Loch Shiel, a Winter Canoe Adventure.
With this my appetite was well and truly wetted, permission was granted by my long suffering wife Mandy.
However, the date for the paddle had changed; the last week of Jan 2012 was the chosen date........”GULP” it’s going to be cold. I have done some winter camping in the hills and mountains of Snowdonia and the Lakes but that was 17 odd years ago......will my old kit be ok?
I quickly set up a secret Facebook group for us to discuss “stuff”
Part 1, the area Loch Shiel (Location HERE)
Loch Shiel is a freshwater loch it’s length from Glenfinnan to Acharacle is approximately 26km (as the crow flies) but as we are in canoes and the loch “dog legs “it would be round about 28km of Loch paddling add some more on for exploring. Loch Shiel is situated 20 km west of Fort William in Scotland. Its nature changes considerably along its length, being a deep loch enclosed by mountains in the north east and becoming shallower surrounded by bog and rough pasture in the south west, here the 4 km River Shiel drains the loch into a sea loch, Loch Moidart.
Loch Shiel currently lie’s only just above sea level and was in fact a sea loch a few thousand years ago when sea levels (relative to Scotland) were higher. Who knows it may well become a sea loch again in the near future.
However, the date for the paddle had changed; the last week of Jan 2012 was the chosen date........”GULP” it’s going to be cold. I have done some winter camping in the hills and mountains of Snowdonia and the Lakes but that was 17 odd years ago......will my old kit be ok?
I quickly set up a secret Facebook group for us to discuss “stuff”
Part 1, the area Loch Shiel (Location HERE)
Loch Shiel is a freshwater loch it’s length from Glenfinnan to Acharacle is approximately 26km (as the crow flies) but as we are in canoes and the loch “dog legs “it would be round about 28km of Loch paddling add some more on for exploring. Loch Shiel is situated 20 km west of Fort William in Scotland. Its nature changes considerably along its length, being a deep loch enclosed by mountains in the north east and becoming shallower surrounded by bog and rough pasture in the south west, here the 4 km River Shiel drains the loch into a sea loch, Loch Moidart.
Loch Shiel currently lie’s only just above sea level and was in fact a sea loch a few thousand years ago when sea levels (relative to Scotland) were higher. Who knows it may well become a sea loch again in the near future.
Part 2, Prior Preparation Prevents ---- Poor Performance
As I have said before I had done some winter wild camping before and had at the time invested in some good quality kit, it however was old. So I sat back and I imagined different scenarios and packed, made and tested kit then thought again and re-packed until I have covered as many the bases I could.
The first test was my sleeping system, a Thermarest, a three season Vango sleeping bag with a two season Buffalo bag as a liner. The first idea was to sleep in the back garden but due to laziness I ended up in the conservatory with the outside doors open, by the morning however I had kicked my legs out of the Buffalo bag and undone the zip on the Three Season Vango Bag. There was a frost that night so I was happy about my bags. Not sure though if my trusty Thermarest was truly air tight. Another night on the floor was needed, this confirmed my suspicions. Fortunately Christmas came and Santa bought me a new self inflating mat.
Next to be tested was my trusty meths fuelled Trangia, we will mostly / hoping to cook on a on a wood burning stove and or a fire box. But we may need a back up stove; however meths stoves are not too easy to get going in the cold (I found.) Now a lot of stoves do have a pre-heater so why not a Trangia? I donned my white cow gown on and popped the burner into the freezer for a while, I then mixed together some cotton wool with petroleum jelly (aka Justin Case fire lighters) I pulled out a chunk lit it and placed the now cold burner above it, the theory being it should warm the meths up enough for it to “jet up” although it sounds dodgy... it seemed to work ok.
I made up yet another face book page “Where the hell are they” whereas friends and family can track us via text messages and grid references, this kinda worked quite well too.
The tent... Now I own two tents that should be capable of withstanding whatever weather the Scottish winter can throw at me, I had to choose one.
