Several months ago, Colette spotted a great deal for dinner, bed & breakfast at Letterfinlay Lodge. The drawback was that it had to be taken off-season, so we booked for 20th February and kept our fingers crossed the weather would be ok. Well, we were in luck, as it was a clear, sunny day with no frost, a light westerly breeze and no rain in the forecast. That meant we were on for a full-on day of cycling, so I decided that we should tackle the road to Kinloch Hourn.
The road in question starts a few miles west of Invergarry, and is notable for being the longest cul-de-sac in Britain, at 22 miles each way. No clever circular routes for us today, it was going to be straight there, turn around and retrace our steps back.
I had envisaged it to be a deadly quiet road, where we were unlikely to see another soul, but I was proved wrong straight away, as two logging lorries rolled past just after we parked in the lay-by at the start of the road. We were joined by Lynne and Keith, who also liked the sound of the Letterfinlay deal and were looking forward to this excursion into the unknown.
We all set off down the single track road shortly after 11am, finding it a bit potholed to start with, which was a little worrying. However, it started looking a lot better after that, and in fact a lot less broken up than the roads at home. The surface was very grippy, with a texture reminiscent of rough sandpaper, which must help when there is ice and snow around. There was no sign of that thankfully, although there was still lots of snow on the mountains around us.
We cycled west along the shore of Loch Garry for a number of miles, then the road started to climb gradually. The bright, clear weather and beautiful scenery meant we had numerous photo stops as we made our way westwards.
After a few miles, we passed a semi-felled forest, with impressive tree-stripping machinery and banks of logs stacked up to the size of terraced houses. We didn’t have to worry about any more logging lorries after that, though there was still the odd estate vehicle and a fair few tourists, and while there’s no way it could be described as busy, it was more than I had expected.
Further on, we stopped at our first sight of deer close to the road. We came across quite a few groups of the beasts, all female at this point. We wondered where all the boys had gone.
Loch Quoich
Nearing Loch Quoich, we started climbing steadily, as we approached the dam wall. We passed on the right side of the dam, pausing for a while before climbing a little more to reach a car park and viewpoint looking west along the loch. It was such a wonderful view. One of the drivers offered to take a group photo of the four of us, declaring that we must be mad. Well yes, it was cold out and it was nice and warm inside her car, but we were well wrapped up and having a great time.
Speaking of time, it was getting on for lunch time and we still had quite a bit of ground to cover, so we came up with a cunning plan: Keith and I would crack on, then stop a few miles short of Kinloch Hourn and get the kettle on. In the meantime, Colette and Lynne would follow on, stopping for as many photos as they liked.
So Keith and I carried on along the loch, crossing a substantial metal bridge over an inlet of the loch, and stopping round the next corner when we ran into a group of stags. So this is where they were hanging out. I didn’t bother trying to take any photos, as I was sure that Colette and Lynne would be taking plenty when they got here.
Carrying on, we left the loch behind as the road became more steeply undulating. We were heading towards the highest part of the ride, and it was certainly looking like we were heading through a mountain pass. We started looking out for a good place to stop, choosing a spot with a nice big rock to shelter us from the now stiffening westerly breeze.
I got the spirit stove out, filled the kettle and started brewing up on a bed of damp sphagnum moss sheltered by the rock. Not being on solid ground, the whole kaboodle had a tendency to keel over, so I had to keep an eye on it for the whole process. Boiling took a long time, but not before Colette and Lynne rejoined us. We then were able to have our packed lunch with a nice hot cup of tea.
At this point, there was another decision to be made. In order to reach Kinloch Hourn, the map shows a steep descent to sea level, followed obviously by a steep ascent to get back over the pass. That sounded just a little too much for Colette and Lynne, so they decided to turn back at this stage, while Keith and I carried on towards the sea.
