Summers are made for biking adventure! So are autumn, winter, and spring, but there is a special wanderlust that kicks in when schools are out of session, days are long, and temperatures are high. This year we took our adventure-by-bike across the pond, as 9 cyclists converged for 6 days of riding the steep hills, wind-battered coasts, and winding single-track roads of the Outer Hebrides of Scotland.

Along the way we experienced honesty boxes full of score, “Passing Places” where cars, trucks, RVs, and bikes yield to one another, and community Co-Ops that served us well as lunch and dinner stops. We rode over 200 miles, captured as many as 200 videos/photos (each?), and breathed at least 200 sighs of contentment. My memories are jogged by images (moving and still) from a DJI Mini 3 drone, 3 GoPros (handheld and bike-mounted), an iPhone, an Android, and a Canon DSLR.

Some might describe cycling the Outer Hebrides in a stormy and overly warm (most of the time) July as “Type 1” fun – that’s fun while it’s happening AND once the trip has wrapped, as you reflect on the journey. There may, in my opinion, have been a few moment’s of “Type 2” fun – that is, hard, or even miserable, in the moment, but wonderful in the retelling and in our memories.

You be the judge! Here’s a snapshot of how our 6 days of cycling went:

June 27 – Columbus to Toronto; Toronto to Edinburgh (Air Canada)

Not everyone had smooth connections, but getting to Edinburgh, then Glasgow, and then Oban, where we began out cycling adventure together, required plane, bus, bike, train, and my own two feet. For a look at my experience of getting to Scotland, check out my “Getting to Glasgow, Scotland: it’s Half the Fun” blog post, linked below under Related Links.

If you came for the cycling stories, read on.

June 28 – Edinburgh airport to Glasgow Buchanon bus station (City Link); Glasgow to Oban (Scotrail)

Once we landed in Edinburgh is was a precarious walk to Glasgow Queen Street Station, because we were loaded down with our carryon bags, suitcases, and backpacks. We didn’t have our bikes yet, thank goodness. While it would have been easier to put 1/2 of our gear onto the bikes if we had panniers (which we did not yet have) I don’t know how I would have juggled a bike and a large suitcase.

[A travel-related aside: This trip was on the heels of a work trip to Washington, DC and my suitcase did not make it home with me, on the flight from DC. In a pinch, I shopped for some travel essentials and used a backup suitcase that was much larger than the one I’d intended to bring on the trip. The silver lining is that our tent fit into the larger suitcase, but I also made the mistake of filling any extra space with clothes, toiletries, travel items, etc. Rookie mistake — I overpacked. I know better, but I did it anyway.

Most of our party was gathered on the Scotrail train from Glasgow to Oban. We were waiting on just one member of our cycling party to arrive. Flight delays put her one day behind the rest of the group. We had each made our own plans for lodging and for activities before/after the bike portion of the trip, so we kept on.

In Oban we shared an AirBnB with another couple. It was a 2-bedroom villa-like home, with an eating area that opened onto a balcony that overlooked the harbor, from high above. After getting up the hill we’d earned the view. It was so high above town that we strategically planned how many times we’d need to walk up the hill to the lodging. The first trip up to the AirBnB was with all our personal belongings. On arrival, we all spread out on the front balcony to divide out what we’d need for our cycling adventure and what we could leave behind with our luggage.

There was a great deal of discussion about what we’d need. I’d overpacked, for certain.

Then it was down the hill to Oban Cycles to pick up our rental bikes. Eight of us were on Ridgeback Expeditions and we had one Giant eBike in the group. It was an easy process and the bike shop provided with: bikes, helmets, panniers, locks, and a tool kit with inner tube, patch kit, and basic tools. We were set!

We ate seafood on the harbor, then had our first pub experience, complete with a drunk fisherman who, long ago, had played football (soccer) for Eriskay FC (Football Club). We passed the pitch later in the week. Our companion was bold enough, and drunk enough, and friendly enough, that he kissed one of our cyclist friends on the head. She didn’t object, but seemed a bit puzzled. There was no live music – just a jukebox and dart players. There was a dart tournament wrapping up and being celebrated – the team had previously tied, so this was the rematch.

Later on our bike ride we rode past the Eriskay FC pitch, with its uneven surface and stunning costal location, as described by FIFA, the governing body of soccer. We were glad to have a little context about the place, from our new friend.