Choice 1/ Wild Country Trisar+ a bomb proof three pole semi geodesic 2 person back packing tent that has looked after me in many an adventure.
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| Trisar+ on a previous camp out |
or
Choice 2/ my Robens Fortress, a three person four pole full geodesic self supporting tent with a big porch.
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| Robens Fortress on another canoe camp. |
Decisions decisions, I opted for the bigger tent although it would not be as warm as the smaller I guessed we could be in for some “ahem” interesting weather and with more room to change into /out of my dry suit and other clothes and a porch area I could stow a lot of “stuff” in. Sorted!
What to wear? Being an out-doorsy kind of guy I have fleeces galore to wear under my dry suit and warm wear galore for the campsite, but my gloves were wearing a bit thin and I needed some new warm socks too, a letter to Santa sorted those out as well, Seal Skinz winter mitts and Merino wool four season socks. But a trial with the thick warm socks along with my dry suit socks inside my 5:10 Canyoneers squeezed my feet a just too much for comfort and would have restricted the circulation in my feet. As luck would have it I have some neoprene “muck” boots, I tried them on with my dry suit, and YAY! They fitted! The fit is snug against my calves too not floppy like “normal” welly boots so with this in mind I shouldn’t have too much water ingress whilst kneeling and as we would be touring and not white watering these boots should suffice. But it left me with a quandary; I was going to wear them around the camp on the evening and night-time which due to the short days may well be a fair while. Santa to the rescue again, I pooled the money I was given and bought me some North Face Chilkatt snow boots, warm and waterproof boots with grip a plenty good according to the blurb for -30.
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Our view off the car park at Fort Bill... |
Provisions bought we set off to our destination ....Loch Shiel. Upon arrival at the Glenfinnan end we gazed upon the loch in all its wild glory, however the wind was still a gusting and with a fair amount of fetch the waves were rolling in complete with white horses, today paddling was a no go. (We are in Scotland in January what did we expect?) this was a mantra I repeated to myself over and over again in the following days.
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| The view up Loch Shiel from Glenfinnan |
Stu piped up “I know a wild camping spot just up the road” we “U” turned and headed back from whence we came for a mile or two to a small car park/picnic spot next to one of the crystal clear rivers that feeds Loch Sheil.
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| Campsite 1 |
We pitched our tents in some trees, here the ground was boggy, fortunately for me I had bought my snow pegs and they worked a treat as normal pegs were easily pulled out the sloppy ground. Nearby was a small road bridge, it was here that we set up our evening retreat, our starter was pea and ham soup followed by a scrummy beef curry, washed down with some wine, life is good. It was soon time for bed as the clock was saying eight:-0 it had been a long day after all. A quick gulp of Woods rum each whilst staring at the stars this was enough to send us to our tents to find the land of nod.......
During the night the wind howled and the rain fell horizontal most of the time(We are in Scotland in January what did we expect)
In the night the sound of the river had altered, not a lot but enough for me to investigate, ok I popped my head out from under the flysheet, it had risen by about a foot, hmmm thinks I, I’d better keep an eye out and so I did I dozed and peeped, dozed and peeped until dawn. I think I dozed a lot more than I peeped because by morning the river had dropped back down to the level it was when we arrived.
The following morning the water was but a few inches away from touching the pegs of my guy ropes
After breakfast and after we had broke and tidied up our camp we also tidied up after others who had left a couple of bin bags worth of rubbish, why do they do that?
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| The Feast that broke the fast |
Time again to check out the loch, it was all systems go! YES!
We unloaded the boats and gear by yet another crystal clear river, lowered them down a twenty foot muddy bank and tied them up, Dave and Stu set off for an epic car ferry, whilst Andy and I chatted and then paddled our boats in the flow then chatted some more, hid from the rain, the chatted.
Now about one hundred meters upstream was a small piece of white water. I thought that I would kick myself if I didn’t go and have a look, so I paddled and polled up to it when I heard Andy holler “they are here!” it was 1500hrs
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| The Put in |
We put our boats into the water and reached the bridge to what looked like eight inch standing waves, no wait these were not standing waves but waves, proper waves, waves that came from the loch!
