Scotland 8 - North Skye

We started early this morning, scoffing down breakfast and prepping some sandwiches, prepping to take a run at the northern-Skye loop. We know we're not going to be able to do all of it today, but we figured we'd do what we could, and try to fill in what we missed tomorrow.  This traveling with babies thing is a different kettle of fish... Technically, the baby is pretty good. Bubs (we call him bubs for some reason) can and will sleep anywhere. Car, backpack, restaurant, all good. The two toddlers are more finicky. We used to run hard to hit as much as we could - more recently in VN I did more than I could, so it's a nice change of pace.

First  stop was the Fairie Glen. We actually missed our turn because we were distracted by a cute circular castle, but a quick schwit had us up a few one-way roads and into the Fairie Glen.  What is a Fairie Glen? It's.... Some lumpy land that has been terraced by sheep, with a few spirals drawn/dug into it?  But also some rocks to climb, and everywhere here is super scenic, so it's hard to be upset with a tourist trap. As a bonus, we got to watch a sheepdog herd his flock a few pastures over, it was a good stop.  

Leaving the Fairie Glen, our car left early to get out of the way as some noobs were creating a tailback in traffic trying to park. Which gave us time to go to the distracting castle!  Nobody else in our car felt any need, so I jogged down - past the "Please Do Not Pass Gate" and the "DANGER, KEEP OUT" signs - right into the tower itself! It was a total let-down. Just a busted-down door into a hollow cylinder of an old fortification with a handful of birds roosting in it. But I'm still glad I did it, because I would have wondered forever, like that one tower in England I didn't climb 25 years ago.

From there we set off across the top of the island. One lane roads through cow-pastures, with cliffs, the sea, and the Hebrides off in the distance. We even saw our first Highland Coos (long-haired cows that have become the unofficial mascot of Scotland, featured in every gift shop and seated on a significant percentage of dashboards). And, since I was navigator, I could even snap some pictures! But I missed the coos. 

The next stop was Duntulm Castle - a completely ruined MacDonald castle set on a peak over the ocean.  I sorta gave away the surprise there, it was completely ruined - abandoned in the late 1600s and immediately looted for stones to build the new fortifications. Only a few walls standing, but great views of windswept cliffs and the Scottish sea. You know me by now, I'm into this sh...sttuff. Ancient ruins thrust over harsh shingle and dark seas... Ugh. Gimme a minute.. aight.  At one point I heard "Brice, I need you" and "Don't tell your brother" simultaneously, and it goes without saying that the summoning won over the admonishment. As requested, I slithered into the rocks to discover a small hunched passage, which ended a few yards later in a cramped room, enough for storage or a secret hideout, where a missing cobblestone  offered light, glimpses of the sea, and ventilation, holding the breeze to only a hint of hobo-pee.

Outside the castle (and amidst the sheep-droppings), we had our sandwiches while we waited for the second-shift to pass through the castle (Babies means things happen early and often in shifts).  Finishing up lunch, my youngest niece decided it was naptime, so that half the kin was gonna bail for the BNB. My mom and I abandoned their car for the other, and the rest of us all continued on to "Kilt Rock and [Mealt - wasn't even close] Falls" - It was another let-down. The falls themselves are pretty impressive, but you're peering over a railing on the edge of a carpark to see some mid falls disappear over the edge toward the ocean.  The falls themselves seemed pretty cool, but the view and setting (a muddy lot) didn't show them off properly - they need a drone.  Well up the shore we could see (mostly through binoculars) some climbers struggling up massive basaltic pillars rising out of the sea - It looked fun, but it also looked chilly - and cold could suck most the fun out of it. 

As we left the lackluster-falls, my mom realized she had the housekeys. Our only set of housekeys which my brother needed for naptime. After a lot of frantic texting, it was decided that my parents would meet up with them to pass off keys, and leave A/D/S/O and I to hike a trail they were interested in. We gave my dad a rundown on the nuances of Scottish driving (press this button to park, shoulder-marking should be just inside the wiper-nub, side mirrors help) and sent them off into the lands unknown: Western Skye. (He was totally fine). 