June 29 – Oban to Kerrera roundtrip (Caledonian MacBrayne ferry)

We rode just 2 miles from our AirBnB to take our bikes on a 4 Pound ferry ride from Oban to the island of Kerrera. We rode a short 2.5 miles to the Kerrera Tea House, with hills steep enough, and covered in enough slippery sheep poop, that I walked up a couple of the inclines. It was my first day on this bike, and I wasn’t about to injure myself with excessive exertion or a fall before our bike route officially began.

The tea house was welcoming, the hospitality was warm, and we soaked up the unexpected sunshine. (You might not think you need to bring sunblock with you to Scotland, but consider throwing a travel-size bottle in your bike bag.) While others enjoyed tea, crisps, soup, and other snacks I wandered about taking photos of sheep and their lambs, cute as can be.

When the group was ready we walked about 15 minutes out to Gylen Castle. The sense of history, along with some of my first coastal views of remote Scotland, were worth the soaked feet from stepping into marshy grass. I learned there’s a reason the shorter, more trampled route exists. It was a smidge longer, but a reason (more knowing) folks don’t cut across. That’s what Keen sandals are for, right?

We were back to Oban via ferry and bike, then off to Markie Dan’s pub for drinks, food, and music. They were having a 2-day music festival with local musicians, kids dancing in the streets, and adults indulging in pints of beer and wee (or not so wee) drams of whisky. The music wasn’t Scottish – it was just a fun, joyous, celebratory time and a great way to kick off our time together.

At the pubs in Oban, and all around Scotland for that matter, I was surprised at the number of vegetarian and vegan options available. It might not have been a traditional Scottish experience, but the world is changing and evolving, to the point that I’m not so alone anymore as someone who eats a mostly vegetarian diet. It also means that I have less excuse to try the more traditional, and meat-heavy, local cuisine when I travel internationally.

We rode just 12.5 miles total for the day, which was a great warmup for the days ahead of us. Getting used to a new bike, which will be laden with camping gear and supplies for 6 days, takes a beat.

June 30 – Oban to Castlebay (CalMac ferry – 5 hours and a little seasickness)

We had calm waters on our 5-hour ferry ride, until we passed Isle of Mull. Out in open water there was little to hold back the wind and waves. Dolphins loved it! I was returning from the cafeteria with my food when I noticed that everyone was gathered at the massive windows in the observation lounge, at the bow of the ship. “Ohhhhhh!” and “Ahhhhh!” What was I missing? Dolphins! Lots and lots of dolphins.

Saddened that I’d missed the show, I hung out a bit longer at the windows and was lucky enough to see a trio of dolphins bow-riding, leaping out of the water in unison as they went. They were playing, or looking about, or fishing! The CalMac & Cheese I’d brought back was enjoyed while I kept one eye on the water, in case our dolphin friends made a repeat appearance.

We arrived in Castlebay, named for the castle in the bay. Our first stop was the Co-Op, to stock up on dinner supplies. We were the only members of our group who were camping, and we planned to cook dinner on our camp stove. I knew we’d be very satisfied, after a light drizzle, with potato leek soup, crusty bread, and Scottish cheese – a perfect way to end the day, in my opinion.

Climbing a short hill, coming away from the Co-Op, I took the first tumble of the trip. The weight of the bike, and all its gear, got away from me as I made it almost to the crest of the hill. Unaccustomed to the heft of the bike and its gear I decided to stop and walk the last bit of the hill. Still getting used to riding as a group, there were other cyclists pretty close on my tail. I’d hollered out that I was stopping, but was uncertain whether I’d been heard. I turned over my right shoulder, to assess what was behind me, lost my balance, and just could not right the bike as it tilted left.

I then demonstrated, in slow-motion (so I’m told) how to tuck and roll into a backward summersault. I rolled right into a ditch. My feet passed over my head and I wondered how far I’d fall and when the descent would come to an end. The ground, covered in wild grasses, was soft. I splashed into the bottom of the ditch with a laugh. Well, I’d gotten that over with! I’d “taken one for the team”. I needed help standing the bike back up — it was, just about, “wheels up,” having followed me partway into the ditch.

