtesy of a new sleeping mat and next morning we headed for the ferry. Some wag had altered the famous road sign ...
But when we got to the bottom of the hill, it was only fekkin closed again! They had just opened the road a day or so before and the ferry had to go back to Glenelg for its overhaul prior to the season opening up. (It was the same Glenelg - Kylerhea ferry well known to many Tossers here.)
What to do? No brainer! Head for Applecross. Over the Bealach, stopping for a few pics ...
and then a bacon piece and a blether to the folk in the pub.
They have some pics there of a Six Day's Trial from the 30s. Proper ruffty tuffty bikers in them days ...
Then back again to Lochcarron where Arty upset the girl at the shop by helping himself to petrol. He thought the sign said “Help yourself “ .
Er, no ...
We came home via the Spean Bridge Hotel for some grub
thumb2 recommended) and a wee shuftie at the Commando museum there. Then cut over to the A9 via the A86. Three hours and 500 odd miles on the odometer later we were home.Roll on the next landslide!
