The End Of The Line

A ride to Loch Ossian offers great scenery, some challenging terrain… and a chilling sense of isolation

- Alex Corlett

IT was as calm a moment as I’d everexperienced. Arriving at Corrour Station,I’d gone for shelter to one of the platform benches for my sandwich, but it wasn’t strictly necessary – the air was still, and nothing was falling from the sky, despite its grey heaviness.

Niall was crunching through the thin snow nearby, exploring the quirky signs and photo opportunities at this famously remote spot. The sign with onward travel information was emphatic in its affirmation of our isolation. Taxis? Nope. Buses? Nope. Just a freephone helpline. We were adrift in a sea of scrubby white.

At this furthest point of our ride to Loch Ossian, we must have been about 25km from where we parked up on the A86. I’d told Niall that the whole ride would be little more than 35km, but I think I’d made that number up. Not being deliberately deceptive, I just couldn’t remember – but I did know that it would take us less than four hours, and at this time of year that was what mattered most.

It felt foolish to stop moving. Maybe because the silence was so overwhelming. Maybe because you could feel the danger signs of your body cooling almost immediately. Maybe just because on short days in big country, the whole thing feels like a race against time.