All was well – the ride continued. We waved to the other cyclists, as they rode off to their hotels and AirBnBs. It was about 12 miles to Barra Sands Campsite, where we’d set up our tent in the rain. With embarrassment (or pride) I can say this was the only time on the entire trip that “This sucks!!” escaped from my lips. I envied my traveling companions, with their warm beds, hot showers, and catered breakfast.

Thirty minutes later I was rewarded with a walk on the beach, the most beautiful ‘golden hour’ of slowly sinking sunlight, and a rainbow! Cameras and the drone were by our side as we were greeted by a heard of heifers and their calves, meandering and playing, looking beautiful under the colors of the rainbow.

“And when it rains on your parade, look up rather than down.
Without the rain, there would be no rainbow.”

Gilbert K. Chesterton

Oh, and the potato leek soup, crusty bread, and local cheese did not disappoint. 

July 1 – Barra to Eriskay (CalMac ferry)

We woke up, rested, to a snail on top of our tent! I could see it from the inside, cruising overhead. There was so much moisture clinging to the tent, creating a snail-friendly environment. Was it the same one we’d seen on our way down to the beach the evening before? Doubtful. Did I tell myself he’d followed us back to our campsite from the beach? Perhaps.

It was about 4 miles back to the ferry, where we were counting on coffee and a sweet treat. The small café inside of the ferry depot had us covered – my coffee was black, which is my standard, but the pastry was rich. I shared it with others in the group, along with the furry mascot on the premises. He was a sweet boy, friendly and accustomed to being spoiled.

Barra airport, which we passed on the way to the ferry, is the only commercial airport on the island, and the only airport in the world with service that lands on a beach. Perhaps we can fly in one day. Our group, with our bikes, has been split in two, to take the ferry, so we met up with those who’d been on the 7 am ferry once we landed. When we got to Eriskay, it was another steep climb up from the ferry. We kept our eyes peeled and got a glimpse of the Eriskay FC pitch. Remember the drunk guy from the pub? He played there long ago, and the pitch is still in use.

I remember this day as being one of many stops. We had good weather and there were cafes, shops, historic sites, and natural landscapes that caught our eye. One understanding the group had, from the beginning, wat that anyone was welcome to stop at any time — to rest, to sightsee, to eat, to take a ‘bio break’, to photograph sheep, to investigate an honesty box, etc. We were glad to be there, enjoying the scenery and stretching our legs.

Have I mentioned that there were NO mechanical difficulties on the entire ride? This seems like a good time to mention it, now that we’re safe at home! Having bike tools and tubes along with us was a necessary insurance policy against flat tires and broken chains. We were very fortunate to have a group of 9 cyclists chugging along with no serious issues with our bikes.

At the very end of the ride, I did notice that my seat was wobbling back and forth a bit, in need of a bolt tightening. I was quite lucky – the bolt could have snapped! With nothing holding it to the bike, I would have had a very uncomfortable experience, had my seat fallen off and ended up on the side of the road. This would not have made for a highlight of the trip, to say the least.

This day we rode 32 miles and ended up at Otters Edge campground on Benbecula. Again, we were the only campers in our group. The seasonal staff was incredibly welcoming, giving us a tour of the store, the showers, and the common area where we could charge our devices, eat a meal at a table, and enjoy hot coffee.

We walked down the road a short distance to Dark Island hotel, where some of our companions were staying, for dinner. I lifted my vegetarian ethic and tried bits of black pudding on my pizza. It was okay, but the cheese and leeks that were also on the pizza added such strong flavors that I hardly tasted the black pudding. Thinking “What’s the point, then?” I picked much of it off and enjoyed the pizza just as well.

The ‘alternate’ route back to our campsite was along the water. We walked on the beach and then up and over sand dunes blanketed with bushy tufts of tall grasses. It was romantic, walking hand-in-hand down the beach, in no hurry at all. The sunset was (again) beautiful and peaceful. Oyster catchers, long-beaked birds that prance along the edge of the water, were about. We picked just the right spot to make a sharp right turn toward the dunes. We climbed. Our campsite was just on the other side.

I couldn’t stop taking pictures, which is typical, I suppose. I was glad to be there, beyond fortunate to be in such good company, and lucky to be on such an adventure. Everywhere I looked there was a bit of nature that spoke to me — light on the water, a soft breeze moving through the tall grasses, the sound of so many birds that aren’t native to Ohio, and the smell of sea and sand. I hope my photos, and the videos in the links below, do Scotland even a little justice.

