Distance : 30.38 Miles / 48.89 Kms
Ascent : 1678 ft / 511 m
Terrain : Tarmac = 100%
Difficulty = Challenging
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/course/62723719
The last time we visited the Isle of Harris, a few years ago, we were blessed with a week of sunshine, and temperatures in the high twenties. We were destined to be disappointed this time, surely? As it happened, we were more than happy with the weather gods on our return. Although the temperatures weren’t as balmy, and a few cloudy days reminded us of our location, on the whole we had another dry week with plenty of sunshine. Perfect for hitting the beaches, but also great for running the trails and riding the roads.
The Isle of Harris and the Isle of Lewis are, in fact, one island, located in the Outer Hebrides. Lewis lies approximately 50 miles from the West coast of mainland Scotland, or 2 and a half hours by boat across The Minch, a stretch of water separating the two. Harris can be reached from the West coast of the Isle of Skye with only 100 minutes of seafaring.
Harris occupies the hillier and more rugged South of the island whilst Northerly Lewis is generally flatter, with wide expanses of moorland. The name “Harris” may well originate from the Old Norse “Haerri”, meaning “higher”, a reference to those hills, especially in comparison to its lower lying neighbour. The Isle of Harris is further divided into North and South Harris by East and West Loch Tarbert. An isthmus separates the lochs and provides a convenient place to locate the Isle’s capital, Tarbert.
Although North Harris has its merits, I simply love the character of South Harris. The sweeping beaches of white sand and crystal clear waters of the West coast lie in front of an amazing backdrop of North Harris’ mountain ranges. Sheep and cattle laze on the machair, low lying arable or grazing land, formed near the coast by the deposition of sand and shell fragments by the wind. The machair is the focus of most Hebridean crofting agriculture.
By stark contrast, the East coast is a lot more rugged, with a rocky shoreline creating a multitude of little bays and inlets. Thousands of lochs and lochans (mini lochs), formed by receding glaciers, perforate the landscape. This is a land where some of Europe’s oldest rocks are smothered by deep blankets of peat. At 3,000 million years old this rock, known as Lewisian Gneiss (pronounced “Nice”) is two-thirds as old as the earth itself!
At the planning stage, I decided to split my cycling route into two for South Harris, so that each ride provided a more manageable distance. Considering the climbing and the fantastic scenery, you may wish to travel at a slower pace and you probably won’t want to overstretch the distance. If you fancy riding it all in one go, as I did on my first visit to the island, it is easy to link both routes together. I have provided a GPX and FIT file for you to download the full loop too should you need it. The individual rides, though, are slightly different, but they both offer rich rewards. See my blog post entitled “Luskentyre & The Golden Road (Part 2)” for the second route.
I circumnavigated South Harris by bike when I last visited the island in 2018 and I was blown away by what it had to offer. The roads are smooth, well maintained, and quiet. Although the West coast is flatter, there are one or two short climbs on this side of the island, which can become quite an effort into a headwind. Of course, this depends upon the direction you are travelling. Last time I rode in a clockwise direction around the island. Although I might have had a tailwind along that West coast, I realised that it was along the East coast that I really wanted the push, so this time I rode the route anti-clockwise, and I wasn’t disappointed.
My route set off from a parking spot just off the recently upgraded A859 (see map at bottom of page) 7 miles South of Tarbert, as you drop down towards Luskentyre beach. It was a bright sunny morning but I knew a strong South-Westerly wind was going to greet me on my journey. I fancied the first half of this ride was going to take some effort, but as I rolled down towards the Western shoreline everything was peaceful and easy. I sped through sections of singletrack road without the hindrance of oncoming traffic and soaked up the views. Rippled glassy waters stretched out towards slivers of golden sand underlying distant rugged hills and mountains. I had forgotten the sheer beauty of this place.
White houses were thinly scattered across a lush machair full of small flowers dancing on the breeze. Many are now holiday homes, and what amazing positions they hold…battling the elements for many months, no doubt, but basking in the glorious conditions when they arrive.
The road snaked along a rocky outcrop towards Horgabost, and I snaked between tarmac happy sheep, and past another popular holiday habitation. The campsite at Horgabost sits snugly behind the dunes of a stunning sandy bay, sheltering from the worst of the Atlantic elements. It’s a great option for a low cost stay.
Just beyond Nisabost beach, which is a great spot for surfing, is Talla na Mara (Centre by the Sea). This stylish arts and entertainment centre hosts a number of small studios for local artists and artisan producers. There is the fantastic “An Traigh” restaurant, serving excellent food, either indoors or outdoors on their wide decking, both areas have spectacular panoramic views. A few days after my ride I tried the Lewis burger…it was probably the best burger I have eaten…and I’m not exaggerating!
Beyond Talla Na Marra I realised that I was being less protected by headlands. The forecast headwinds were no longer forecast but full cast into my face, slowing my progress considerably. I wasn’t too disheartened though. I knew that before very long I would be utilising this considerable elemental force to blow me up the East coast on a very special road.
