{"id":22805,"date":"2023-01-12T09:00:00","date_gmt":"2023-01-12T08:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/c01.purpledshub.com\/bbccountryfile\/?p=22805&preview=true&preview_id=22805"},"modified":"2023-01-25T15:24:06","modified_gmt":"2023-01-25T14:24:06","slug":"discover-assynt","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/c01.purpledshub.com\/bbccountryfile\/2023\/01\/12\/discover-assynt\/","title":{"rendered":"Discover Assynt"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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Sunrise over C\u00f9l M\u00f2r \u2013 a rough invitation from the land of Assynt to come and explore its maze of mountains and lochs <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n

Discover Assynt<\/h2>\n\n

Embark on a walking, fishing and wildlife-watching adventure among the mountains and lochs of this enchanted region of northern Scotland <\/p>\n\n

By Fergus Collins <\/p>\n\n

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The \u2018Wee Mad Road\u2019 threads between Maiden Loch and Achmelvich Bay \u2013 a single-track artery around the heart of Assynt <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n

It<\/strong> isn\u2019t catching my first brown trout that I\u2019ll remember best. It isn\u2019t the otherworldly cragscapes. It isn\u2019t the birdsong or the convivial evenings in the local harbour bar. It is a single distant view across a serene loch. <\/strong><\/p>\n\n

I was sitting in a rowing boat far out in the water when I spotted snake-like heads above bejewelled necks: three majestic divers patrolling like ships of war. Something about their primordial poise, their utter sense of belonging set against the rugged, distant loch shore is fixed in my memory. <\/p>\n\n

They were black-throated divers, birds I had never seen before. In a landscape I have long dreamed about but that had taken me almost 50 years to get around to visiting. <\/p>\n\n

It was my friend Gavin who signed me up for adventure in Assynt. He is a fly fisherman and seeker of places far from human bustle. Much delayed by Covid, I finally made it there, arriving on a June evening. The last two hours of road, from Inverness to Lochinver, over firth, through forest, under mountain crag and, finally, along the shores of Loch Assynt, felt like a release. Settlements dwindled along the way, the peaks rose and the sweeping road became a <\/span>Top <\/em>Gear <\/em>presenter\u2019s fantasy.<\/span><\/p>\n\n

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Away from the few roads, the larger lochs are home to the handsome black-throated (barcode-throated!) diver <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n

Assynt and Coigach is a rugged region of Sutherland just north of Ullapool. It harbours hundreds of lochs, legendary mountains and coves of silver sand. And a tiny human population. The human story is a big one, however. Like much of Scotland, the land is divided among a handful of major landholders after suffering unforgiveable clearances in the 18th and 19th centuries. But fortunes were partially reversed in 1993 when the Assynt Crofters Association bought the North Assynt Estate, enabling \u201cordinary people who live and work on the land to have some control over their own economic future\u201d (see box, page 22). While crofting continues, tourism is an important source of revenue, especially from those who come to fish the lochs for brown trout. And that was our chief reason for coming there.<\/span><\/p>\n\n

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After a long walk from the Wee Mad Road, Fergus casts out on Loch a\u2019 Bhraighe, a many-armed body of water deep in the Assynt wilds. Small peninsulas offer vantage points when fly fishing <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n

I am not a good fly fisherman. It is a balletic art of rhythm and timing and release. A good proponent, such as Gavin, can cast so the line and fly kiss the water\u2019s surface, tempting the shy fish. But I was drawn by the prospect of taking a boat on to a remote loch and exploring at diver-eye level. In Assynt, you buy a fishing pass and hire rowlocks so you can use the boats found on the shores of the larger lochs. This done, you follow the relaxed instructions: \u201cPark by the side of the road and walk for an hour or two along heathery, rushy tracks to reach the loch.\u201d These walks are thrilling, the nature hit overpowering. Grasshopper warblers reel from scrub, orchids bloom in their thousands among countless unfamiliar wildflowers. A merlin might shriek from a crag, hunting meadow pipits. And, all the time, cuckoos. I\u2019ve never heard so many. Loch Crocach was where we saw the divers. It is a huge body of water, with fjord-like bays and studded with wooded islands. With Gavin and another friend, Joel, we rowed and fished and pottered ashore for lunch. And sometimes we just drifted across the loch. Every raven sparked us into eagle-goggling mode. Assynt has several pairs of golden eagles but they are recluses. Cuckoos serenaded us the whole day from the islands. And we did catch some fish \u2013 me, not many. The wild \u2018brownies\u2019 are incredibly beautiful bars of ancient silver-gold, each with a unique spotted pattern. We took a small number home for our supper. Fried in butter, they were utterly delicious.<\/span><\/p>\n\n

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GO FISHING<\/span><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
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Fly fishing is a fascinating way to experience Assynt. The act of fishing seemed to immerse me even deeper in the landscape. I was lucky to have a friend and mentor to show me the fly-fishing ropes, provide me with some kit and take me to the best locations. Fly-fishing kit is the simplest set-up of all. You just need a rod, line (flyline and leader line) plus the fly. We largely used wet flies, which sink beneath the water rather than rest on it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

If I were heading to Assynt on my own, I would contact expert fly-fishing guide Stewart Yates; assyntflyfishing.com<\/a> <\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div><\/section>\n\n

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Contemplating Suilven, Fergus and friend Joel plot their route to the base of the mountain<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n
FREEDOM TO ROAM <\/strong><\/h5>\n\n