Now abandoned, it was time for Oliver to eat, so A/D/O nestled down in a cemetary at the top of our chosen trail, while Sage and I set off ahead.  This was secretly a ploy to tire Sage by  having her walk, but it ended up being a delightful time. We talked (mostly about sheep and sheep poos), Sage did such good walking, and I only had to carry her past a few treacherously-muddy sections.  By the time her parents caught up we were all impressed that she'd made it over a half-mile on 2 y/o legs. And, of course, we all pretended to be SUPER impressed.  Sage, on the other hand, was suddenly *super* tired once Daddy was there to carry her. I've found my niche. 

Reunited, we quickly arrived at the sea (moderately cold, but not brutal. Little waves, probably because the Hebrides are there as barriers). The beach was largely rounded riverstone (sea-stone?), where here and there ragged stone slabs projected over the sea, and small patches of grey cropped up occasionally. Sage, of course, wanted to be carried. I, of course, was off bounding between boulders and stone-slabs, checking tide pools, scampering across the beach. As great as this was, the trail didn't end here, and we still had time to kill while my parents ferried keys (and unbeknownst to us, went to a coo-cafe.... which is somehow a thing). So we headed off across the fields towards the star of the show, an upthrust peninsula jutting into the Minch.

The fields were flooded. Small streams flowed over and around the grasses, and none of us had any chance of remaining totally dry. Dani rolled the dice with one brave step, and her entire foot disappeared into the muck - but luckily she got it out fast enough (with a baby on her back - she's a badass) that her socks remained dry though her ankles were soaked. Typical Scotland - we're lucky this trail wasn't a stream, merely crossed by them.

Across the fields, we found a nice sketchy cliffside path, where thankfully I didn't have to carry a child. Apparently when you hike with children all the time it wasn't a big deal, but I didn't want a squirming backpack on a cliff. This trail gave us an amazing view of the falls from earlier. They're distant off our left, but I totally get the hype now - and immediately to the right, more amazing views of more incredible cliffs. Once we'd landed on this wind-swept bluff, Dani decided she wasn't game for the final leg. Adam nd I kicked some sheep-poo out of the way and set her up in a nice little wind shadow with the babes, and set off to speed-run the final leg.  It started out with a nice narrow edge, and then we had the final spire to climb. I attempted to send a likely-looking (but unbroken) route, doing some moderate climbing on sketchy terrain. When a handhold pulled out on me near the top... I gently tapped it back in place and down-climbed, taking the trail more traveled to join Adam at the top. It was cool. Great views, strong wind, sketchy points... but really, destination as an excuse for the journey. <Find a reference for this in my own blog, or directly reference sanderson>.  Time to return (and goaded by my first failed route), I chose an alternate route down, heading down the back and traversing a sketchy corner with a few hand-jams. It wasn't that technical, but it was pretty consequential, which always focuses the mind nicely.

Almost the same pic, but so great I'll double down.

Then there was nothing left but to double back. Across the narrow neck, load up the chillens, reverse the cliff edge, try (and fail) to find a dry path back across the marsh, ower the stony beach, and grind back up the hill. But we found a nice surprise when Pops was waiting for us halfway up the hill! He told us all about the Coos, and Sage told him all about sheep poop. I've probably said the word poopoo more today than in the last 20 years of my life combined.

On the way home, we swung by the coop to pick up supplies, which was a great excuse to get a bottle of the local gin. Distilled in the Hebrides from Sea-Kelp, it's.... quite good. Not worth the price necessarily, but kelp! Hebrides! Expansive and well-oiled blog entries!  We went around the table, showing our favorite pictures of the day, and recounting our favorite part. Sage went with sheep poopoos.

[I'm gonna leave my last note-to-editor-Brice as-written:]
<running Ada up and down stairs?  chilling as a family in the living room? dance parties? passing around baby duty? Add in how nice it is to exist as a family here/other posts>

[PS: my dad sent me this pic two months later, and it was too badass not to add: ]