No history book will ever be sole custodian to Scotland’s past. For those who take time to seek out hidden places, our land has its own stories to tell. The question is how best to get off-road and explore it?
Brora based company Highlands Unbridled offers long-distance horse treks, the longest in the UK, in fact. So, intrepid travellers who have a basic riding ability and are comfortable around horses can immerse themselves in the wilds, using one of the oldest modes of transport known to man.
I join them by Loch Torridon from where we are going to cross Scotland, using a network of ancient drove roads and pony tracks. These were the major highways of centuries past, so we will be following the trails of our ancestors.
Company owners Jan and Graham O’Neil take care of all the logistics. Routes are thoroughly checked by bicycle or on foot, hotel bookings are secured along with suitable grazing for the horses and luggage is magically transferred from one staging post to the next.
Next morning as we tack up and set out, my worries about being able to stay the course evaporate along with the morning mist.
The imposing, rugged peaks of the Torridonian Mountains remind me that human existence is a mere blink of the eye when set in context of geological time scales. A brisk south westerly blows up from the loch and sunlight glances off high patches of quartz encrusted rock.
We rise up into a trot and the horses shuffle into preordained order like a magician’s pack of cards. Jan’s Arab/Highland cross takes the lead and my mount, Annie, is next. Annie is already displaying athletic tendencies. She doesn’t do sedate. Even at a walk her gait is powerful and jaunty. I am so happy she is to be my companion for the days ahead.
After a few hours we are able to leave the road and head into the Coulin Estate where we come upon the first of many remnants of the great Caledonian forests. Silver birch and Scots Pine blend perfectly into the landscape creating an impression of forlorn dignity.
After all, this is how our entire countryside would look had it not been for generations of plundering and overgrazing.
After a pleasant afternoon the horses spot Graham waiting by a gate, serenely puffing on his pipe. This means our day’s riding has come to an end. The horses associate Graham with food and rest and we come to rely on him as a constant source of support and gentle good humour. When the horses are untacked, fed and wrapped up in protective rugs we set them free and head off for a pleasant evening in the Strathcarron Hotel.
The following day, swollen rain clouds somewhat swallow up my confidence and I wonder how my aching muscles will endure a demanding eight-hour ride. And there is no sunshine to soften the treeless terrain of Strathconon. It is boggy and boulder strewn. Networks of rivers emerge from the hillside like a series of glimmering snakes. A slideshow of dark shadows and vivid greens is projected onto the hills and the rain drizzles down upon us relentlessly. Yet, the horses bravely wade through deep water and negotiate sodden peat in uncomplaining compliance.
Throughout the trip Jan buoys our spirits. No question is too trivial, nothing is too much trouble. She is patience personified. But then, she is living her life exactly the way she wants to in a way few people do. She says: “You don’t make much money working with horses like this but we get to be with these fantastic animals and to see hidden parts of Scotland in the company of interesting people.”
The days take on a pattern of long hours of activity punctuated by scenic picnics and hearty evening dinners. We soon become attuned to the sounds of nature: the musical sound the wind makes when it blows through seed pods of broom, the white noise of waterfalls, the welcoming whinnying of working horses in remote locations and the screech of buzzards on the hunt all become familiar. And the scents of wild plants and damp pine needles provide natural aromatherapy.
We follow trails which take us through impossibly remote farmsteads where people still live and work and we see abandoned dwellings with empty hearths and bare window frames. Stone-built stock pens appear at intervals along our route reminding us of the marauding life of itinerant drovers who would think nothing of thieving animals they came across on the high road to markets in Dingwall and Muir of Ord.
Contin marks a mid- point from which we head high above Loch Garve along forest tracks and open moorland which lead into Alladale Estate where owner Paul Lister is trying to obtain a zoo licence so he can repopulate his land with animals which have long been absent from Scotland’s wild places. This place has magnificent ancient trees interspersed with miles of electric fence which have been erected to contain wild boar and elk. We see only the boar and that makes the horses edgy enough.
Soon it is day seven and we are on the home straight riding through Skibo Estate on our way to Dornoch. We see the remnants of Neolithic hut circles and a distant ruin which could be a broch. Our trip ends with a spirited gallop along a sandy beach. It is a suitably climatic finish to what has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.
I feel healthy, relaxed and elated to have completed such a demanding journey. And Annie has been my loyal companion throughout an adventure which was not without its challenges. But, like the rainbow we saw set against a stormy dark sky somewhere in the outback of Ross-shire, physical exhaustion and occasional hours of cold and wet served only to throw the many bright moments into sharp relief.