Like most of Scotland, the landscape is open to wander. It\u2019s a deep feeling of surprising relief to explore off-track, untrammelled by footpaths or assaulted by \u201ckeep out\u201d signs and hostile fences. One special day, under moody skies, we walked in from the small township of Stoer deep into an area of crags and heather and lochs, where water and land dance around each other. It felt mildy dangerous: Loch nan Lub, Garbh Loch M\u00f2r and Loch Poll Dhaidh, eerie, beautiful places that seldom see people. Surrounding crags occasionally part to reveal the bigger peaks \u2013 Quinag, Canisp, Suilven. But the feverish shape of the lochs and the sheer brooding presence of wilderness made me feel small. It\u2019s hard to express just how impressive our forebears must have been to eek a living out here \u2013 though there is little sign of any human activity, save for an occasional sheep.<\/span><\/p>\n\n

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Calls of cuckoos echo around the lochs of Assynt in spring, where these migrants parasitise the broods of meadow pipits. Rare in England, these handsome birds are easy to find here <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n

As the afternoon turned its thoughts towards evening, we heard the deliciously chilling \u201cwhau-oooo\u201d of the black-throated divers. It felt like a warning, a reminder to us to check map and compass and keep an eye on time and weather. <\/p>\n\n

\u201cThe feverish shape of the lochs and the brooding presence of the wilderness made me feel small\u201d <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n

DAWDLING AMONG WILDFLOWERS <\/strong><\/h5>\n\n

On that walk, we fished. But the best walk I\u2019ve taken in Assynt was without rod in hand when we set out to conquer Suilven. This mountain is actually small, just 731m (Pen y Fan in my Brecon Beacons home is 886m) but has a ferocious Sphinx-like appearance and you climb pretty much all of those 731m in one go. Even before you start, it\u2019s a twoand-a-half hour walk through Glencanisp to the foot of Suilven; an undulating stroll from the wooded sanctuary of Glencanisp Lodge, where redpolls and siskins hog the birdfeeders. Burns and shallow reedy lochs flank the path, with the great peaks of Canisp and Suilven ever-present, their heads drifting in and out of cloud. I dawdled among the wildflowers and strange calls of sandpipers and greenshanks and curlews. No doubt there were eagles watching us. <\/p>\n\n

The final climb up Suilven is a steep, rough stair. You need to use your hands. It took me about 30 minutes, but there\u2019s no respite at the top of the ascent. I arrived on a narrow ridge, a void opening up to reveal a breathstealing vista south of lochs, peninsulas, islands and distant mountains, including the sawn-off silhouette of Stach Pollaidh. I swooned with vertigo that was only partly assuaged by the arrival of two ring ouzels, calling loudly around my head.<\/span><\/p>\n\n

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The long walk to Suilven from Lochinver follows a well-worn track, at first through Glen Canisp. Here, the peak of Canisp (847m) dominates the view ahead. Watch for golden eagles and, in spring, nesting waders <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n
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An outcrop offers a place to pause on the vertical climb up Suilven. If, like Fergus, you\u2019re lucky to be there on a clear day, the rugged character of Assynt is laid bare. However, it\u2019s still another 30 minutes\u2019 climb to the summit of this 731m peak <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n

\u201cForced from the land, people faced either starvation or virtual slave labour for landowners\u201d <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n

Suilven\u2019s peak requires a further clamber and negotiation of tight ledge. I struggled. It was a long way down. But the peak itself is a cricket pitch-sized plateau and the place to lunch, gawp and try not to think about the climb down. There is a curious drystone wall, built here some 160 years ago and still standing proudly. Called the \u2018famine wall\u2019 or \u2018destitution wall\u2019, it is a bleak reminder of the Clearances. After being forced from the lands, people faced either starvation or virtual slave labour for landowners in return for food, often working on projects with no purpose, such as this bizarre, mountain-top, wall-to-nowhere. It does, at least, offer climbers a respite from the elements. <\/p>\n\n

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COMMUNITY OWNED<\/span><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
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Much of the landscape that I\u2019ve described in this article is part of the 8,500-hectare North Assynt Estate, which was bought in 1993 by the Assynt Crofters\u2019 Trust. Previously, it has been in the long-time ownership of the Vestey family, before it was sold to a Swedish property company in 1989. The company went into liquidation and the future of the land became a major worry for the local crofters. They banded together and fought a highly effective campaign to raise money to buy the land \u2013 for \u00a3300,000 \u2013 within six months. The land is now managed by a committee directly for the benefit of the local community and includes farming, tourism, fishing and a hydro-power plant, which was installed in 2000. The Assynt Crofters\u2019 Trust\u2019s actions have been a model for other community buy-outs in Scotland and beyond.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

theassyntcrofters.co.uk<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div><\/section>\n\n

OUT OF THE WILD, INTO THE WARM <\/strong><\/h5>\n\n

Climb down we did \u2013 as the weather began to close in. The eight-mile walk back to Lochinver was quite the reward. It\u2019s safe to say our conversation was less sparkling \u2013 and my wildlife spotted less acute. But the sense of achievement was worth the pain. <\/p>\n\n

The weather does close in often in Assynt. Even on a mid-June day. We spent a day walking up the excitable River Kirkaig to reach the beautiful Fionn Loch; the Falls of Kirkaig along the way are among the most spectacular in Scotland. It began raining, swelling the falls further. And when you spend five hours in the rain, there are no boots or waterproofs that can keep it out. There comes a point where you simply can\u2019t get any wetter and we ploughed on. But even on a spring or summer\u2019s day, wet and wind can spell problems. We scuttled back to Lochinver, glad of the birches, hazels and oaks that offered blissful respite further down the glen. <\/p>\n\n

Sometimes it feels as if the rain and wind exist purely to exalt that moment when you step inside a bar or caf\u00e9 at the end of the day. <\/p>\n\n