MEMORIES OF THE CAPE WRATH FELLOWSHIP
It was the summer of 1968. I was a raw, 16-yearold youth awaiting the results of my “O” levels before becoming a sixth former at a local school in Derby.
It was in July that Anthony (a schoolmate) and I embarked on a hastily arranged cycling holiday, commencing in Scotland. Our equipment was basic; I had a steelframed Dawes Realmrider bike with 5 gears, of which only 4 worked. Anthony had a Claude Butler with 10 Campagnolo gears. We had bags strapped to our bikes at front and rear, which were bursting with what proved to be mainly non-essential items!
Somehow, we had secured a lift from Derby to Inverness in the back of a lorry which was full of tyres. I remember the journey was endless and uncomfortable, but it didn’t cost us a penny. This was where our cycling journey started.
On the first day of cycling, we set off across Sutherland on a single track road with passing places. The scenery was incredible and I saw my first golden eagle, soaring over a forested hillside. In the middle of nowhere, I recalled we stopped to allow a car towing a caravan to pass by. The car then stopped in front of us and a beaming driver stood in the middle of the road with his arms folded would you believe, it was our woodwork teacher from school - what were the chances of that?! It later resulted in a rather “testing” evening at his house watching a slide show!
We stayed overnight at Durness Youth Hostel, a large wooden building not far from the rocky shoreline. Whilst there, we chatted to a group of Dutch cyclists and a couple of walkers from New York on holiday in Scotland.
Our destination the next day, and one of the main objectives of the trip, was to cycle to Cape Wrath on the Northwestern extremity of the Scottish mainland. The morning dawned bright and clear with a cool breeze. There was no direct road access onto the Cape Wrath peninsular so we had to ride to a little jetty at Keoldale and get the ferry across Durness Sound. The ferryman was a cheerful man in a rowing boat who loaded our bikes across the “sharpend” and rowed us across for a nominal fee. He wished us well and agreed to meet us later in the day on our way back.
After disembarking, we set off on a rough road that was built to service the Cape Wrath lighthouse. It was heavily potholed and strewn with loose rocks. Some sections were very steep and
others overlooked the coastline which comprised of rugged headlands and white sandy coves. The temptation of one of these coves proved irresistible to two hot and sweaty young cyclists!
Leaving our bikes on the track, we scampered down the rocky slopes to emerge on a beautiful stretch of gleaming white sand. Stripping off our clothes, we skinny-dipped in the cold Atlantic Ocean. We laughed and shouted and danced in the waves. I was 16 years old and it was my first time away from home. I felt free, I felt invincible - it was a moment in life that I will never forget.
The road to Cape Wrath seemed much longer than its actual 10 miles. The landscape was incredibly remote and desolate with rocky peaks and areas of boggy marshland laced with small white flowers and cotton grass. Cape Wrath itself was a lonely place with a lighthouse on the edge of the cliffs and several outbuildings, but no sign of human habitation.
The seascapes were dramatic with Atlantic waves crashing on the cliffs and seabirds screaming overhead. We lingered for over an hour, sitting on a rock and deep in our thoughts. I felt a long way from home and for the only time in the whole trip, I doubted my ability to cycle home from this remote, lonely place.
On the way back to the Keoldale ferry, a lone cyclist rode towards us. We stopped to exchange pleasantries but he just rode past us at speed and grunted. I thought that perhaps that was why he was on his own, or maybe we were spoiling his enjoyment of the solitude. Strangely, the ferryman had not seen any other cyclists on that day!!
Once across the ferry, we headed south, away from Durness to our next overnight stay at Scourie Youth Hostel. From Scourie, our homeward journey took us down the beautiful west coast of Scotland, then across the southern uplands.
Finally, we roughly followed the Pennine Chain back to Derby.
The weather was mainly fine with only a couple of soakings, so we were very fortunate with that. We stayed mainly in Scottish and, latterly, English Youth Hostels - none of which were pre-booked, and we were always
accommodated. This was undoubtedly helped by a Hostel policy - particularly in Scotland - that visitors had to arrive by foot or bicycle - as opposed to any form of motor transport.
Daily distances travelled ranged from 35 miles to 135 miles and neither of us had even had one puncture or mechanical issue. The whole journey took just over three weeks. Our fitness levels seemed to grow as the journey progressed but, on reflection, a couple of rest days would have been beneficial.
Every day was a new adventure and we stayed in some glorious locations, particularly along the west coast of Scotland. One that stands out in my memory is Glenelg Hostel. It was on the shoreline looking out to the Isle of Skye. I saw my first otter on the rocky coast during an evening stroll - just magical. I understand that Glenelg Hostel is now a private house and I am sure that a lot of the other Hostels we stayed in have suffered the same fate.
The final few miles of the trip seemed unreal, we were both quiet and maybe dealing with the “journey’s end” in our own way. We finally waved to each other and went our separate ways. I remember that no-one was in when I arrived home, so no “heroes return”!
Some three months later I received a large envelope through the post
- it was my Cape Wrath Fellowship certificate. I remain extremely proud of it and sometimes reflect on that great adventure, completed over 50 years ago.
My recollections are fading now and I still have the bike (needs a refurb), a book full of Youth Hostel stamps and several postcards, which I sent home en route. Unfortunately, neither of us had a camera at the time.
I have since completely lost touch with Anthony - the last I heard was that he was living and working in the northeast of Scotland. On reflection, I think I am content to remember him as that freshfaced and carefree young teenager with whom I shared an amazing journey.
So there it is. I hope you enjoyed my account of the expedition - to be honest it has been good to put my memories in writing before they disappear altogether. At the time, it was undoubtedly a learning curve for a 16-year-old and instilled in me some traits which remain to this day - namely perseverance and determination.
The Cape Wrath Fellowship was founded in 1949 and still exists today. I understand photographic evidence is now needed, whereas we just sent an account of our journey.
The following year, we returned to Scotland with the same bikes but went off-road down lonely glens and across mountain passes - but that’s another story...