The Outer Hebrides. Scotland. 2023.
Watch the film here.
Noel readies himself at the start line of the trip. We knew that it was unlikely that we would get to ride any trails in Scotland so on the way to the border while still in England we rode down Kielder Forest Drive. This 12 mile gravel road is a fantastic way to take in big forest views. This shot was taken next to ‘The Nick’ art sculpture that you can walk inside. The team’s spirits were at a pre-trip high.
Carter Bar is a tourist hotspot and marks the transition of the A68 road from Northumberland, England into The Scottish Borders. The huge stone announces which side of the border you are standing on. Just after we pulled up a bus load of Chilean school girls arrived and proceeded to mob the kilted bagpipe player. He sold a lot of Scottish souvenirs not long after, while standing on the English side of the border!
The riders and their adventure bikes were... Noel Thom + Honda XR650 L Rupert Jordan + Husqvarna 701 Davy Myers + GasGas ES700 Wil Linssen + KTM 690 Plus out of shot... Clive Barber + Honda CRF 300 Rally Greg Villalobos + KTM 450EXC My ongoing gratitude goes out to them. Thank you for letting me point my lens at you.
There’s a delicious irony that in England and Wales, you can ride dirt on trails that are legally classified as roads, but you can’t wild camp. And in Scotland there are no legally classified trails for motor vehicles, but you can pitch up a tent pretty much anywhere. You have to pick what kind of adventure you want. We set off on this journey without a solid plan. Unlike previous Trans Euro Trail trips, we had no GPX route to download and follow. It sounded like total freedom. Or would it turn into a total compromise? For the first leg Noel became our de facto leader based on the fact that he has ridden this area many times before, and consequently knows the roads and secret camping spots by heart. The opportunity in Scotland was to not have to rely on busy, often sanitised campgrounds and instead find wilder, more remote spots to pitch up our tents at the end of the day. Here on our first night near Killin, Noel brought us to a wonderful rustic field next to a sweeping bend on River Lochay. There were others already camped and whilst it made it feel a little less wild, it did offer some reassurance that these six Englishmen were probably allowed to sleep here. Wild swimming has been a common theme on our moto adventures, and Wil was happy to continue the tradition here in the River Lochay, and we would get more opportunities later into the trip as we approached the
Alongside the ‘light motorcycle’ vibe, the team often employ a ‘light packing’ approach to their gear. The idea being to take as little as possible whilst balancing the benefits of less weight with the minimum required for comfort. This extends from camping chairs (not required in my opinion) to food (definitely required). Experience has demonstrated that for these kinds of trips you are never far from a meal, and most often a sandwich or sit down dinner in a restaurant can be the perfect way to end the day. However. Only a fool would set out without at least one, preferably three, emergency rations in their lightweight packs. For those long, tiring days that end in a field, rather than a cafe / restaurant. Here we see Rupert tucking into the classic £1 bag of Uncle Ben’s cooked rice while Wil sups a warm beer. The next morning I brewed an AeroPress coffee down on the pebble beach. And then we stopped at the first cafe. For another coffee. And a full Scottish breakfast. Haggis and all.
Wil chases Noel down on his KTM 690 Enduro R. Along with the GasGas ES700 and Husqvarna 701, which are all essentially variations of the same machine, this bike has gained ‘unicorn’ status in the lightweight adventure moto world. A single cylinder bike that’s powerful enough to eat up road miles, light enough to pick up on the trails, and engine service intervals long enough to get you from one end of a country to the other. Perfect at everything? Or entirely compromised?
For some of the guys, every mile we rode north into Scotland became the furthest north they had ever been. And their rewards for that effort were roads carved into landscapes that became more dramatic the further we went. This switchback pass on the edge of the Applecross peninsular was a lightweight motorcycle playground. On my request the guys rode up, and down, and up, and down while I merrily fired away on my Canon R5 camera and 70-200mm lens.
Rupert, Wil, Noel and Davy all point to their desired destination. Clive looks on. Greg takes photos. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. The ‘no plan, no destination, no GPX idea’ slowly starts to unravel as it becomes apparent that everyone on the trip has a different idea about what success looks like. Little did we know that in one day’s time we would become a man down. And in two days time the remaining group would fracture further. But at this moment, at the harbour in Applecross, life was good.
Finding dirt trails to ride in Scotland had been the driving force of this trip. Could it be done? Legally? Earlier in the day, while prepping the bikes in Applecross, a conversation had been struck up with a local trail rider. He knew of a superb trail that he regularly rides on his Beta trials bike. “You should go ride it.” “You will love it.” “It’s a wee bit narrow in places.” “And a bit steep” So after a quick consultation of the map we deduced that the start of the route looked like an unpaved track. Great, no problems there. Further up, it was less clear cut. An hour later, on a narrow singletrack with a steep right hand drop off, we started to question our earlier decision to trust the locals.
Davy, Rupert and Wil manhandle the Husqvarna 701 into a U-turn on the narrow trail. Two things had become apparent. Firstly, this was not a route suitable for fully luggage loaded trail bikes, even lightweight ones. It was hard. It was borderline dangerous. It had stopped being fun. Secondly, what started out as a well established unpaved road with no indication that vehicles were not permitted, had turned into a narrow path that just did not feel right. We were not confident that this trail was where we were supposed to be. No one in the group had any problems turning around.
