Into the Dark Glen

The walk from Kylestrome to Glendhu Bothy asks for a substantial part of the day, but I think it offers a wonderful way to experience country that most people following the North Coast 500 never reach. At around sixteen kilometres there and back, usually taking four to six hours, it is the distance rather than the climbing that requires the effort, with a reasonably level estate track leading us along the northern shore of Loch Glendhu. Wet weather can make sections boggy, so it deserves proper footwear and preparation, even if the track initially gives the impression that we could stroll along it quite comfortably for as long as we pleased.

As we follow the loch inland, the road falls behind and the surrounding hills begin to feel considerably more imposing than they did from the car. There is time to look for seals and otters in the water or an eagle above the slopes, although I would never promise an appearance from any of them. Much of the pleasure comes from being able to watch without needing to move on to the next stop, gradually working our way into a glen where the scale of the landscape becomes more apparent with every mile. It makes the appearance of a hydroelectric turbine station beside a great waterfall all the more unexpected, its severe architecture suggesting somewhere an evil genius might have chosen for a headquarters.

I find it difficult to look at that building without imagining James Bond arriving uninvited, although our own destination lies farther along the track at the bothy near the head of the loch. It is an unlocked mountain shelter where we usually stop to eat outside before heading back, giving us time to appreciate the setting as well as rest our feet. Glen Dubh means the dark or black glen, and a winter visit can make the name feel particularly appropriate, as the ridge dividing it from neighbouring Glen Coul shuts out the low sun and leaves parts of the glen in prolonged shadow.

Having the same distance to cover on the return is worth remembering while enjoying that pause, particularly if your walking companion has a different idea of a comfortable pace. One former Chinese Army officer once marched me along the loch as though we were invading it, leaving me exhausted by the finish and rather more appreciative of guests who prefer to take their time. I would allow plenty of it for this walk, because the reward lies in spending several hours beside the water and among the hills, with the bothy giving us somewhere to turn for home rather than a finishing line to race towards.