Hills by Boat

© Dan Bailey

Why don't more people approach their hill walks by canoe or kayak? Dan Bailey dips a toe in the water to examine pros and pros of paddling to peaks.


Blowing horizontally into your face or squelching peatily underfoot, water is the dominant element in the soggy hills of this proud island nation. It's surprising how little positive use walkers generally make of something that's so all-pervasive. It's unavoidable, so why not turn it to your advantage? I'm thinking lochs, lakes and even the sea here. And boats – not just for messing about in, but as a practical means of transport to the hills.

Sgurr na Lapaich from a chilly Loch Mullardoch  © Dan Bailey
Sgurr na Lapaich from a chilly Loch Mullardoch
© Dan Bailey
...and up on the hills next day  © Dan Bailey
...and up on the hills next day
© Dan Bailey

Wherever lochs stretch far into remote hill country the amphibious assault can be employed to great effect to give a trip that's half aquatic and half pedestrian – ideally with an added wild camp in most cases. Unless you're a genuine masochist then paddling is always going to be a lot more enjoyable than plodding along low level bulldozed tracks, and because the water takes the strain and boats generally have a generous cargo stowage allowance you can enjoy luxury camps with no backbreaking loads. For its back-to-nature feel and the satisfaction of being self reliant somewhere potentially serious the nautical option easily trumps cycling in too. Whether you're skimming through mirror-flat calm or battling a headwind there's real seafaring romance to be found in a small boat on a big empty expanse of water, with only the waves and wildlife to break the silence. The wet bit of the journey is likely to count for as much as the summit goal at the end of it - and why else would you go to the hills but to have a bit of an adventure?

'The wet bit of the journey counts for as much as the summit goal at the end of it'

In UK terms Scotland is the prime location, by far mostest and the moistest. Natural lochs like Maree, Shiel and Morar give some stunning options for combined paddle/walking trips, but the man-made variety can be just as good in this regard. Glens all over the Highlands have been dammed and flooded, leaving dozens of much-enlarged freshwater lochs in out-of-the-way spots - a great resource for hydro power but arguably one that's under-used by hillwalkers bound for the tops. Head over to the complex land-sea-island jigsaw of the west coast and things get more exciting still, with some of the best sea kayaking in the world and rugged mountains rising straight from the beach.

Gliding over a mirror-calm Loch Ericht  © Dan Bailey
Gliding over a mirror-calm Loch Ericht
© Dan Bailey

Personally I can't think of anything better than a weekend spent in both boots and boats. If there is a downside, and I've been struggling to think of one, it's having to amass a whole new mountain of specialised kit and the skills to go with it all. My gear storage requirements practically doubled when I started dabbling in the water, and it's got so bad that I've been banished to the garden. But then for some the gear is half the attraction; I have to admit I'm as tragically attached to my Lendal Kinetik Touring paddle (with the modified crank carbon shaft ...mmm, sexy) as any of my axes. The beard and the beer belly are probably just around the corner.

This is a deep topic, and the following only skims the surface. To learn more some further reading, enrolling on a course and/or joining a club are all highly recommended.

Sheltering in an inlet  © Dan Bailey
Sheltering in an inlet
© Dan Bailey

Loading up  © Dan Bailey
Loading up
© Dan Bailey

Canoe or kayak?

If you're buying just one boat with hill approaches in mind then think what else you might use it for; anything will do on an inland loch so the choice boils down to something that's good for rivers but relatively crap at sea, or vice versa. So what's the difference between a canoe and a kayak? Don't get them confused as it upsets serious enthusiasts of one or the other type of boat and makes you look like an amateur. For those who don't know, a canoe (sometimes called Canadian canoe) is an open boat steered with a short single-bladed paddle. A kayak in contrast is an enclosed craft with a cockpit (sealed by a spray deck), steered with a long-shafted double-bladed paddle. For our purposes, namely open water crossings, we're looking at general purpose touring kayaks or rather more refined (and seaworthy) sea kayaks - forget river or surf boats, which aren't built to carry gear or go in a straight line.

