I drove the forty miles south from Arisaig to Kilchoan on the Ardnamurchan penisular. The last seventeen miles and the road is so narrow and twisty and turny that I wondered if I would ever arrive. When I did I was less than impressed. I was underwhelmed. I decided to give the place a chance and parked up at vast expense. I would have had better views had I parked on the CalMac dock. The showers would have been a ten minute walk nearer as well.
I’ve always held a fascination for things that are incomprehensible. Navigating with a sextant just grabbed me. The one trans-Atlantic we did with a home made sun stick job was equally impressive. I hit the Caribbean not more than five miles away from our intended land fall which was Ginger Island and behind it Tortola, the capital of the Virgin Islands. It was a great experience. Just lots of worry for three weeks and then for everything to come good. By did we get wrecked when we got ashore but we didn’t get wrecked on the shore.
Ardnamurchan is a magnet for geologists. Sixty million years ago you could see Greenland from here and Iceland was just a volcano. It still is.
The weather hasn’t been helpful.
This is Ben Hiant from the pier at Kilchoan I am parked in somebodies back garden just to the right of the pine trees you can see in the middle distance. To the left is a pitchstone ridge and to the right summat else. It’s very complikated.
This looked like a bit of a Basalt dyke. Not too clear or obvious in the murk but as a Rocker I guessed. The white stuff is a form of ogsummat. I’ll guess at tonalatite. Don’t fret. They are all igneous and Basalts. The same as Fingals cave on Staffa or the Giants Causeway in Ireland
I was in a good mood again for this is a Cone Sheet overlaying sedimentary rock. I love looking at stuff that can survive two or three ice ages. I wish I knew more about what I am looking at. I bought a book ‘Ardnamurchan a guide to geological excursions’ by C. D. Gribble. I did try to understand it and it was helpful but the language was worse than ‘Twelve Years a Slave’. It gave me a headache.
By Monday I was getting a bit pissed off with the southern English tosser who owns the house in whose garden I was parked. No showers, a nasty twisty entrance and £15.00p/night.
Monday morning I got up early, I thought I have to take the truck through the calderos or whatever the volcano magma top is called. It is impressive and would have been more so had it not been misty. I got to Sanna.
I’ve moved, I needed a rest from my fellow English. I’m now on Loch Sunart at Resipole about seven miles west of Strontian. Weather is drizzly but clearing.
Enjoy the rest of the week.