Day two is a belter on this route. You travel far and fast mostly on remote landrover track and, if you're at the head of the race you reach the most northerly point, The Beach Horn, late in the afternoon.
But in 2016, Lee's first attempt at the completing the Highland Trail took a bit of a turn at this point. Words from Lee below with images by James Robertson.
"Philip, Stuart, Javi and I were leading the race. We left the Oykel Bridge Hotel at the same time and made a beeline due east, into treacherous angry clouds that enveloped us a couple of miles down the road. Torrential rain fell from the sky and bounced off the road, soaking us twice until we reached saturation point and it no longer mattered. We climbed all afternoon in warm wet kit out of Glen Cassley until we had gained the exposed first summit on the northern loop above the power station. Lightening split the sky and thunder bowled into us like audible battering rams. I was scared.
The weak evening sun was now emerging sheepishly from behind the remaining clouds. It was as though the slabs were grabbing all the sun's energy like the petals of winter flowers might, and funnelling it into my cold, wet form. The heat and wind I generated as I motored along dried out my clothes and topped me up with as much fuel as if I had stopped and eaten a three-course meal. I continued on this wave of energy to the foot of Glen Golly before swinging west and beginning the traverse across the most northerly section of the route. This remote inaccessible section that begins at 50m and climbs to 500m over the infamous Bealach Horn demands respect. The going is steep and conditions underfoot usually boggy and slow but, despite the afternoon of torrential rain, the previous week of dry weather meant there was none of the usual sinking of wheels. These favourable ground conditions didn't affect the steepness however. We pushed our bikes above our heads upwards out of the craggy bowl, all around us the deafening roar of what until a few hours before had been meandering streams but were now rushing torrents, making their frenzied way to the sea.
I topped out the northern loop in glorious evening sunshine and contoured around Foinavan and Arkle on a teeth-rattling fast track before dropping to the road. It was 8pm on Day Two of the HT550 and I felt the happiest I had in a long time. Distracted by the surreal, luminous way mountains can look after a rain storm is quickly superseded by slanting sunshine, I was able to push away that niggling concern I'd had all along about changing the map file on my Garmin. There was no reason for it to be a problem so why should I be worried? I rolled along the landrover track round Loch Stack eating a pork pie and pressing the buttons that would take me to my new return journey GPX track. Then… meltdown. My Garmin Etrex 30 swooned like a bad actor and stared back at me empty and dull of screen...."
If you want to find out what happens next you'd better get moving tomorrow to earn your free posted copy of Joining the Dots, the story of The Highland Trail 550 in 2016.