Creag Dhubh from Loch Ericht  © Dan Bailey
Creag Dhubh from Loch Ericht
© Dan Bailey

Canoes and sea kayaks handle very differently, each requiring a distinct set of skills. Within either family are many sub-types and specialised individuals, with even minor tweaks in a boat's length, width and hull shape giving notably different characteristics on the water (not to mention how heavily it's loaded, whether it's a tandem or single-person model, what it's made of, the shape of its pointy ends etc).

'Your ideal boat is as personal and nuanced a choice as selecting boots, crampons and ice axes'

Generalising a bit, canoes are ideal for inland open water (eg. approaching a hill walk) and for running rivers – even pretty wild ones if you know your stuff. You can take a canoe to sea – many do – but it may feel slightly out of its element when things get wavy or windy. A canoe will generally be broader and deeper than a kayak and is built for comfort rather than speed (no reflection on their handlers, honest). They'll offer more storage space than a kayak, though much room in bow and stern will be taken up with inflatable bags for buoyancy (handy if you capsize).

Canoe vs kayak  © Dan Bailey
Canoe vs kayak
© Dan Bailey

Sea kayaks are sleeker, faster and more responsive to every little twitch of the hips - some would call them tippy. Sitting much lower in the water they catch less wind (slowing, destabilising) than canoes, and the lower centre of gravity and general cut of the craft makes them better able to handle the sea in all its moods. But they're 16-foot-plus and designed to travel in a straight line, so just try taking one down an even moderately technical river. Watertight bulkheads provide excellent buoyancy, while gear is stored in compartments front and rear accessed via hatches. Loading a kayak is more of a fiddle since big bags won't fit in the hatches and items often have to be stowed one at a time; invariably halfway through the day you'll find something small but vital has been neatly tucked out of reach in the bow.

For either canoeing or kayaking your ideal boat is as personal and nuanced a choice as selecting boots, crampons and ice axes. And I've barely even mentioned paddles, which also come in a bewildering myriad of shapes and sizes... The best advice is probably to hire or borrow the gear for your first few trips, and then try a bit of everything before you buy.

Safety kit

Falling off cliffs excepted, when things go wrong for hillwalkers events often seem to snowball over a length of time. Water is in a sense less forgiving since humans aren't built to survive it; once immersed it doesn't take at all long to drown, and if you avoid that then hypothermia might not be far behind. When paddling in isolated areas you've got to be able to look after yourself first and foremost since by the time outside help arrives it may be too late. Invest in all the proper gear; it's really not optional. Types of boat and paddle may vary but there's plenty of essential safety kit common to both canoeing and kayaking on remote open water: buoyancy aid; flares; whistle; waterproof torch; complete change of spare warm clothing in dry bags; group shelter or bivvy bag; spare paddle; mobile phone or radio in waterproof case; map and compass; tow line. A hand pump can be a good idea for kayakers too. As ever, as vital as the safety kit is knowing what to do with it all. And of course your greatest safeguard is other people, so the best advice is to go in a group.

'Your greatest safeguard is other people, so go in a group'

Messing about in boats  © Dan Bailey
Messing about in boats
© Dan Bailey

Camping by the shore  © Dan Bailey
Camping by the shore
© Dan Bailey

Challenges

Sea paddling is a discipline as complex and multi-faceted as mountaineering. In the sea there's a lot to consider – tides, currents, waves and weather, shipping, navigation, killer whale attacks (I made one of those up)... Boat handling and self rescue skills need to be well practised, and the arcane complexities of tide tables and maritime charts mastered. Running rivers in a canoe is an equally big subject. Getting really good at either would be a lifetime goal, and the place to start is probably a club or course.

Non-tidal (mostly) flat water is more beginner-friendly as there are fewer factors to consider, but still it should not be taken lightly. In freshwater lochs your biggest foe is the wind. Paddling into a strong headwind is knackering, and sometimes it can seem as if you're running flat out just to stand still – worse in a canoe than a kayak. Hilly terrain can channel the airflow in strange ways, creating gusty downdraughts for instance. On flat water turbulence can often be seen coming as dark choppy patches spreading across the surface; if unprepared a powerful gust could easily knock you off balance. Wind also means waves; the stronger the wind and the greater the expanse of water it has crossed, the bigger these will be. If a big wind is blowing the length of a major loch the resultant waves may be pretty daunting. For much of the year freshwater mountain lochs will be utterly freezing, so though you're generally unlikely to take a spill the consequences of doing so could be serious. What happens if you're at the 'wrong' end of a remote loch when the wind turns and the water gets wild? Do you risk it, or sit it out? If the latter, have you brought enough food and fuel for what could be a long wait? It's all worth thinking about.