The 36 miles we rode that day were over in a blink!

July 2 – a day of riding bikes in Scotland, no other transportation required

We had an early start the next morning and rode 43 miles to East Beach on Berneray. We were surprised, again, by the sunny weather. There was rain in the forecast, which is to be expected. We were on our way to “wild camp” on the beach, but we were undaunted.

But first, we had some adventuring to do, sights to see, and vistas to take in.

Some of the cyclists in our group had done a great deal of research about the route, the towns we were passing through, and the sights (and sites) along the way. They knew what was coming up on the route before we got to each photo opportunity. I was, admittedly, surprised when we came upon Scolpaig Tower. I’m unsure of what to say about this “attraction”, so I’ll let the tourism sites speak for themselves.

“While it might resemble something closer to a medieval castle, this tower on the Hebridean island of North Uist actually dates to the end of the United Kingdom’s Georgian period in 1836. This folly was the idea of Dr. Alexander MacLeod, owner of the estate where Scolpaig dun was located. Duns are Iron Age stone fortifications common to some places in the British Isles, which were often built on artificial islands in the middle of bodies of water such as lochs.” (Atlas Obscura)

“Built on the site of the Iron-Age Dun Scolpaig and surrounded by a low stone wall, the now-roofless structure features a string course between its two storeys, a window in each of the eight faces of the upper storey and a crenellated parapet. It was B-listed in 1971 and can be reached by a stone causeway when the level of the loch is sufficiently low.” (Scottish Places)

“This castellated folly was built on an island in a small loch by Dr Alexander MacLeod of Balelone. But don’t be fooled by the Victorian appearance; the tower was built with stone scavenged from an earlier Iron Age dun. So you could stretch a point and call Scolpaig a dun, but that would give the wrong impression of the site.” (Britain Express)

It was a sight to see – so we stopped to photograph the tower, the surrounding wildflowers, and the landscape, including the placement of the tower. It was picturesque. It was also a bit out of place, standing there in the distance, built out of the remains of another structure just for the sake of creating jobs. (“It makes sense if you don’t think about it.” ~ Doug (Doug and the Business Cats website)

At this point our group had split into two again, with some folks ready ride on and get to their destination. Others were stopping pretty regularly, in no hurry to keep up. The sun was shining down on us; it was an absolutely gorgeous day and I was definitely in the sightseeing group.

A bit down the road we stopped again, to see a standing stone. At least one member of our party was intent on seeing a standing stone while in Scotland, so I think this experience made his day! We were also just about at the 100 mile mark, so we honored our tradition of doing a “100 Mile Dance” and sending a video to a couple of friends who were not able to make it on the trip.

I should note that there was no buzzing sound coming from the stone, as far as I heard. Try as we might, not one of us was transported back to 1745. Perhaps it was because we didn’t have a gemstone to offer up. Well, I had a gem stone (in my wedding band), but I wasn’t willing to give it up for the cause.

This delightful. scenic day ended in “wild camping” on the beach, which is permitted in Scotland. It would be our last day of camping, so I was determined to pitch our tent, despite the chance of rain. It wouldn’t be the first time on this trip that we’d set up camp in the rain. We’d hauled all that camping equipment across the Outer Hebrides, after all, so in my heart I wanted to camp as much as possible. When I saw where we could set up camp, and the amazing view of the beach, I had no hesitation.

The rain and the wind held off until overnight.

Since we weren’t at a campground there were no facilities whatsoever. In need of a shower and hoping to charge our devices, we rode to a nearby hostel, paid for a bed for the night, and took advantage of all it had to offer. That included a hot shower and a well-stocked kitchen, better than the one I have at home. The views were amazing and we were in good company.

We chatted with our fellow travelers, including a vicar who was on a cycling trip himself. He’d had two tents torn up by the wind and had decided to spend the rest of his trip right there at the hostel. “I’m done with the bike,” he told us. In fact, he’d taken a bus to the hostel, walking the remainder of the way and would need to go back for his bike, once the weather cleared. He’d eat the tub full of camp meals he’d packed and had plenty of reading material.

That freedom and flexibility is just so refreshing! It was also a chance to find some peace and quiet — he loves his congregation, he said, but needs to get away sometimes, to be with his own thoughts. We talked about everything from football to American politics. He’d visited the US, spending the entire summer there at one point, and was interested in hearing about Ohio. We explained that Columbus is unique, being a state capital, home to a major university, and a hotbed for retail test markets. It runs a bit more liberal than the remainder of our conservative state.