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| Paddling towards Loch Shiel |
Oh dear the wind must have picked up again and picked up it had once out in the loch the waves were about two foot tall, the boats were coming off the tops of the waves and slapping down into the troughs only to be lifted out of the water again. If only I could have got the camera out and timed it perfectly the picture would have been exceptional, but as I was battling with the wind that was a no go. We passed a boat that had not fared as well in these conditions as all was showing above the water was the bow, or was it the stern, who knows??
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| A stricken boat |
Heads down we pushed on until we all reached some shelter afforded by an outcrop of rock, the planned campsite was out of the question it was too far to paddle in these conditions (We are in Scotland in January what did we expect) with the light now starting to fade we needed a campsite and we needed it soon, Dave and I scouted the next cove and to our delight we found a great campsite, a sheltered one at that.
Dave went back to get Andy and Stu whilst I started to put up the tarp,
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| Dave |
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| boats beached |
again the land was boggy and again the snow pegs came into their own.
With the boats upside down and tethered to a tree we pitched our tents.
We spent the evening hunkered in the shelter of the tarp while Dave rustled up chicken fajitas cooked over a fire box which was raised off the ground, the wood indecently did its best not to burn, but we persevered and in the end by chopping through the wood exposing the dryer bits and also using cotton wool and Vaseline we got it going. We were determined to cook on an open fire!
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| The stove |
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| Under the Tarp |
For pudding we demolished the Whisky Cake which due to us being in Scotland was doused in Whisky Sauce, again being in Scotland the whisky sauce was just plain old malt whisky, yum de yum yum!
That night the hail came down in a wild maelstrom of white hard pebbles drumming on the roof of my tent, I peeped out and saw the tarp material had sagged with the damp and the hail had started to “pool” up, a hurried tarp rescue operation was instigated and within minutes I had it sorted before I snuggled back into my sleeping bag(s).
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| Hail during the night |
At this stage of the adventure time was immaterial, it was light (just) so we broke camp and it was decided to put some paddling time in before breakfast before the wind picked up.
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| The view of the Loch |
Again the weather was clear enough for a fantastic vista of snow covered mountains, the kind of mountains you drew as a child, the sides of the mountains dropped dramatically into the loch....WOW! Whilst soaking up the views (and the rain) on a hill side a deer was spotted along with another, WOW again. Stu pointed out a campsite (for another time mabe), a small bay with a flat beach area and a few trees, the bay had a small island in it, ok it was a rock that jutted out of the water but it was great just to paddle around.
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| Another view |
Within what was an hour or two (as I said time was immaterial) we pulled up on a fantastic beach again the views were stunning, the Trangia stove was lit and porridge of the microwavable variety was in order. It was here that we had an epiphany, Jelly babies are the food of the canoe gods (cue light streaming down from the heavens like a Monty Python sketch complete with an animated trumpet fanfare), eat them raw and they give you a bit of a sugar boost, drop one into hot water for a fruity warming drink and add them to porridge for some sweetness.
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| Breakfast beach |
Rejuvenated and enlightened we paddled on wards into the wind. Dinner time today was nonexistent none of us were hungry, maybe we were fed by the views who knows? We paddled and rested padded and rested until it was time for us to look for a campsite, one was found on the map, a flat piece of land with a small stream flowing through it.
We were tired as we pulled up to the beach, after scouting the immediate area it was deemed far too wet because the stream did not drain directly into the loch but as soon as it hit the flat land it dispersed and water logged the whole area. We moved further round to where the land was not so water logged, it was still wet mind, I pushed my fingers into the earth and a puddle formed....interesting.
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| Moist ground |
The tarp was set up and soon after the tents were erected, it was here my fears of a porous groundsheet was realized, this was easily overcome by various plastic sacks and a bivi bag, I was unimpressed!
