After a rest day (day 7) which consisted of cycling up a hill and to Fairy Glen then chilling out in the Uig sun we headed off toward Sligachan via the Quairaing in the worst weather of the trip so far. Switch backing out of Uig we were atop a moor with the rain being pelted at us sideways. We passed a couple of backpackers with massive ponchos covering their backpacks huddling together. They looked up, their miserable faces said it all. Except we were in high spirits, Andy was singing along and the weather was improving the higher we got.
The Quairaing is a massive stretch of cliff, a mile inland from the sea cliffs. It’s face is broken, jagged rock that looks lunar or out of this world. We rolled in to the top of it where the road switchbacks and drops steeply. Scree ridden the road looked wet, though our touring tyres could handle it, I’d be scared on a road bike. We stopped briefly to admire the view but the wind was cold and the threat of rain was looming. We descended, almost catching up to a car, oblivious we were behind him.
Reaching Staffin we headed south with the wind on our backs. It really is unbelievable that the wind has helped us so much this tour.
We made a stop at Kilt rock, having been there a couple of years previous we didn’t hang about and headed on the undulating hilly route toward the Old Man of Storr which is a rocky outcrop/ pinnacle hanging precariously from the edge of a cliff. We were tired from the long drags of hills and stuffed some dark chocolate down our throats. This perked us up and the downhill into Portree was good fun.
We ate a massive bowl of soup and cake, our feet still sodden from the morning’s rain. This had the job of feeding and warming us up. We joined the road to Sligachan which is the main road through Skye and immediately were reminded of how quiet the roads had been through the isles. The cars speeding passed, some only cutting in, in the nick of time before careering into an oncoming car. Some were kind and gave plenty of space, others were not, at least the road surface was good and it wasn’t raining.
The drop into Sligachan is fantastic, a long decline with the backdrop of the Cullins. We arrived at the Sligachan Hotel for 3pm, unpacked and took a walk across the old bridge, found a seating area cut into the heather and sat and stared at the view. It was good to be chilling after a hilly 55kms.