We were there for the conversation, the electricity, and the running water. We headed back to camp for the night, managed to stay dry, and took in the views.

July 3 – Berneray to Leverbrugh (CalMac ferry)

There was a climb to get our ride started, coming away from the ferry. Did I mention that this is common? We rode a mile, at the most, before stopping at the Harris Community Shop, where we found everything from groceries to screwdrivers, school supplies to local art pieces, and – of course – Harris Tweed. I wasn’t in need of a handbag, backpack, change purse, or luggage tag but I thought it would be fun to buy Harris Tweed in Harris. So, I found a small art print with a matte made of tweed cloth. It will be a nod to our trip, hanging in our home.

The cahier, it turns out, had worked in Columbus a few years ago. “It’s a small world,” I said. “It’s a small world,” my father would always say. The world gets smaller and smaller, as I age – or maybe it’s all the travel I do. 

Along the way, we discovered we had a hitchhiker. The snail may have crawled up onto the bike overnight, before we awoke and headed out on the ferry, and was sheltered by the handlebar bag, but there he was. As we paused at an overlook, at the top of one of the many hills, he strutted out onto the handlebars to have a look himself. We dropped him off, a bit far from home – roughly 20 miles. About half that as the seagull flies, so perhaps he could hitch another ride home.

Much of our ride that day was in the rain, but I’d expected that and honestly didn’t mind all that much. I pedaled along, admiring the homes built into the hills, facing the sea with floor-to-ceiling windows for watching the sun set. There was a big climb at the end of the ride, followed by a dramatic descent in the rain, slippery and exhilarating. This day really was rain, rain, rain.

It was beautiful!

We ended up at Kirklea Island Suites, sharing a room once again with a couple of our fellow cyclists. We made tea to warm up, ate ginger cake, and played cards. We didn’t notice until late that there was a washer/dryer unit in one of the cabinets in the kitchen. I did my best to operate it without instructions, tossing in a few key items for each of us. I could have used the instructions, which we found the next morning. I don’t know what time it was when I gave up on the dryer, which may have been just a spinner. This is common in Europe. My friends woke up to laundry hanging all over the first floor common areas, mostly dry. 

It was good enough to make due, and good to have fresh clothes for the coming days.

July 4 – Tarbet to Uig (CalMac ferry)

We’d known since the night before that there was a sketchy forecast of high winds and substantial rain on July 4, with possible flooding in areas. The ferry from Tarbet to Uig was a choppy crossing, while our group was deciding whether it was safe to ride. In the end, a small group of 5 riders took on the rain and hills. The others traveled this section of the route by bus.

When it was time to start riding, gusts of wind were enough to raise some eyebrows – 30 mile per hour winds, according to the weather man. I hoped that once we got away from the harbor the wind would die down. The first stretch of the route was uphill for around 2.5 miles, getting us to almost 400 feet above sea level, so at least we warmed up as a result of the climb. Most importantly, we all stayed upright at the start of the ride.

That’s a bit misleading – we all remained upright for the remainder of the day.

I’d been cautioned about the difficulty of this part of the route, even before we arrived in Scotland. It was hyped up in my mind so much that the sustained uphill wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. I was mentally preparing myself the duration of the climb, as if we’d arrive at the tough climb any moment. I credit this experience, of not realizing we were already on the tough climb, to being a stronger cyclist than I realize or give myself credit for. And the scenery, even in the rain, was breathtaking. The scenery was breathtaking because of the rain.

We rode cautiously and stayed close together, ensuring everyone remained safe. I don’t have as many photos of this day because I was too focused on riding. When the road was slick and the grade of the hill was steep, nearer to the end of the route, the safest thing for me to do was to get off and push my bike. There was a line of cars queued up behind us. By walking the bike I was able to hug the curb, walking in the wide patch of grass, with the wheels of my bike as far to the left as possible.

I’ll admit, it was a long 16.5 miles to the Rosedale Hotel.

We arrived around lunchtime and were absolutely soaked to the bone when we arrived, too early to check in. We grabbed the nearest coffee, but that didn’t warm us up. We hopped around to a few shops, seeking out the warmest spots we could find, which were few. The entryway of the drugstore had a hot air ‘curtain’ to keep the cold out. We paused there, welcoming the warmth.

