horns of wilmington's cow

By anth

Dem Bones

Woke up to a howling gale, and heavy rain. The only natural thing to do was go for a walk....

Putting ourselves in the hands of the forecast, we left the cottage slightly later than our norm, and headed to the 'Bone Caves'. It's only a couple of miles of a walk in, but as with much of the walking here it feels like you're going into another world. Setting out from the car with the strong wind to our backs, and the rain still falling, it was actually nice going, with a massive herd of Red Deer to entertain us, and then my first ever sighting of a Ring Ouzel (in the extras).

There was also the odd sight of a couple of not-insignificant burns / rivers just 'appearing' from nowhere. As the guidebook pointed out, this is limestone territory, and underwater rivers find points to bubble up. You could make out small little fissures through which the water was clearly appearing, but it made it no less weird to see.

The Bone Caves themselves were fab, and a welcome respite from the wind and the rain. They're so-named because bones of Lynx and various bears (including Polar Bear it appears) have been found there. They range between 15,000 and 20,000 years old, and it's thought that hunters would shelter in the caves with their booty. Nowadays the caves are just a really intriguing visit, and all the better for most people being too sensible to venture out in this weather.

And we weren't the only ones using them for shelter - pretty clear evidence of raptors, possibly Golden Eagles, in a couple of the caves. After first realising this there was then a certain sense of trepidation on entering the next...

The rain abating, and even some sunshine coming through, it seems the forecasters were largely correct (even though the occasional squally shower still hit us as we descended). The Ouzel came out again (with the same poor shots grabbed in the still-howling wind) and we met a nice young couple on their way up, pointing them in the right direction, though concerned for his well-being dressed in all-cotton tracksuit and hoodie despite the conditions...

We headed south (after devouring the pies we had bought at the Lochinver pie shop on the way, washed down with welcome hot tea from the flask we'd popped in the car); and wandered into Corrieshalloch Gorge juuuuuuust before a German tour bus disgorged its contents. The gorge was surprisingly, almost head-spinningly, deep as you reached a restored suspension footbridge over it, and the Falls of Measach. 60m all the way down (shot in the extras, with people on the bridge for scale!).

The viewpoint, built out from the rock a couple of hundred yards downstream, despite jutting out wasn't quite as vertigo-inducing, so we headed back to the bridge, having to wait as the newly-arrived German tourists headed over at the 6-at-a-time maximum prescribed by the signs all around.

As I write a G&T has been drunk, and I'll be heading to make dinner shortly, while the wind still fights a battle against everything that's not supposed to move, though the rain, thankfully, seems to be less frequent.

Last full day tomorrow, but it has felt like a long trip, and we're coming back next year. Decision made, along with a week back on Lewis.

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