After leaving the north coast of Isle of Skye, we headed southeast to hike up to The Storr. Despite visiting in the off season, the trail leading up to the ancient rock formations was incredibly crowded. So we enjoyed the view from the bottom and decided to camp in a less popular area: The Quiraing.
The rain held off for the most part as the sun graced the mountains across the sea. We climbed up from the valley floor to the foreboding rock walls of The Prison and on past The Needle, a 120 foot high pinnacle of jagged rock. This entire area is part of a landslip that has been moving for thousands of years and is still settling into place.
After scrambling out of The Prison via a windy scree field we stopped to enjoy the incredible views before turning inland. Our goal for the night was to camp at the famed Table, a massive grassy flat high above the valley floor where iron-age farmers hid livestock from invading Vikings.
A sharp left turn led us up a very steep slope. Here we paused for a brief argument about whether or not this was the right way to the Table. It was.
Unbeknownst to me, I was sheltering a very tiny stowaway in addition to carrying my 40 pound backpack. With every step up the near vertical face, I felt my knees quiver as though something might snap. I suddenly felt exhausted, out of shape and overwhelmed with emotion. A couple weeks later I found out I was pregnant, which explained everything.
We found The Table, set up camp and promptly brewed a hot cup of tea. After dinner we watched the sun set over the Trotternish Ridge. Bunnies hopped around the grassy bowl and ravens soared overhead. The wind howled all night and we woke to a frosty ground.
To be continued…