Eventually the chill in the air, combined with clothes that would never dry in these damp conditions, drove us back to the hotel to schmooze our way into our room early. The kind receptionist put us at the top of the list of rooms to clean, walked over to check on the room herself, and even turned the heat on for us before returning to the lobby to hand over our keys.

Within minutes of our arrival the contents of our panniers were emptied and strewn across the floor, the bed, tables, windowsill, and bathroom. I wasn’t convinced things would dry, but I had to give it a try. That afternoon I took a long, hot bath and was relieved that we were not camping in Portree that night. If that had been the plan we just might have bailed and booked a room.

Later that evening our group came together to enjoy live music and drinks at 1820 Pub. I had my first fish & chips of the trip and did not feed any scraps to the resident dog-o, as I was playfully (but seriously) instructed. We were getting close to the end of the time that all 9 cyclists would be together. Only 2 of us planned to ride the last day of the route. In the week that followed, some would fly home to the states, while others explored Edinburgh or moved on to other parts of Scotland.

My eye was on Dunbar, Scotland and I’d spend the next 5 days or so there. You can read about this part of the trip by checking out my “Colorfully Stunning: You Can Recover from a Busy Week in Peace, in Dunbar, Scotland” blog post, linked below under Related Links.

But there was one more day of riding to go and I planned to finish the route. (Spoiler alert — it was a most stunning route, so you’ll want to see the photos!)

July 5 – Kyle of Lochalsh to Inverness (Scotrail)

Our friends weren’t planning to ride the final segment of our route, but they showed up to see us off on day 6 of our Scottish adventure. They shared spare bike lights, extra snacks, and their enthusiastic encouragement. It was a dark, overcast morning and we had another long, steady climb to start the day. We’d see 7 or 8 miles of a consistent incline under a heavy sprinkle, with just the two of us riding.

We were expecting an adventure and were glad for it.

A good Midwestern thunderstorm was a treat when I was growing up and I’ve maintained my affection through the years, so the grey skies didn’t bother me as long as we were safe. The darkest clouds were a little intimidating, but not enough to stop us from riding – it was our last opportunity on this trip to see some of the more remote parts of Scotland by bike, before traveling back to the city, turning in our bikes, and heading to the harbor town of Dunbar, for some respite.

Our bodies would need some physical rest. Our brains would need some mental, emotional, and spiritual rest. We weren’t ready to head back to the ‘real world’ of responsibilities, interruptions, and important business. I hoped our time in Dunbar would be a period of quiet peace before leaving the country. But wait – we had a full day of adventure ahead!

Seriously, look at those smiles!

One nonnegotiable was that we were intent on stopping at Sligachan, to put our faces in the river. Why? For the promise of eternal beauty, of course! Is the river enchanted by fairies, as we’d heard? Is there black magic at play? The views are spectacular and the bridge is iconic, but did I really have to get on hands and knees, to submerge my face?

For how long?

“You must dip your face in the water, not bring the water up to your face. To do this you must get on your hands and knees at the water’s edge and fully submerge your face for seven seconds. Be warned, it is Scotland, the water is far from warm. Also, you can not wipe the water off, you must allow your face to dry naturally. And that is how you gain eternal beauty from the faeries at the Old Sligachan Bridge on the Isle of Skye.” (natpacker website)

What are we really talking about here?

Superstition? Of course! A bit of fun? Absolutely! Whimsy? Always!

“There’s a little bridge in Sligachan on the Isle of Skye. A small stream runs below it, and you can look up to a mighty mountain. Many travellers would never think to stop there to have a look around. It’s just another beautiful stream in the Scottish Highlands. But that’s because they don’t know this water has the magical power to grant you eternal beauty.

No really, it does. We’ve splashed about here thousand times and we’re stunningly beautiful.
Or at least that’s what our mums tell us.“

The Story of The Enchanted Waters of Sligachan ~ Rabbie’s

We were up for anything, but if you take a glance at the photos, you’ll see that it’s the landscape at the bridge in Sligachan that can best make a claim at eternal beauty.

Do you see the heather on the hill?

