Extras for Wednesday--Old Man of Storr

The Old Man of Storr towering over us,

Me at the sign after my fall—a bit muddy but successful,

later in the day the Old Man of Storr stands proudly IN THE SUNSHINE!

Wednesday, May 27--Climbing the Old Man of Storr--Oops!

After a delicious breakfast prepared by Ray, we checked the weather. The report was that the rain would stop soon, then there would be about a 2-hour break before the winds grew to over 25 mph, so we went to Columba 1400 to check our emails then headed south to the Old Man of Storr. The rain seemed to be over and we planned to take advantage of that 2-hour break. I like the mountain breezes, but heavy winds on top of cliffs, I don’t look forward to. At the beginning of the climb, the path takes you through a dark and wonderful tree-lined walkway. It climbs pretty quickly, gaining altitude steadily. The entire path was about ¾ mile and climbed over 1100 feet in its ascent.

Once we exited the forest, the pathway became more rocky and muddy from the rains over the last few days. Looking back, we could see the Storr Lochs, the island of Raasay and the mainland beyond. We were about ¼ of the way up to the pinnacle when TODAY’S rains (which were supposed to be over) began. Steady and cold. The path became muddier and more slippery, so the going was more difficult. But we kept plodding on up the twisting path, the Old Man of Storr still towering above us, the rains non-stop.

The whole place was magical, the jutting rock formations looking like ancient castles perched on the Cliffside. The pinnacle itself is over 160 feet high—the height of 11 double-decker buses—and its rests on a 600-foot cliff. It was created when sedimentary rocks below the basalt gave way under the weight and masses of basalt slipped downwards in landslips. The head of the pinnacle hangs over the base and the rock is decomposing basalt lava, so it truly looks like it is ready to topple over. Only one man has ever climbed the pinnacle itself and reported that it was so crumbly, it felt like he was climbing porridge.

At the fork in the path at the base of the Old Man, we went right and uphill to the Needle, a jagged tower with two holes through it. We were now even with the pinnacle. I saw an intimidating sign up ahead warning of where rockfalls have made it dangerous to continue behind the Old Man. I got within 10 feet of the sign, “You are not advised to go beyond this point,” and what did I do? I was climbing up the last part, eyes o the sign, and I stepped on a grassy part of the path and I slipped and fell. I fell! Hard! Into the mud! I was so shocked, it happened so fast. One minute I am so happy that I have reached the top and the next, I am lying face forward in the mud. I called for Ray and he hurried back to help me up and help get most of the mud off my pants. I had mud on my coat, on my pants, my shoes, and even my camera! I must’ve had my hand on it in my pocket, and, when I fell, I pulled it out to catch myself. And mud under my fingernails—yuck!

So there I am—covered in mud, my eyeglasses so wet I can’t see a thing, and all I want to do is get up to that darned sign so I can say I went as far as I could. Picture taken with the sign and I was ready to head down. Ray acted as my brakes on the way down the steep and slippery, sloping path. So much for weather predictions.

We made it down easily and went for a snack. Saw a sign for a Car Boot Sale—I assume this is like our yard sales? Then we took the B885 out of Shulishadermor (don’t you just love these place names? Culnacnoc, Letterfinlay, I always wonder where they come from.) The moor-like land along this road was boggy and treeless, perfect for peat-gathering.

Once we reached the end of this road and turned onto the A863, the scenery changed to green velvety hills and trees. There was a big broch in Struan but we didn’t stop. Off to the left were MacLeod’s Tables. These are two flat-topped mountains near Dunvegan. The story of the mountains is fascinating. It goes that Chief Alasdair “Crotach” MacLeod attended a banquet at Holyrood and was challenged by a lowlander as to whether his home in Skye could match the magnificence of Edinburgh. MacLeod answered that he had finer. The king overheard this and MacLeod invited him to Skye to see for himself. When the king arrived in 1540, MacLeod held a banquet on the summit of one of these “tables” with clansmen bearing torches during the great feast. As MacLeod explained to the king, his roof was grander, his table more commodious, and his faithful vassals more precious than any silver candlesticks in Edinburgh.

