13C, frequent rain showers. Not too heavy.
Visit the harbour, for food, coffee and get a weather forecast. Steadily improving, Thursday will be the best day.
There is a good cross-country route to the village and I decided to find another route north back to base. Wandering off tracks does not really work here. I found myself by a remote Loch then tried to turn west in the general direction of the camp. There was no way around the deer fences though. They are so high and gates were few.
I am used to waist height fences in Wales for the sheep, but these were over 8ft and wire. No way to cross those.
Later. A group of young Germans arrived and pitched next to my tent. It seemed strange since this is quite a large site and most of it is empty. Their tents were soon up and cooking organised. Then one of the guys climbed the rocks I had chosen to offer some shelter. What made them choose my corner was the rocks, but for a different reason. One of the boys pulled on climbing shoes and chalked up. Then he was all over the rocks. Such is life for the young. The group are friendly and speak good English. They didn’t keep me awake at night.

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19C sunny white, low cloud.NW wind.
After the storm, a respite. The sun is out and wind, dropped. A chance to dry out. I did laundry this morning so all is fresh (including me).
The journey brightened up in Assynt and some spectacular views revealed themselves.

This picture was taken on kid northern shore of Loch Assynt. The plaque told an interesting story of the building, wildlife and geology.
North of Assynt, is limestone topped with quartzite. South is Lewisian gneiss topped with sandstone. Geologically, that is interesting because the gneiss is 2,000 million years old. On top is sandstone of only 480my old. That is a huge gap between, a discontinuity. Which brings me to..

It was not long after that Sulvain appeared on the left. The top just scratched into the cloudbase. There it was, set quite a distance from the road; this is a remote mountain. The walk-in is 3+ hours in any direction.
The ground between carries a huge volume of water in rivers and streams in spate, and flooding. All that from last night’s tempest.

This camp in in a rocky inlet with a small white beach. The water is clear and greenish.
The ground is strangely empty. Later, a frequent visitor told me how the storm hit campers here. Of sixteen tents pitched, only one stood the night. Most left by four in the morning leaving broken, flat patches of coloured fabric in the puddles.
I thought to myself: would mine pass this test? Probably, I would say. It’s the big family tents that fared badly. That would not be a good night, the noise from buffeting.
Also, I am nervous about the high waterline. It seems rather close to my pitch.
Wish me luck.

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