“Oh, my love said to me, “Will you meet me by the sea?
You can kiss me underneath the misty moon.
She is stunning, she is pretty, she’s as warm as amber whisky
And as bonny as a heather on the hill (oh, my love)” (Nathan Evans)

Being careful not to wipe the water from my face (’cause, who knows?) we were back on the bikes. Scotland is full of opportunities to explore, and this was the day for it! We decided to take a back road even though it would add distance to the ride. Our detour added substantial time to the ride, but that was because we could not refrain from stopping to admire the foggy landscape, the vibrant summer flowers, the flow of waterfalls, and the simple remoteness of it all.

It was a relief to be off of the main roads, avoiding traffic and having some time to ourselves. We’d checked the cycling blogs and travel sites to make sure this less-traveled road was passable. It had once been smoothly paved, but was now full of potholes, uneven patches, and deep cracks. I was entertained by the tenacity and resilience of the wildflowers growing in the soil that had collected in the cracks. It was an explosion in yellow, purple, and white, as vibrant as an open pasture by the sea.

The road was passable, as reported, until the road just . . . wasn’t. The road wasn’t there. I mean, the road disappeared, not in a fairy-influenced sort of way, but in a “gosh, it rains so much here that the road can sometimes just wash away” scenario.

At this time, the dirt that used to run up against the road had eroded. The road was completely gone, along with the dirt on one side. A little bit of land was barely hanging on. The bikes had to be carried across the thin causeway, after removing some of the excess weight of our camping, cycling, and camera gear. My bike made it across, as did I, unphased.

And we continued on.

When we made it to town, hungry for something more than energy gummies, a food truck served us hot sandwiches and crisps. We took the time to pause, knowing that we’d miss being on bikes as soon as we were off of them.

That’s how these adventures go! We’d traveled by ferry and train, bus and plane. We’d slept on the ground and watched the sunrise over the beach. Meals had come from the Co-Op, a camp stove, pubs, the harbor, and hotel restaurants. Our clothes were wet and smelled of sweat and sheep, but none of us would notice, because we all smelled the same.

It was too soon when we rolled back into civilization. Turning our backs on the Co-Op for the first time, we bought sandwiches from that little food truck in Broadford, surrounded by shops featuring antiques and local art. An eccentric shop owner told animated tales in a thick accent I could barely understand. I remember her jovial spirit and familiarity with the art more than anything she said.

A couple of kiddos were trying to figure out what film cameras were for, on a table outside of the antique shop. The shelves inside were loaded down with old-time trinkets, knick knacks, and bric-a-brac. I was careful not to walk away with a mug featuring a hairy coo. There was no room in any of my bags and I was already wondering if I’d ever get all the clothes, camping gear, books, and souvenirs back into my suitcase for the trip home.

As we neared our ride’s end-point for the day we rode over the Skye bridge, near the end of our 37 miles of riding. We had a short amount of time to wander through Kyle of Lochalsh, but may of the businesses were closed for the day (or for good). Before we hopped onto a train to Inverness we let a couple of our fellow cyclists know we’d be grabbing a bite to eat. They stopped in for an ice cream treat, unbothered by the cold and rainy conditions.

It was a sweet gesture when they saw us off that morning and we had a day’s adventures to share with them on the train. Tossing our bikes onto the train, all mud spattered and soaked, was an adventure in itself. Europe makes it convenient to travel in this way, but did I mention that the bike was heavier than I’m accustomed to carrying around?

Passengers, both local to Scotland and visitors like us, hopped on and off the train. A young Scottish boy was delighted when we offered him a Matchbox car that had been brought over from the states, expressly for this purpose. When he wasn’t asking his grandfather how much longer it was to their destination he was quite entertained, spinning the car in the cupholder attached to the seat in front of him. The spinning car crashed to the floor once or twice, which elicited a pouting lower lip, but grandpa obliged and returned it to him.

This next bit might be unexpected, given our inclination for camping.

In a moment of luxury, and because of a drop in rates just prior to our trip, we stayed at Royal Highland Hotel in Inverness. I’m surprised they let us in, with the way was looked and smelled, after 6 days of riding and all that rain. Rain-soaked visitors are to be expected, I suppose, in Scotland.