Also near here is the Glendale Monument that we saw the other day. Glendale is the largest and most fertile valley on Skye, cut off from the rest of the island until recently. They even received their supplies by boat instead of land and supposedly have very distinctive inhabitants. The women were known for their looks and intelligence, and their gift for flower arranging, of all things. This area was a victim of the Clearances, resulting in the depopulation of Skye to provide pasture for Cheviot sheep. Between 1840 and 1883, 35,000 people were evicted. The population of Glendale in 1775 was 11,250. In 1981, it was only 8,500.

A typical edict would read: “To all crofters in Glendale. Take notice that you are warned to be ready to leave your homes at 12 noon on August 4th with all your baggage but no stock and proceed to Portree to board the ship to Nova Scotia where you will be given a free grant of land from Her Majesty’s Government. If you disobey, you will be arrested and sent to prison. Any one over age 70 with no relatives to care for them will be sent to the Poorhouse. This is final and no appeal will be considered. God Save the Queen.”

In 1882, a group of crofters led by John MacPherson (one of the Glendale Martyrs honored by the monument) stood up against the Clearances and the oppression of the people. Their actions led to the Crofter’s Holding Act of 1886 and assured that Glendale was the 1st area on Skye where the crofters owned their title deeds.

Just as we turned a corner, I saw a golden eagle with its flat, straight tail. This island is known for these creatures, and I had had my eyes out for them. I also saw a lamb, playfully wrestling with its mother and this other large bird with a grey body and dark black wings and tail, which was fan-shaped. I don’t know what he was. We visited St. John’s Chapel ruins in Caroy. It is said that this church and graveyard are haunted as they were built over a prehistoric burial mound and a fairy ground. Some have claimed to hear the fairies singing. We didn’t hear any fairies, but there was a distinct spooky feeling to this area with its rusted wrought iron railings and old gravestones. So rusted was the gate that when I closed it, very gently mind you, part of it broke off in my hand. It was like the whole graveyard was crumbling before my eyes.

We drove back through Portree and headed directly for Kilt Rock as the sunny part of the day was here and with not much wind—the part of the day we had hoped for with the Old Man of Storr climb. Just below Kilt Rock is Mealt Falls. Here the wind is so powerful at times that it reverses the water in the waterfall there, sending it back up the cliff face and over the main road and into the loch on the other side. We didn’t see this happen as the winds were offshore today, but it sounded exactly like what happened in my previous visit to Neist Point that I mentioned in an earlier blog.

Kilt Rock is a cliff where dolerite was formed as a sill when molten magma rose from the earth’s crust to pool beneath softer rocks and cooled slowly. The softer rocks then eroded slowly to reveal the dolerite. The vertical black basalt and horizontal strata make it look like tartan fabric, therefore a kilt. There is a tall waterfall here, too. As I stood by the railing taking pictures, the wind came up and seemed to sing! Whether through the railing like a tuning fork or just a natural occurrence, I don’t know, but it was beautiful. Sort of like hearing fairies sing or playing flutes. I took a video so I hope it posts on my blog so you can hear it.

Then we hurried up to the Staffin to Uig road again so that I could see the Quiraings in the sunlight. An even more amazing sight than in the rain, I must say. The Quiraings are rock formations caused by landslides millions of years ago. One mile from where we parked is the Prison (a craggy part of the mountains), the Needle (a 120 ft. pyramid), and the Table, which is hidden under a cliff face and is 200 yards wide. People of the clans used to play Shinty here—a very rough and high-scoring ball and stick game. The table is so large that is can hold 4000 cattle, and it is said that this is where the people hid their cattle when raiders were about.

Back to Columba 1400 for dinner and to check our emails then home to our cottage to wash out the mud from our clothes. I don’t believe we will have the amazing red-gold sunset of last evening, but it will still be beautiful.

***pictures from top: Ray goes ahead to check out path to the Old Man of Storr, haunted St. John’s Chapel ruins, Kilt Rock, 2 views from the Quiraings