At the summit of the Bealach na Bà the world opens like a door. You have climbed through hairpins and past rocky gullies to a bare plateau at about six hundred and twenty-six metres, with a car park, a sign and, on a clear day, a view west across the Inner Sound to the islands of Raasay and Skye, with the Cuillin ridge jagged beyond. On a bad day you can see your front wheel. Both versions are worth having.
The summit is an exposed place, a bare shoulder of sandstone where the wind never quite stops and the temperature can be several degrees colder than at the foot. The ride up from the east side is the steeper, with the infamous hairpins, and from here the road begins the long descent toward the sea. Be ready for sheep and deer on the road, for cyclists grinding up in low gear, and for the occasional camper van that has not read the warnings. Frost and snow can linger into spring and arrive early in autumn.
The landscape is a world of rock and sky, with the corries of the Applecross hills falling away on either side, scoured by glaciers and dotted with small lochans. The rocks here are some of the oldest in Britain, ancient sandstones and Lewisian gneiss, and the geology is a paradise for those who care about such things. Golden eagles are regularly seen soaring above the ridges, and ptarmigan and red deer live on the high ground.
The route is more than a road: it is a pilgrimage for bikers, and on a summer weekend you will see riders of every kind posing beside the sign. Stop for a moment, take your photo and put your gloves back on, because the descent is as demanding as the climb.
There are no facilities at the summit, and the nearest services are at the village of Applecross on the far side. Treat the pass with respect, give yourself time and enjoy it.