The hotel had luggage storage, which we rearranged to make room for two bikes. We skipped afternoon tea in the hotel restaurant, but wandered about, enjoying the lavishly decorated staircase. There was art on display in the entryway and in a small gallery at the top of the stairs. There was not beach sunset that night, but we welcomed a soft bed, deep tub, and a chance to warm up. I wouldn’t trade the camping, but I’ve decided that a combo of sleeping in the tent and under a clean, warm roof is an excellent way to travel.

We had enough time in town to enjoy the charity shops, restaurants, and historic sites.

July 6 – a 6 mile loop around Inverness, returning our bikes to Ticket to Ride 

This would be our last chance to ride before it was time to turn over our bikes to the ‘sister’ bike shop to the one where we’d picked up our bikes in Oban. The two bike shops have an arrangement that caters to one-way cyclists like us. We’d return the bikes and collect the luggage we had left in Oban, full of dry, clean clothes for the second half of our trip.

I wanted to see a bit of Inverness, so we kept the bikes for another half day and made a loop around town. We merged with other tourists on the streets and walkways that were closed to vehicle traffic, seeing more of Inverness than we would have on foot. This is one of the great pleasures of cycling. Moving at the speed of a bike is just fast enough to let you experience the city, covering more ground. Moving at the speed of bike is just slow enough to notice details you’d miss if you were traveling by car, stopping just about anywhere you like. You can take the bike with your or lock it up and explore on foot.

We lingered over coffee and bakery treats, prolonging our time with the bikes.

As I said earlier, my eye was on Dunbar, Scotland next. You can read about this part of the trip by checking out my “Colorfully Stunning: You Can Recover from a Busy Week in Peace, in Dunbar, Scotland” blog post, linked below under Related Links.

There are so many parts of this 2-week trip that I haven’t shared. An artist loves to play with light, composition, and color. Be on the lookout for one more blog post with photos that express even more of the artistic, scenic beauty of Scotland.

Don’t forget to check out some of the short videos, linked below.

Will we plan a ride like this again? Most definitely!

Join me on my next adventure,

~ Kat

“Getting to Glasgow, Scotland: it’s Half the Fun” blog on Accidental Wanderlust: https://kathleenodowd.com/2025/06/29/getting-to-glasgow-scotland-its-half-the-fun/

“Colorfully Stunning: You Can Recover from a Busy Week in Peace, in Dunbar, Scotland” blog on Accidental Wanderlust: https://kathleenodowd.com/2025/07/13/colorfully-stunning-you-can-recover-from-a-busy-week-in-peace-in-dunbar-scotland/

The Most Remarkable Football Pitch in the World? | A View From The Tarrace: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZQuKCpkbCRE

Scolpaig Tower – Atlas Obscura: https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/scolpaig-tower

Scottish Places: https://www.scottish-places.info/features/featurefirst90640.html

Britain Express: https://www.britainexpress.com/attractions.htm?attraction=4963

Doug and the Business Cats: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8X30PAboXBc5XXRklNNRXw

natpacker: https://natpacker.com/destination/sligachan-bridge/

Hidden Scotland: https://hiddenscotland.com/journal/the-magical-waters-by-the-sligachan-bridge

Heather on the Hill (Nathan Evans – 2024): https://youtu.be/A9dPtRFSfjg?si=mMH1ZXMVqU5XXZEU

June 29 – Oban to Kerrera (Caledonian MacBrayne ferry) – video by Craig Clark: https://youtu.be/YoLUutQq6-A?si=g30PLjHOu98lx2qL

June 30 – Oban to Castlebay (CalMac ferry – 5 hours and a little seasickness) – video by Craig Clark: https://youtu.be/6dpBAjNiEUQ?si=SAbvKDgU_86R-u85

July 1 – Barra to Eriskay (CalMac ferry) – video by Craig Clark: https://youtu.be/JY8wYefJiZY?si=Jg9tf7dDA81EiaLV

July 2 – a day of bikes in Scotland – video by Craig Clark: https://youtu.be/niZtlouO-EM?si=9j21A9qbB1uEyjSJ

July 3 – Berneray to Leverbrugh (CalMac ferry) – video by Craig Clark: https://youtu.be/Xtbwwxnj71Y?si=UeVTcjQiHNlZJ9fo

July 4 – Tarbet to Uig (CalMac ferry) – video by Craig Clark : https://youtu.be/oQtux_mZkQA?si=_A3xj5BgBTiydFS1

July 5 – Kyle of Lochalsh to Inverness (Scotrail) – video by Craig Clark: