My long-planned autumn paddling and photography trip had come around at last, and the forecast was looking good for settled but cold conditions over the north of Scotland. Having had a brilliant trip to Glen Affric the previous autumn, I decided to revisit the area, basing myself at Cannich again.
It was a couple of weeks later in the year, so I hoped that the autumn colours would have had time to mature a bit more, but hopefully without too much leaf fall.
A long drive north saw me arrive at Cannich about 30 minutes before sunset, so the car was quickly unloaded into the camping pod, and without more ado, I set off up the glen to get on the water.
With very little light left, I decided to get on the water at the Loch Beinn a’Mheadhoin dam, and managed to get afloat a few minutes before sunset.
Conditions on the water were everything I had hoped for – calm and quiet, an antidote to the eight hours of driving needed to reach this place.
With a relatively cloud-free sky, and the long northern twilight, I decided to head up the loch, through the narrows. I aimed to reach the upper loch before the light went too much, but stopped several times to enjoy the reflections on the way.
Although the horizon was blocked by a bank of cloud, there was some colour to the sky as the sunset display peaked and faded.
In the gloaming, I could still see to navigate though, so headed into the narrows in the growing twilight.
The calm conditions continued into the night, but as I worked my way up the loch, I found my progress far slower than I expected. Working harder gained me ground, but then I started to feel the hull moving under me – not what I expected on calm flat water.
A few boils appeared either side of the boat, accompanied by the noise of a cascade entering the loch. With water levels so low, the water authority were refilling the reservoir from a sluiced side stream. In full daylight this wouldnt have been a problem, but it was an unwelcome surprise in the near-dark!
Pulling over to the far bank to avoid the disturbance, I was soon passed the stream and approaching the upper loch. Twilight had been and gone, and I was now paddling under moonlight shadows.
I turned to retrace my path. Clouds were building in the sky and beginning to encroach on the moon.
Before long even that faint light had gone, and I was left with my headtorch to pick out the shoreline as I followed the north bank back to the put-in.
I had only been on the water for a couple of hours, though it felt much longer. Refreshed already by this trip under moonlight shadows, I could look forward to a promising week with canoe and camera.
Leave a Reply