I paused at Harris Golf Club at Scarista. Established in 1930, this 9-hole links course is possibly one of the most isolated and picturesque locations in the world for golfers. I encouraged a couple of cheery club wavers to demonstrate their swing for the camera, just to give the photo context. They were very happy to oblige!
As I bordered the sandy inlet towards Northton I could see the climb that I would be facing to reach Leverburgh beyond. Broad reed beds bent towards me, trying to show me the path of least resistance, but I pushed on. At least I would soon be on wider roads and unable to hinder the progress of any traffic looking to pass a weary pedaller. After a few minutes of being drafted at snail’s pace by a range rover on a quiet and wide straight road, I reached the summit of this small bealach, and sat up to wave past my stealthy pursuer, and I trundled on, down into Leverburgh. To be honest, I’m a lot more grateful to patient drivers than those who adopt the opposite strategy!
Leverburgh is the second largest village on Harris, but it still only has a population of around 200 people. The village was originally named Obbe, taken from the Norse word for a bay. It was renamed after the South Harris estate was bought for £36,000 by English businessman, William Lever, 1st Viscount Leverhulme, in 1919. William Lever had planned major developments for the fishing industry of the region with Leverburgh at it’s centre. Unfortunately, after contracting pneumonia on a trip to Africa, William Lever died in 1925. His executors and the board of Lever Brothers Limited had no interest in the Leverburgh project, so they sold off the village and production facilities for £5000, and the estate for £300, to the Campbell Brothers, a local family. Today, the village harbours the ferry to North Uist.
Still, the wind would not let up as I made my way through the village and out of the other side. A half-mile straight merely provided an unsheltered drag and a prolonged look at the climb over to Rodel, rather than a chance to build my speed. Maybe I’m painting too bleak a picture. After all, I needed the practice, and if the wind hadn’t been so strong, the climb would have been unremarkable. It just reaffirms that molehills become mountains to the tired cyclist.
I ventured a shop stop at Grannie Annie’s as I rode the road to Rodel. I paused outside in the hope of liquid refreshment, but none were to be found and I had no place to store the gifts from this quirky little shop, so I trundled on. Rodel sits in a pretty little glen with an unpronounceable loch for company (Loch Thorsagearraidh).
The impressive St Clement’s Church stands on the edge of the village. It was built in the early 1500’s as a burial place for the Macleod Clan, and generations of notable family figures have been entombed here since. The church contains an unparalleled collection of later medieval and post-reformation sculptures, and the finest of these is the MacLeod tomb. I wish I had taken a look inside…I will certainly be back.
As I continued on around the next corner it was like turning the fans off. All went quiet and I could hear birds tweeting. The wind was now behind me. I had been looking forward to this moment.
The “Golden Road” runs North-East from Rodel towards Tarbert and what a joy of a road it is. I could ride this road every day and not get bored! It is a pure rollercoaster of a road, rising then dipping all the way, sailing around bends as you go, new vistas opening up at every turn. There is certainly more descent as you travel in this direction too, which helps the legs, as you will certainly feel it after this wonderful workout. Just keep an eye out for the few cars that can suddenly appear from seemingly out of nowhere!
I wish I could say that the road was named for it’s amazing attributes, and I guess in a backhanded way it was, as it was named due to the cost of its construction. It was built in the 1930’s to link up the small communities that had developed along this coastline. During the clearances of the 19th century, landlords displaced the islanders from their crofts on the West coast, in favour of profitable sheep farming on the fertile machair. The enterprising islanders, subsequently, made their way by foot to the East coast to build new homes, improve the land for crops and livestock, and fish the lochs and rich coastal waters. The thick peat has long been cut and dried as a source of fuel.
This region became known as the Bays. I love the names of the small townships too…“Quidinish”, “Ardslave”, “Geocrab”, “Flodabay”, “Manish”…they are intriguing and mystical, especially when spoken and spelt in a Gaelic tongue. 60% of the island’s population still speak Gaelic.
After 10 miles of glorious ups and downs, twisting and turning along the coast, I reached the junction to Lacklee. You can follow the Golden Road from here along the coast towards Tarbert for another 10 miles, but I wanted to savour this on another ride, and I really wanted to take in what I believe is the cherry on the cake.
Just beyond the turn for Lacklee is my favourite climb, possibly of all time! For me it really is that good. I might be making a fuss here and it may be just nostalgia, but I love the character of this climb. It isn’t the longest, steepest, or even possibly the prettiest, but it has something that draws me to it.
The surface is smooth all the way and that helps maintain a good momentum. It has curves to match an alpine ascent. It rises, then falls a little to allow you to recover a little pace. It is open enough to see what lies in wait and prepare yourself. A few industrial buildings aside, it gives great views from the summit. It is set in amazing rugged scenery. Oh, and it is quiet. I think you gather how much I rate it! We better move on.
From the top of this ascent, I turned left at the junction, for a fast comfortable two mile descent down the A859 back to the car. This ride may take a little effort, but if you can get to the Isle of Harris, I can’t emphasise enough how much it is worth it!