On a calm bright Sunday 22nd August after a wet night, we left Ullapool campsite and its midges behind us and trundled down to the ferry office to collect tickets. We passed an hour with a takeaway flat white from a nearby deli, reading local history about the klondykers, Eastern bloc factory ships in the 1970s. We then parked up at the front of the car queue ready to board just behind the motorbikes.
At 11am one of the ferry staff nodded a signal and the bikes roared into life in front of us, the cars following suit behind. We briskly chased the bikes onto the ferry and knotted our bicycles to the ferry using the allotted rope. First on, we hurried up decks as high as possible right to the front and bagsied seats in the observation room overlooking the bow with our bar bags and food panniers in tow, leaving them like German towels in the best seats. We hurried aft in time to see the ferry move off and Ullapool harbor front drift astern.
The crossing was serenely calm with hardly a breath of wind as we glided up Loch Broom and out through the summer isles. There were frequent exclamations from other passengers as pods of dolphins appeared at frequent intervals nearby. Gannets also flew past low to the water as we cruised into the Minch.
The 3 hour crossing went by quickly, helped by tea, coffee and various snacks. Lewis appeared on the horizon quite early on, covered in cloud, and we arrived to grey skies. We watched a deckhand throwing the bow line ashore before scurrying down to our bikes, still safely secured, and rolled down the ramp and into Stornoway.
We knew that arriving on a Sunday would mean a lot of closed signs, and had stocked up accordingly, but the quiet sleepiness still came as a pleasant surprise. We walked around past the marina and found a couple of open cafes, but decided to head up to the campsite just north of town past Lews castle before exploring further.
10 minutes and a short hill later and we arrived at Laxdale holiday park, with a grassy tent-only area below the facilities, including a small campers kitchen. Tent up, we set to washing some clothes to dry in the afternoon sun. Other cyclists arrived, one couple just having completed the Hebridean Way from South to North. There were also a pair of eco window salesmen who had to camp due to a lack of accommodation and who started to drink wine at 5. As the wind dropped, it wasn’t long before midges started to appear, and we got cracking on tomato pasta dinner and beer, retiring early to the tent.
Monday morning dawned sunny and we found a spot with gentle breeze to avoid midges over breakfast. Before packing up, we headed down to the local co-op to gather supplies for wild camping. Hannah found a pack of local smoked scallops which we enjoyed with oat cakes for brunch back at the campsite. By noon we were on our way north out of Stornoway, climbing uphill steadily and into the peat moorland which covers the island. The road was straight and with only an occasional car and empty coach (which turned out to be the local bus service).
After only 5 miles we reached the end of the uphill, 100 m above sea level. The near total absence of trees gave us views across the island to the west coast as we began a cruisy 11 km descent to Barabhas and the west coast road of the Hebridean Way. We turned right to go northeast to reach the Butt of Lewis, with a gentle cross wind, and climbed gently again through the village of grey pebble dash houses and neat lawns. The next 25 km involved gentle ups and downs through moorland broken by strip villages, the sea tantalisingly out of view to the northwest. Half way we came across Ness community cafe and museum, a good pit stop, with fascinating photo exhibit on the annual guga hunt (young gannets) of the Ness men on the uninhabited island of Sula Sgeir, 40 miles north of Lewis. They use red hot fires to scorch off the down feathers in order to prepare the birds for winter storage.
Mid afternoon we moved on the final few miles to Eoropie village, passing what we didn’t realise was one of the only pubs on Lewis. A sandy track past a playground with a reminder on the gate to ‘respect the sabbath(!)’ led us to the coast where we searched for the best camping spot, eventually settling for a grassy area overlooking the North end of the beach. The first wild camp was a little daunting, but we knew legal and it looked like a well used spot. We were backed up soon after the tent was up by another couple of cyclists pitching 50m away.
Robbie felt hot and restless so was sent of into the gentle surf to cool off, as a lone surfer caught a few 2 foot waves at the other end of the beach. A brief plunge did the trick and Hannah followed suit before pasta dinner. Sun broke through the evening clouds soon after and we went for a cliff top walk north towards the Butt of Lewis, seeing two kayakers paddling in the glassy water below. We came back past a memorial to the tragic sinking of a local boat just offshore in a storm so severe that no help could be got to men clinging onto the boat within shouting distance. Hard to imagine in the tranquil water before us. A beautiful sunset later ended the first day on the Hebridean Way.
Pedalling_Patagonia 