Looking for a place to camp  © Dan Bailey
Looking for a place to camp
© Dan Bailey

Books and other info

Wales-based Pesda Press do an excellent range of UK-wide route guides and instructional books for both sea kayaking and canoeing. See these for starters:

Scottish Canoe Touring, Eddie Palmer (Ed.) covers nearly 130 itineraries from short day trips to trans-Scotland expeditions, in locations all across the country – inland lochs, moderate rivers, sea lochs and open sea routes at the safer end of the scale. The types of trip are easily distinguished with symbols, and basic details are provided for each route along with notes on access points and portages (places where boats need to be carried). Many of these routes can be followed exactly or slightly adapted by walkers accessing the hills.

Scottish Sea Kayaking by Glenmore Lodge instructors Doug Cooper and George Reid covers 50 great sea kayaking adventures all around the Mainland and Western Isles, from relatively straightforward one-day trips to major multi-day journeys only for expert teams in good conditions. Each route chapter gives the essential detail on tidal times and tidal streams, distances and times, contact details for the nearest coastguard station and the like. Only a few of these routes are directly relevant to amphibious hill approaches (Rum, the Skye Cuillin) but the many great images of cliffs, stacks, beaches and wildlife should inspire anyone to get deeper into sea kayaking for its own sake.

Scottish Canoe Classics by open boat aficionado Eddie Palmer does for inland water what the above title manages for sea kayaking – it's a route guide that tells you pretty much everything you need to know for planning a trip, but just as importantly it provides plenty of reasons why you should want to go in the first place. It's a bit like a coffee table version of Scottish Canoe Touring, giving much more detail than the other book on a much smaller selection of routes, the author's 25 favourites. These range from inland lochs and sea lochs to easy rivers (grade 2 max). As with the other guides there are both one-day and multi-day trips, and again a number of these can be modified to accommodate a hill walk en route. With loads of attractive photos, Scotland's waterways have never looked so inviting.

Sea Kayak by leading expert Gordon Brown (no not that one). This is a comprehensive instruction manual for intermediate and advanced kayakers looking in-depth at boat types, equipment, paddle and rescue skills, training, navigation, weather, sea conditions, surfing, expeditions – master this lot and you'd be well on the way to expert status. Photos detail kit and techniques, and provide plenty of ideas.

Discover Canoeing by the aptly named expert coach James Weir is a complete introduction to the sport of open boating – gear, boats, paddle strokes, rolling (in a canoe?!), white water, expeditions – you name it.

The twin websites UKRiversGuidebook and UKSeakayakGuidebook are a sort of UKC/UKH of the paddling world, with forums, route descriptions and trip reports from all over the country.

The Song of the Paddle does something similar too, specifically for 'those who hear the siren call that draws them to the water in their open canoe'.

Carn Eige range from Loch Mullardoch  © Dan Bailey
Carn Eige range from Loch Mullardoch
© Dan Bailey

Some Sea Routes


Ladhar Bheinn from Barrisdale Bay  © Dan Bailey
Ladhar Bheinn from Barrisdale Bay
© Dan Bailey

Ladhar Bheinn along Loch Hourn

With its pointy summits and narrow ridges mainland Scotland's most westerly Munro is also one of its best. Ladhar Bheinn looms over Loch Hourn, a narrow fjord-like sliver of clear water hemmed in by steep, wooded slopes. From the road end at Kinloch Hourn this makes for one of the most idyllic approaches to any hill, whether via the loch shore path or by boat. The upper loch is sheltered from the worst weather but there's quite a tidal flow at the narrows of Caolas Mor, so time the westerly journey for a falling tide and the return for rising water.

