Day 8 - Mallaig to Ratigan - Or I went how far to see a pile of rocks?

So, a day of changing plans. 9:15 ferry this morning from Mallaig. We had to have our bikes out of the terrace by nine but no great rush this morning otherwise. Should have been a short distance day but with a rather steep and challenging pass.

We arrive in Armadale in Skye and granted we were only there a few hours and only saw a bit of it, there were other places I liked better. We made pretty quick work of the first 20 miles or so there. Nothing particually jumps out as being overly memorable about the route. Tea stop near Broadford which should have been just before our adventure over the mountain pass to the next tiny ferry. But then when we went to the turnoff, a sign said the ferry was closed, apparently because of high winds.

The leader types had a quick debate and decided to carry on over the Skye Bridge and go around the lochs the other way to get to Ratigan. And GC still was obsessing about seeing the brochs and was determined to find a way to fit it in. Again, we make pretty quick work of getting to the Skye Bridge and head over it. I suppose it seems like an ok enough bridge, I'm not really sure it fits so well with the surroundings. The part of it that I really liked was the part that runs into Kyle Of Lochalsh and a sea of gorse. See, there's that word again, I'm going to remember.

Five of us (J., CS, C., A. and K) set off in a pack at an apparently pretty fast pace. With the speed and precision of an Olympic cycle team, we power our way to Eilean Donan Castle, or more like we let J. go out front and fight the wind while the rest of us try hard to not get left behind. No, please don't leave me in the middle of lonely Scotland in the wind. But we must have flown pretty fast, we ended up goofing around the castle, having lunch, walking through the castle and then thought we surely must have missed seeing them coming around and on by when we started seeing the rest of the group arrive. The setting of the castle is pretty stunning. The castle itself isn't so bad. I'm not sure it was worth 4.95, maybe more like 3.75, but oh well.

A last sprint to Ratigan with the intention of dumping our baggage and heading off to see the brochs of Glenuig. At least then GC would be quiet about them after that. The hostel setting was amazing, right on a loch. But no time to enjoy that, why exactly did I agree to this? I'm really thinking that as the grade heads into the high teens, must have been approaching 20% at some points. Crazy stuff. My chain jumps off the sprocket once, probably an attempt to commit suicide so it doesn't have to suffer anymore, but I put it back and keep going. It was quite a rush to finally get to the top and look down and see where you got there from, way down in the valley. But then I'm thinking, no, I don't want to go down the other side, it is so on top here, so not a steep climb to get over it again. But I foolishly head on down despite my reservations. These better be really awesome piles of rocks.

We go through Glenelg, which is a lovely little coastal town and head back inland for a bit to find the brochs. There are two of them and even though both of them are a bit more than 50% gone, it is still an impressive sight and feat of building. I whine about riding over passes, I suppose it probably took a bit more work to pile that many stones up that high. We wander around, pose for pictures and consume whatever food anybody brought with them. At the second broch, a small boy comes up and seems desperate to give us any sort of information about them. I suppose we were better conversation that all the sheep around. But all good things must come to an end and we couldn't put off going back over that pass again anymore.

Surprisingly, it wasn't so bad. The climb was much more gradual and we all make our way back over again. CW and DT pass us at the summit just having come over the other side. They don't end up going to the brochs but just turn around after a bit and come back. Dinner is quite a feast and R. gladly contributes the jar of pesto he has been dragging around with him for most of the trip. 63.40 miles for the day.