Driven to extremes
Heather Moscrop joins Driven to Extremes’ ten-day tour through the Scottish highlands and islands to reach Saxa Vord, the most northerly point of the British Isles.
Adventure through the Scottish highlands and islands to reach the most northerly point in the British Isles
AT LAST year’s Adventure Overland Show in Stratford-upon-avon, a familiar face popped a leaflet through our window on arrival. We hadn’t seen adventurer Mac Mackenney for quite a few years, and he was promoting his Saxa Vord 2018 charity rally. Around a campfire and a bottle of sloe gin, the interest was piqued, and within a few weeks, we had signed up.
Fundraising and vehicle and kit prep began immediately, because although we use our Defender 90 for vehicle adventures and camping, we would be covering more than 2000 miles in two weeks and camping at different sites most nights, so the gear had to be lightweight and efficient, and the vehicle ready for all eventualities.
Day one saw us set off for Scotland from North Yorkshire and when we stopped at a motorway services we noted a Discovery 3 with a roof tent; interesting, I thought. I spied a couple walking out of the services and with a feeling of Land Rover sixth sense, asked them if they were with the D3. The answer was yes, followed by: “Are you going to Saxa Vord?” “Yes,” I replied. “We are Nick and Nicky.” “Cool, I’m Heather, and this is Mark, nice to meet you, we’ll see you at The Green Welly Stop.” This was the first planned rendezvous location. And with that, we were off and back onto the road. The adventure had begun.
At the Green Welly Stop, we spied a Defender 90, and a similar conversation ensued: “You must be here for the Saxa Vord?” we asked. “Yes, we are Grahame and Karen.” “Heather and Mark, nice to meet you.” Now just to wait for Mac Mackenney in his Discovery 2 Td5 (Guinness World Record setter, London to Cape Town 2010), two servicemen (Eric and Tug) and two veterans
(Harry and Trevor) in a donated Audi Q3 and Q7, and Phil the photographer, also a veteran, plus four couples of privateers, Mark and I in our Defender 90 Td5, Grahame and Karen in their Defender 90 300Tdi (beautifully restored and fitted out), Nick and Nicky in their D3, and Mark and Ness in their Mitsubishi L200 (having abandoned their D1 in a field, attached to a horsebox). Other non-land Rover products are apparently available, I know – crazy, right?
We spent the first night at the Ballachulish Hotel, getting to know each other over dinner, and I admit I hardly slept that first night – excitement got the better of me. In the morning, the guys had stickered up all the vehicles and fitted radios for contact throughout the event. After a quick briefing of the day’s route and some convoy and radio protocol and checks, we were off. Almost as soon as we’d set off, we were stopped at Fort William, for our first of many supermarket and fuel stops. It became a running joke between the Defender owners needing fuel most days, and the guys stopping to buy a meal-deal lunch.
Our first day’s drive included a stop at the Spean Bridge Commando Memorial, where we raised a glass, and culminated in the awe-inspiring Applecross Pass, a meal at the Applecross Inn, and an overnight stay at the Hartfield House Hostel in Applecross. Midges aside (and they weren’t too bad), the Defenders and Disco 3 camped in the field behind the hostel, serenaded by the cuckoos and owls in a most beautiful setting.
Day two we all set off in convoy and radio banter started before we’d even left the driveway – a theme that continued throughout the trip. We took in Loch Ewe and the Arctic Convoy Memorial and Museum, on our way up Scotland’s spectacular west coast.
Our Saturday stop saw everyone camping at Badrallach, an isolated campsite down a seven-mile single-track road on Little Loch Broom. Suppers cooked and eaten, driftwood was gathered and the campfire started. With no ferries the
following day, a good night around the campfire resulted in a lay in and a slightly later start.
Sunday, we diverted from the North Coast 500 for a detour across the peninsula north of Ullapool, with scenery akin to the Wild West rather than the West of Scotland. We then rejoined the NC500 and took in all the sights as promised, with a well-deserved stop at Cocoa Mountain at the end of what had seemed like a very long day.
Our campsite that night was at the Sango Sands Oasis, on the coast at Durness. Unfortunately, the weather came in, and after a quick supper we all retired for an early night. It continued to rain all night, and with the slight slope of the camping field, a few of us found that we had slid down our camping mats during the night and the bottom of our sleeping bags had soaked up the rain where it leaked through the tent seams. Fortunately, the campsite had tumble driers so we were able to pack up the sleeping bags dry. Sadly, the same cannot be said of the tents, which were dripping wet.
The grey drizzle and fog continued throughout the day, obscuring much of the north coast, as we made our way to Scrabster and the ferry to the Orkney Islands. This ferry was only about 90 minutes, and we did manage to see The Old Man of Hoy as we passed on our way into Stromness. Northlink Ferries, which sponsored the event, upgraded us to the Magnus Lounge, and even gave us a tour of the bridge, which was special and much appreciated.
