My recent trip to Over Phawhope had me craving bothy adventures again, so I’m just back from two nights in the pretty remote bothy at Knockdamph. It looked like a nice one to visit, and I was in the mood for a decent hike. This one was about eleven miles from Ullapool, but it didn’t look particularly difficult (hohoho, more on that later).

Bag packed, I set off for Ullapool in the car on Tuesday morning. It was a pleasant drive – the A9 wasn’t particularly busy, and it turns out that the A835 from Inverness to Ullapool is quite a nice road to drive down. I parked up in the centre of Ullapool, right next to the Tesco store. This is bit of a first for my bothying adventures – normally parking involves being somewhere remote. Actually setting off from a town felt rather weird. I got hiking at about 2.30 in the afternoon. Earlier squally showers had cleared, so I set off through town and up the road towards Loch Achall.

Walking conditions were very good, which was just as well. I can normally walk eleven or so miles without any trouble – my November hike from Corrour to Rannoch was close to fifteen – but I’m out of practice doing it with a giant backpack. It makes things much harder! This is only my second proper bothy trip since the end of restrictions on their use last year, and I’d forgotten how much work a long hike with a lot of weight is. My trip to Craig only involved about half the distance.

The initial part of the hike wasn’t hugely pleasant, as the first part beyond Ullapool itself goes past a couple of quarries, and so there’s a lot of industrial stuff around, but once you’re past those, the walk skirts around the northern shore of Loch Achall, and becomes very enjoyable indeed. It’s flat and easy going, along a good surface. I saw a few other walkers and a fair few people on bikes, but it was otherwise perfectly still and quiet, and I took plenty of photos.

The route passes a couple of houses and cottages in pretty spectacular locations. The very off-grid cottage at Cadubh really caught my eye, it looks gorgeous, if you fancy something a little more luxurious than a bothy.

Not far beyond that, there’s East Rhidorroch Lodge. The walk goes through the grounds of the lodge, before heading up onto the moors.

That’s how the Scottish Bothy Bible describes it. I’d describe it as an absolutely brutal change of terrain, involving a very steep uphill trudge for a good couple of miles, and it was pretty disheartening after I’d spent a few miles thinking “cool, this is pretty easy.” It began to turn into seriously hard work. Thankfully, by the time Loch an Daimh came into view, the ruling gradient pointed downwards again, but it was still a tough trudge until the bothy came into view, at around eight o’clock.

This raises some questions about how I choose to navigate to bothies. I usually always take an Ordnance Survey map with me, but I’ve tended to never really have to use them. I usually use my Garmin eTrex 10 GPS, which has proven perfectly adequate, as it carries full GPS data of bothy locations. It also provides useful information on distance and time to go, but as the gradient began to get tougher, the time to go kept stretching into the future, and seeing that is harsh as you feel your body giving up on you. Maybe I need to rethink my strategy. It might be best not to constantly be told you’re slowing down and still miles away from your goal.

Just before I reached the bothy, a guy rather bravely cycling up the path I was walking down told me I’d be sharing it with three older guys. When I got there, I found them to be excellent company. and they were generous with their booze, so a very pleasant evening was enjoyed by the fire. It was great to rest and eat, and get the weight off my suffering feet.

The bothy itself has three rooms on the lower floor, and one attic room. It’s a little grotty and manky as bothies go. They’re all dirty to some extent, but this one felt a bit more so than most. There’s some mould on one of the walls downstairs, although thankfully the main room is pleasant enough. Two of my fellow occupants chose to camp outside, with one occupying the downstairs sleeping platform. I ventured upstairs, where there were actually two beds with mattresses. Admittedly they looked seriously grubby, but I went ahead and used one anyway, and it made for a pleasant and comfortable night.

There’s no local fuel supply, so if you want a fire, you’ll need to lug it in yourself. I did, in the form of a few logs made of recycled coffee grounds, but they turned out to be a bit useless, and I’m not inclined to use them again. A stream runs down the side of the building, and turned out to be a plentiful supply of very clear and clean water.

The others had left by mid-morning. Another guy dropped in early on Wednesday, but was soon on his way again. Much of the day was pretty wet. One of my ideas for something to do involved a hike out to The Schoolhouse, another bothy about four miles away, but I decided on being lazy and relaxing instead. After an afternoon nap, I got a sudden burst of energy and decided to try for a walk to The Schoolhouse, as the weather had improved, but the route turned out to be pretty waterlogged, and after about a mile, I turned back, which I think was a sensible decision. I had quite an early night in the end.

This resulted in me being awake very early on Thursday. As unsettled weather was forecast, and I was very aware of how long the hike back was, I wanted to get going as soon as I could, especially as it was dry and still when I woke up. I was packed up and hiking back (slowly, because blisters) by about 6.

It took me about six hours to get back to Ullapool, some of the latter part of the hike in stormy and wet weather, but I made it intact, just about. I really do need to sort out proper boots, socks and blister prevention. I was hobbling about like an arthritic pensioner by the time I got back to my car.

The other thing I need to think about here is what I take with me. Excess weight is a big problem on a long hike like this. I’m not a fan of gear snobs, but keeping things light is essential. Anything that I don’t absolutely need to have with me needs to stay at home, but that needs to be weighed up against making sure food is adequate, and that I’ve got all I need to stay warm and dry (obviously a bigger issue in winter). It feels like things need to be planned with the precision of a space mission! Every last gram is essential! Keep the weight down!

Anyway, this probably means not taking heavy cameras (phone is completely adequate for photos), taking less water (stream did the job fine), keeping food weight down (more dehydrated stuff) and going easy on other luxuries. Fuel for the fire is also very heavy, but going without it is potentially problematic. I think I need to do some research on all of this. I know there’s some people who head out onto the hills and into bothies with remarkably minimal amounts of stuff, but I’m quite scared to do that. What if I really need [insert name of novelty camping gonk here], and don’t have it?

At times, I did wonder what the hell I was doing putting up with the dirt and discomfort, but still somehow bothies call out to me, and I love visiting them. I’m sure I’ll be back in another soon. There’s always unpredictable adventures to be had, and I love them!