There was still a little bit of climbing to do before we got to the highest point. We paused there briefly and had a look. A couple of surveyors were there holding up poles, one close to us and another further down, a lot further down. The road fell away steeply as far as we could see, which was just as far as the next corner. Keith asked if I really wanted to do it. I said absolutely, and off we went…
Since the road was steep and quite twisty, with occasional potholes, we needed to lean on the brakes heavily. I was glad of my disk brakes. The descent just seemed to go on and on. I was reminded of the descent to Sa Calobra in Mallorca, where you descend over 2000 feet to the coastal village, from which the only way out is back up those 2000 feet. The trick is not to think of the ascent to follow and just enjoy the ride!
For the final part of the descent, the road runs alongside a fast-flowing river crashing down a rocky bed on the right, with beautiful Scots pines alongside the river and a steep rock face to the left. Then, all of a sudden, the road becomes completely flat, taking you into Kinloch Hourn.
We passed what looks like a new house being built on the left, then a sturdy stone-built steading on the right, which is used as a B&B and tea shop in the summer season. From there, the road ran a short distance further, past a car park overlooking the head of Loch Hourn.
The end of the road for us
Unfortunately for us, there was no loch to be seen, as it was low tide. There was just an expanse of sand and mud, with the river snaking its way through. We continued along the road to the next bend, which opened up the view just enough for us to glimpse the sea, as well as the end of the tarmac road, where it turns into a rough track. After that, I felt that we had gone as far as we should, then turned around, waving to the nice lady who took our photo earlier and was now in the car park.
Meanwhile, as we had been descending the mad road to the sea, Colette and Lynne were making good headway on the return journey. They were enjoying watching the red deer as they rode past, and stopped near a house to talk to some hinds that were close to the road. The deer ended up moving right in and took food out of their hands, which must have been amazing. The fun stopped when a dog walker let her dog off the lead and then chased the deer away.
Treats for the (not so) wildlife
At that point, a lady appeared from the house to give the dog walker a good telling off for not keeping her dog under control. This was lucky, as Colette was running low on water and the lady kindly topped up her bottles.
Back at Kinloch Hourn, Keith and I began the climb back away from the sea with some trepidation. The hill looked so steep, but we got down into lowest gears and gave it a go.
Keith coped a bit better with the climb than me, but even he had to get off and push when the gradient got brutal – as much as 30% in places, according to the Bikehike mapping app. Luckily there were only a couple of short stretches that steep, but even so, the progress was very slow.
Finally, we got up as far as the first surveyor, who said something like “It’s almost here” as I passed. It wasn’t until I felt the first few drops of rain that I realised what he was on about. That soon became a proper shower that persisted for the rest of the climb and for a mile or so down the other side.
Keith was now pulling away from me and I was having great trouble keeping up. What I didn’t realise was that he wasn’t wearing a waterproof, having believed the forecast that it would stay dry. He was feeling cold and wet, so that was why he was pushing extra hard up the hills, in order to generate more body heat to stay warm.
I wasn’t without my own problems too. Firstly, I was having trouble looking out of my rain-spattered specs, but more annoyingly, my back was sore, most probably from the heavy rucsack on my back. I was also feeling depleted of energy, so it was good to have a stop when we reached the Loch Quoich viewpoint again, where Keith fed me a good slab of Lynne’s home made flapjack.
The combination of the rain stopping, hitting some good downhill to rest my legs and the flapjack working its magic seemed to rejuvenate me somewhat. The westerly breeze was also helping us towards our destination, and the reappearance of some warming late afternoon sun was very much appreciated as we completed the final miles of our journey back to the car.
I kept thinking we might catch up with Colette and Lynne somewhere, but it wasn’t till we got back to the car that we saw them again, having arrived just a minute before us. Our cunning plans seemed to work out perfectly.
We were all tired, but in that satisfying way after completing a good challenging ride. It was only a short drive in the car till we arrived at Letterfinlay Lodge for our dinner, bed and breakfast. The staff were lovely and it was hard to find fault anywhere. We had the bonus the next day of the most magnificent view across Loch Lochy with the mist burning off in the morning sun.
Our final bonus was fitting in an extra ride along Loch Arkaig before our long drive home. Scotland at its finest – it’s hard to beat.