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| The second camp on Shiel |
Disaster strikes one of our team.
Dave went for a wander to phone to His wife Gill, he was away for a while when we heard groaning and various other strange noises, thinking it was a Dave and Gill thing we left them to it but as it went on we had to investigate it. We found Dave writhing in agony; he had slipped on the dodgy ground and dislocated his knee cap, an old injury of his. We supported him and administered first aid before telling him why we took so long to get to him, bless him he saw the funny side.
Tea that night was various cup a soups followed by Chorizo sausage in noodles with a chilli sauce again cooked by Dave the limping campfire chef.
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| Chorizo |
I had previously prepared a bannock mixture at home and was dying to use it, so bannock for pudding it was, but being as we were in an extravagant mood I added some fruit and from the alcohol stash came a bottle of woods rum with an alcohol level at 57% and me with quite a few cuts on my fingers made the mixing a painful experience, but boy it was worth it. I have to add we had custard with the bannock of which we ended up with surplus, out came the jelly babies and a new pudding was invented.
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| Making Rum bannock |
I had been monitoring the temperature with a cheap thermometer but I don’t think it was any good we resorted to seeing how thick the olive oil came out of the bottle to determine the temperature, the olive oil when used that day came out with the consistency of margarine.
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| Olive oil temperature gauge |
Full and tired one by one we made our way to our tents.
It was dark when we started to break camp and was eating breakfast at 0800, during the night the wind had dropped and by “morning” it had turned 180 degrees, time to sail up...
Andy’s boat was newly rigged up for sailing especially for this trip and although he had sailing experience he had never sailed a canoe before and we couldn’t risk a dunking dry suited up or not, so with this in mind I rafted up with Andy, Stu sailed his boat and Dave wanted to try his small downwind sail. It was my first time sailing too but as the boats were tied together as a catamaran they were as stable as well....... two canoes tied together.
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| Two canoes lashed together |
I enjoyed the sailing however whilst we were not paddling we were not generating any heat and started to chill down a bit, my “waterproof mitts” were found not to be waterproof although wet they retained the warmth protecting them from the wind chill.
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| The "not so" waterproof mitts |
Now there is a light hearted debate going on in the open canoe world about which is the fastest colour for a canoe, with this in mind.....
Stu says to Dave “Why are you in front? I’ve got a big sail on my (red) boat and you’ve got a small sail on your (green) boat!”
Enough said on that matter.
We pulled in to Eilean Fhianain commonly known as burial island
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| The gang on burial island |
“The Chapel, c.1500 Believed to have been built to replace a wooden structure by Allan MacRuari, 4th Chief of Clanranald, "the dread and terror of all neighbouring clans". Abandoned 17th century, since when all dressings have been robbed. The rubble walls still enclose a stone altar slab, with a seamless bronze bell of Early Christian type (possibly 10th century), a small cross in a niche, plus various important graveslabs, including one much weathered example of the Iona School, c. late 15th century, depicting a sword and foliage scrolls. Among the many monuments scattering Eilean Fhianain in the shelter of hawthorn, larch and Scots pine are several late medieval graveslabs and a group of weathered cruciform stones, probably 18th century.”
We snacked on chocolates and sweets to keep our energy levels up, a quick look around the island but as the wind was cutting through everything chilling us down (We are in Scotland in January what did we expect) we didn’t stay too long, back into the boats for the final stretch.
After about half an hour or so the wind dropped, more so than that there was not even a breath of wind, the loch now turned into a mill pond.
By now it was obvious that Dave was struggling due to his injury, it wasn't wise to progress into moving water, the Loch Shiel adventure ended today. Plan B was beginning to be implemented but first we needed a break before the car shuttle. We moored our boats up at the slipway and made our way to the pub.....which was closed. A cafe come bakers was open so four soggy dry suited unshaven paddlers filled the small shop requesting coffees, outside of the shop was some benches and tables where plans were made. The owner of the shop offered free top ups to our coffees, what a guy.
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