Skye Cuillin via Loch Scavaig

Going over the sea to Skye might be the most aesthetic way to approach our most spectacular mountain range, as the Cuillin rise grandly out of the water ahead. For any mountain lover the trip across Loch Scavaig from Elgol to Coruisk has to rate among the best days it's possible to spend in a sea kayak. But the gushing superlatives don't end there. What to do when you arrive? A quick nip up the unrivalled mini mountain Sgurr na Stri? A mega day on the Dubhs Ridge? A full Traverse? Whatever, you're not going to be disappointed.

Rum from the Mainland - it's further than it looks  © Dan Bailey
Rum from the Mainland - it's further than it looks
© Dan Bailey

Rum Cuillin the hard way

The traverse of the other Cuillin is a classic hillwalking challenge, a ridge walk up there with the best in the country spiced with optional exciting scrambles. Rum is a 'wilderness' nature reserve and its remote island atmosphere adds a special something to any trip. There's a regular (ish) ferry, but I'd be willing to bet that the most memorable way to get here is under your own steam. However the long open sea crossing from Skye is a serious business for experts only; and as that doesn't best describe me personally, it's one I'm still working up to.

Beinn Mhor and Hecla, South Uist

These rugged 600m peaks are more commonly approached from the west, but a boat journey to the uninhabited east coast is a more adventurous proposition, probably best left to more accomplished sea kayakers in all but ideal conditions. In typically Hebridean fashion the mountains rise straight from an isolated rocky shoreline, giving tough walking with far-reaching sea views. There's a well placed bothy too.

A Few Fresh Water Trips


Rough Bounds from Loch Quoich  © Dan Bailey
Rough Bounds from Loch Quoich
© Dan Bailey

Knoydart's Rough Bounds across Loch Quoich

A complex tangle of rock and bog, the well named Rough Bounds demand a lot from walkers. Just reaching the foot of the hills is a challenge, with the main peaks centred on Sgurr na Ciche requiring a very long single day (or perhaps more commonly an overnight trip) from any approach. Make a weekend of it with an 8km paddle down lonely Loch Quoich and a camp in the wild country around its head. This angle of attack permits the most logical circuit of the hills from Ben Aden to Sgurr nan Coireachan. Bear in mind that strong westerly or easterly winds can build a big swell, and if things go up the creek you're a long way from help.

Carn Eige and Co. via Loch Mullardoch

The bulky twins Carn Eige and Mam Sodhail are the highest in Scotland north of the Great Glen. They're typically done from Glen Affric in the south, but a more ambitious amphibious approach down Loch Mullardoch gives access to perhaps the most logical long circuit on these hills, a six-Munro horseshoe around Gleann a' Choilich that also includes the stunning multi-ridged peak of Sgurr nan Ceathreamhnan and Mullach na Dheiragain, one of the least accessible 3000-ers in the country. In all but the calmest weather this 13km loch gives a fairly hard paddle, and the surroundings could hardly be more isolated. Stirring stuff.

Returning from Beinn Bheoil  © Dan Bailey
Returning from Beinn Bheoil
© Dan Bailey

Down Loch Ericht to Ben Alder and Beinn Bheoil

Though these big grand hills are some of the most distant from a road of any in the central Highlands a good track from Dalwhinnie makes light work of the popular cycling approach. But the amphibious assault is far more exciting. Loch Ericht is massive, a ribbon-like expanse cutting a straight swathe through the land to give access to these remote peaks. Brave the haunted bothy of Benalder Cottage or camp on the shore, then enjoy a classic Munro circuit. One word of caution – paddling this far into any reasonable headwind will give you a full body workout before you've even set foot on the hills; best wait for a settled forecast.

Suilven by way of Loch Veyatie

An iconic sandstone monolith; a unique ridge walk with optional hands-on fun; some of the oddest scenery in the British Isles – what's not to like? Surrounded by a low rippling moorland sea, the sheer-sided free-standing spine of Suilven feels much like an island, so going one better and getting there by boat is only fitting. The 7km paddle down Loch Veyatie is one of the classic waterborne hill approaches. Put in at Cam Loch near Elphin, from where a short portage around a waterfall gains Loch Veyatie.






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