Clive wonders if now would be a good time to crack a joke. Noel sucks in the pain. Thirty minutes earlier Noel had swapped his trusty old Honda XR650L for Davy’s newer, more powerful GasGas ES700. The idea had been to have a ride of the newer bike and get an idea of what technological advances feel like for someone more used to riding older machines. It was all going well until Noel got a little heavy on the throttle and flipped the GasGas while pulling a wheelie. He fell off the back and the bike landed heavily on his left foot, snapping his fourth and fifth metatarsals (although he wouldn’t realise this until he got home a week later). Clive, normally so quick to make jokes at his friend’s expense wisely decides that now is not the time. Noel’s broken foot would become a pivotal moment in the trip.
We’re all going to be OK - Clive’s got wine!
Clive, Rupert, Wil, Davy and Noel’s broken foot enjoy the sea view at Sands Campsite, near Gairloch. While we had been trying to avoid campsites in favour of wild camping, Noel’s foot predicament plus the fact that this campsite backs onto a wonderful beach, made for a well needed rest stop.
Rupert takes in the sunset via his FPV (First Person View) drone and goggles. Controlled by moving his entire hand / wrist, the drone is capable of recording high speed, extreme manoeuvre footage that used to be the reserve of high end commercial film crews. Rupert’s kit is small and light enough to fit in his rucksack.
Six became five as Noel opted to rest up on the mainland while the rest of us made our way to Ullapool under wall to wall blue skies. From there an evening Calmac Ferry would take us off the mainland to Stornoway on the island of Lewis and Harris.
The Isle of Lewis proved to be a turning point. A stressful evening hunt for a campsite was followed by a tense conversation in the morning about whether to stay on the island or head back to the mainland. Whilst the ‘no plan’ idea had offered a lot of freedom, it became apparent that the downside was that when it came to crunch time, the guys wanted different experiences out of the trip. For Clive, Rupert and Wil, the desire was to keep moving and head back to Noel on the Isle of Skye, which combined with limited ferry crossings, meant leaving Harris the day after arriving. For Greg and Davy, getting to the islands was an opportunity to stay and explore, paying for this extra time with a long ride home on the last day. Unable to reach an agreement, the group split, a difficult experience for all involved. These photos show the guys arriving cold, tired and slightly delirious into a campsite near Melbost Borve late into the evening. A large glass of red wine to take the edge off before collapsing into the sleeping bag.
Scotland is big on renewable energy, wind farms in particular. The Isle of Lewis is no exception. While exploring the small singletrack road between Breiscleit and Stornoway, Greg and Davy spotted a cluster of wind turbines in the distance, fed by a gravel service road.
The south of Harris sees the terrain transform into something more akin to a Nordic landscape. Hundreds of small lochs nestled amongst rocky outcrops. Tourists weave their way through in campervans on freshly laid tarmac roads. And when we looked carefully on the map, Davy and I realised that there were often the old roads running parallel to the new ones. Stopped up dead ends left to be reclaimed by the landscape. Where we could we veered off to explore.
The Calmac ferry from Lewis to North Uist is small and weaves its way around the rocky islands that scatter the crossing. Despite the fine weather, most passengers opt to sit inside and take in the view through the panoramic windows. It feels like you are in the cinema watching a huge high fidelity screen. Davy and I had opted to stay on the Islands for as long as possible, which was to be paid for by a big 300 mile ride home on the last day. Our trip to Uist would be brief, just 6 hours, but we felt in our guts that it would be worth it.
Our brief exploration of North Uist came to a conclusion as we turned off the main road to explore a sandy track whilst looking for somewhere to have a quick wee stop. As we crested a small rise we were greeted with a huge deserted white sandy beach, being licked by turquoise sea. Add a little heat and sunshine and we could have been in the Caribbean. It felt like a real reward for all the effort to get from Newcastle to the Outer Hebrides on our little adventure bikes. We had left all our camping gear back on Lewis, so without any swim gear there was only one option, the first and last skinny dip of the trip!
North Uist is just 17 miles long and 13 miles wide, and yet in our six hours there we only made it halfway around. The island is littered with stunning beaches that are accessed from the main road by unpaved rough tracks. Sometimes gravel, sometimes sandy grass. Designed to help campervans get to the beach, they were perfect for our lightweight trail bikes. At the end of one track our bikes rolled onto a wet sandy bay. We had discovered the five mile causeway that leads out to Valley Island.
The Scandi theme continues across the south of Harris with this Swedish Volvo backed up against a bright orange tin hut. Tourism and fishing were the main industries that caught the eye, with bright red doors marking the entry to modern timber clad homes, and salmon farms scattered around the inland bays. For this shot I was able to use our in-helmet intercom to direct Davy to the exact crest of the hill while I fired away with my 200mm lens.
Noel enjoys the last gravel trails in England while riding down Kielder Forest Drive on the Enlgand / Scotland border. The plan was to camp for the entirety of the trip, carrying everything we needed on our lightweight adventure bikes.
For Greg and Davy the long journey home started at 5am in order to catch the ferry from Tarbert on the Isle of Harris to Uig on the Isle fo Skye. Without a whisper of wind, and the sun rising, these small lochs were like pools of mirror mercury creating a perfect inverted landscape. A truly spectacular way to end the adventure.