Skye’s beauty becomes immediately apparent as you begin the ascent towards the Old Man of Storr. Up close the weatherbeaten structures are an utterly unique sight and a geological marvel. Cast your gaze outwards and the immense Scottish coastline can be seen in the distance.
The Old Man of Storr marks the end of the walk for most, perhaps because most assume that such a stunning view could not be overcome by continuing up the mountain. However, venture onwards and you are rewarded with an exquisite encompassing vista of the entire eastern protrusion of Skye. You are actually able to turn and see the sea on either side of the peninsula. Great mountains reach up and punch the horizon in one direction, whilst behind you the sea stretches it’s legs out to touch the sky. It is breathtaking.
On the climb to The Storr (the mountain the Old Man of Storr draws its name from), we were accompanied by many a gnarly mountain sheep. One in particular caught our eye. His matted woolly dreads swung in the wind like trophies of past battles won - proof of his verteranship. Hollie, whilst motioning a route forward with a (particularly enthusiastic) thrust of her walking pole, fired the inner shaft sheep-ward. This sent the population scarpering in fear of the rocketing projectile. All but the battle-sheep that is, who tottered off cooly down the mountainside.
On The Storr's summit ridgeline, dramatic 90-degree rock faces presented themselves on the opposing cliffs. From then onwards the views crescendoed into an epic finale. A week's deluge of rain had swamped the land far below, drowning the fields which we had passed on the journey up. Temporary lakes had pooled, with no quick escape. Destined to soak into the earth's skin or dissolve and drift skybound.