A walk to Sandwood Bay

I first read about Sandwood Bay in 1982 in that wonderful series of hardback ‘Classic Walks’ books written by Ken Wilson and Richard Gilbert. Gilbert’s description of the walk fired my imagination, “rounding the cliff, one of the most glorious sights in Britain unfolds before you. Below your feet lies Sandwood Bay, a mile long sweep of golden sand bounded by rolling dunes and crashing breakers that makes you want to shout for joy”. I too wanted to shout for joy in Sandwood Bay. Thirty Nine years later I got the opportunity.

There is something elementary beautiful about the north west of Scotland. A visit here is an invitation to breathe out and reset your mind body and soul. Wild and windswept, it’s unpolluted air, dark skies and sparse open landscape helps clear away mind chatter and set aside, if only for a short while our everyday concerns and responsibilities and return to a simpler way of life, one of communion with nature.

The historic county of Sutherland  is made up of Lewisian Gneiss, three billion years old and among the oldest rocks found on Earth. In Great Britain it is only found here, in the far north west of Scotland, a remnant from eons past when dinosaurs roamed and the Highlands were connected to North America. The coastline of Sutherland is rugged, rocky, steep and can be treacherous. It faces into the wild North Atlantic Ocean and must bear the full brunt of unforgiving winter storms that come crashing into it year after year.

There are many good reasons to go to Sutherland and one of the best is to walk to Sandwood Bay. And walk there you must as there is no road or vehicle access. Sandwood Bay is often described as the finest and most unspoiled beach in the U.K. And who am I to argue with that. Set into the rocky coastline with a mile or two of pristine golden sand to walk on it’s no wonder people want to visit it. Thankfully, the fact that it is a long way from pretty much anywhere else and the four miles that you must walk to get there provide a natural filter and although it is popular it doesn’t get overcrowded.

The bay and surrounding land is managed by the John Muir Trust. That’s the same John Muir that uttered the words that grace a million Instagram posts: ‘The mountains are calling and I must go’. John Muir was born in Scotland but moved to America as a child and later became the father of the National Park movement. He is quite rightly recognised as one of the worlds first conservationists and the trust carries on that important work.

The area is also a Special Area of Conservation because of its rare and diverse habitat, particularly the presence of Machair. Machair is formed by wind blowing shells and sand from the beaches inland over moorland creating a uniquely fertile and grassy plain. It is only found on the exposed north western fringes of Scotland and Ireland and no where else on the entire planet.

The weather is dry and the sun shines through thin clouds as I leave Mrs E doing some art on the grass bank next to the small car park at Blairmore and start my walk to Sandwood Bay. The bay is four miles north of Blairmore on a good but stony path that is well maintained by the Trust. The first half is cyclable and a couple with a young daughter pass me on mountain bikes early on.

I pass several small lochs, the main one being Loch na Gainimh as the path winds its way through the peaty moorland, a gentle breeze riffling through the cotton grass. The flat moorland gives a great sense of space and light around me with big skies and expansive views.

At the half way mark there is a rather incongruous bike rack which signals the end of the cyclable trail and the start of a rougher, more undulating path.

Three more small lochs are passed and as the path starts to descend to the bay I come across the solitary, ruined and roofless Sandwood Cottage. There are many such abandoned cottages throughout Scotland, reminders of the Highland Clearances that forced many Scots from their homeland, sending them off to the new worlds of America, Australia and New Zealand.

Past the cottage the path curves around and I see Sandwood Bay for the first time, a long strip of yellow sand nestled among the cliffs. Large dunes covered in Marram grass form a formidable buttress protecting the freshwater Sandwood Loch behind them. The cliffs stretch north as far as the eye can see to Cape Wrath and the top of Great Britain eight miles away.

I head down into the deep soft sand of the dunes which is hard going trudging through it. The dunes hide the beach but eventually my effort is rewarded as the last dune is passed and I step out onto the golden sand of Sandwood Bay. 

I have a good look around and walk along the shoreline. One of the prominent features of Sandwood Bay is Am Buachaille, translated ‘the herdsman’. A 213ft high sea stack to the south of the beach it was first climbed by Tom Patey and Ian clough in 1968.

After exploring, I sit for an hour listening to the waves rolling in and breathing the clean salt air, ‘taking the ozone’ as my granddad would say. The waves are the only sound, metronomic and mesmerising. My thoughts drift and my breathing slows into the rhythm of the sea. I’m at peace, content to have finally made it here.

Just as I am settling in and thinking I might stay a little longer, the incoming surf starts to lap at my feet. ‘Time and tide wait for no man’ I think and take it as a metaphor for my visit here, a reminder to keep getting things done.

Ambitions and goals are important things in life. They keep you centred when you are tempted to wander and lose focus. They enable you to reset and look forward to the things as yet undone, but one day will be done if you just keep your motivation and keep moving forward in life.

Thirty nine years is a long time, but Sandwood Bay waited for me and I got there in the end. 

Below is a video I found on the John Muir website about our wild places. If you love the wild places of this country and want them preserved they may be worth a donation. 

Route Map, Walk Stats, Geolocated Picture Gallery and 3D Flyover Video Below.

Click ‘Learn more’ on the map.  Note: you won’t see the map if reading in WordPress reader but click on the little world at the top of the page to view it on the browser.