As we arrived at Orkney, the weather had still not improved, and as there would only be two couples camping that night, we all opted for the hotel option, as the Standing Stones still had available rooms. It was with much relief that we all had a dry, warm bed to sleep in and the chance to dry out our other gear, apart from the tent, of course.
Tuesday morning the wind was still blowing but at least it was dry. We pitched the tent in the hotel gardens and headed out onto Scapa Flow, courtesy of the hotel owner, Alan, for a personal tour on his powerboat. The rest of the day was free
on the itinerary, so after repacking the vehicles with dry gear, we all headed out on our own to explore the many options available on the small islands, with some of us opting for the Neolithic history and others the wartime history. We all regrouped in Kirkwall for the overnight ferry to Lerwick in Shetland, for a very smooth crossing.
Wednesday morning Shetland brought out the finest weather imaginable: clear blue skies, lots of sunshine and hardly a breeze. A few members of the Shetland Land Rover Club met us and I cannot thank them enough for their friendliness and hospitality over the next few days. We headed down to the bottom of mainland Shetland; the only time I have ever experienced a level crossing where the main road (only road!) crosses the airport runway. The Shetland LR guys took us on a tour of their most spectacular sights on the island – from the top of Fitful Head at just under 1000 feet, to the stunning tombolo beach at St Ninian’s Isle, where we stopped for lunch, the obligatory photo at the 60°N sign, and the off-road site where they snared their victims (us) in the Let’s-get-the-visitors-stuck-in-the-peat game.
Nick in the D3 immediately felt the soft ground underfoot and beat a controlled retreat to the hard gravel track. The D2 and Defenders seemed okay at first, until we were trundling up the hill and lost our left rear wheel in a hole. The radio message went out and with a quick tug with a tow strap courtesy of the P38 V8, we were on our way again, lesson learned for next time when faced with peaty moorland and a Defender loaded up for a two-week overlanding trip!
Wednesday night the Shetland guys treated us to a BBQ feast at the Bridge End Outdoor Centre in Burra, where Nick and Nicky in the D3, and us, had chosen to camp (while the others chose the hostel). A calm, clear night, camped overlooking the small bay, with daylight still at 10 pm – I could get used to this island life.
Thursday, we were again hosted by the Shetland guys, who arranged an early opening at the café for breakfast, followed by a private tour of the Scalloway Museum (again, early opening), then we were off on a few more tracks (no moorland this time) and a couple of ferries, across to the Island of Yell and finally Unst, our destination.
We all collected a couple of rocks to start a cairn at Saxa Vord, in memory of the people who had made the trip, and the reasons why we were there. When we started on the restricted military road to the top, the wind was blowing and the fog had closed in, but by the time we made it to the very tip of Shetland, past the old radar base at Saxa Vord, the fog cleared enough to open out to the most spectacular view of cliffs and ocean. We had made it, to the most extreme northerly driveable point in the UK. Wow!
Thursday night we stayed in the hostel at Saxa Vord, in the old accommodation, and enjoyed a lovely meal while being entertained by the Shanty Yellmen, arranged by Ian from the Shetland LR Club (we even got to meet up with them again the following day to receive our CDS of their music).
I think we all felt a bit subdued; the goal of the trip had been attained, and we now had the journey homeward, but still with great scenery and friendships made.
Friday morning a few of us made a detour via the Shetland Distillery to buy some of their award-winning gins, before heading back down again via a couple of short ferry trips.
There was one more drama . . . The other Defender and the D2 managed to fall prey to the peat and had to be recovered, while the Shetland guys skilfully drove their Land Rovers to the top of the hill for a view down over Lerwick.
It was with sadness that we said goodbye to James, Jim, Ramsey, Ian, Hunter, Mark, Sherry and the boys, and sent our best to Ray and the others who had been with us the previous few days, but I’m sure for many of us it will not be our last trip to Shetland.
Friday evening Northlink once again upgraded us for the crossing to Kirkwall, followed by a dash across to Stromness to board the B&B ferry for Scrabster. This was a slightly strange experience as we all parked up and handed our keys in at reception in the ferry port, and boarded as foot passengers. The ferry only sails at 6.30 am, so it loaded the vehicles as we slept. We ate yet another hearty breakfast and arrived at Scrabster at about 8.am, ready for our last day on the road.
We completed the NC500 route eastwards and south, stopping for the photo opportunity at the signpost at John O’groats, and finished the day at Fort George, where Harry’s brother had opened up the parade ground for us, flanked by two Foxhound armoured vehicles. A rather fitting end to our perfect journey.