Inverness to John o Groats - a long day on the North Coast 500 · one way, about 610 km back to the start
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A one-way ride of 610 km, Inverness to the finish - roughly 8 h 56 in the saddle. The stops in between: Bealach na Ba, Applecross, Ullapool and Durness. It suits an unhurried touring pace.
Inverness is where the North Coast 500 starts and ends, the circuit that has turned the top of Scotland into a bucket-list road, and the sensible traveller treats the city as a place to arrive, wash, shop and sleep before heading out. It sits where the River Ness meets the Moray Firth, and for centuries it was the capital of the Highlands in practice, a market town at the junction of roads running north, west and south. The population of about forty-seven thousand makes it by far the largest settlement for a hundred miles in any direction, and that means all the fuel, tyres, spares and supermarkets you could want.
Before you leave, the city is worth a walk along the river, where the Ness Islands carry Victorian footbridges and tall trees, and the castle, a nineteenth-century building, looks over the water. Inverness is not ancient in appearance, because most of the old town was lost to fires and war, but it has a lively centre, a cathedral on the river bank and a big market. Culloden Moor, where the Jacobite army was destroyed in 1746, lies about ten minutes east, and it is a moving and quiet place; the visitor centre is a good short stop. Loch Ness, nearly twenty-three miles long, begins just to the south-west, and the Caledonian Canal that links it to the sea passes through the city.
The road north crosses the Kessock Bridge onto the Black Isle, and from the top you can often see dolphins in the firth below, which is a good omen. The A9 is fast and busy for the first stretch, but once you leave it the roads narrow, and the single-track sections in the north and west need patience, passing places and a willingness to wave at campervans. Summer brings heavy traffic, midges and long light, with dusk past eleven in June, so book accommodation well ahead. Spring and September are quieter and often dry on the east side.
On the morning you set off, top up the tank and think about the distances, because the next large supply is some way on, and many stations in the north close early or on Sundays. Buy midge repellent, check your tyres and carry waterproofs, as Highland weather changes between two bends. Cullen skink or a fish supper makes a respectable first dinner, and the smoked salmon here is good.
The name means the Pass of the Cattle, and for centuries that is exactly what it was: a drovers' track up and over the Applecross peninsula, along which cattle were driven to market. The modern road keeps more of that character than you might expect. It climbs from sea level at Tornapress to 626 metres in a tight, steep ascent, much of it single track, with passing places, blind corners and gradients that touch twenty percent on the signs. At the bottom, a warning notice advises that the road is not suitable for learners, large vehicles or caravans, and it is meant seriously.
This is the best mountain road in Britain, many riders would say, and the reason is its drama. The first section winds up a glacial valley through boulders and heather, and then the road reaches a sequence of steep hairpins that hug the hillside, with the drop a few feet away and little protection. On top, the land is a bare plateau of wet rock and peat, often in cloud, and the car park is a scrap of tarmac with a panoramic view across the Inner Sound to the islands of Raasay and Skye, with the jagged Cuillin ridge on the horizon, if the weather allows. Often it does not, as the pass can be wrapped in mist and rain even when the coast is sunny, and gusts of wind are common.
Ride it with patience. Single-track etiquette matters: pull into passing places on the left, and wave on those coming the other way. In summer, it can be slow, as tourists in hire cars inch up, and early morning or evening are better. The surface is generally sound but can be greasy, and in winter the road is closed when snow arrives. Sheep and the occasional red deer wander across, and golden eagles sometimes soar over the corrie.
Lochcarron, on the eastern side, is the safe place to fill up. The descent to Applecross village takes you into a sheltered bay, where a famous inn serves local seafood and is the usual reward for riders. Midges are fierce in still, damp evenings of summer, so consider carrying repellent.
Applecross is the end of a long, slow road, and it is meant to feel that way. The village sits on the shore of the Sound of Raasay, on a sheltered bay of sandy beach and low green fields, with the island of Raasay and the hills of Skye across the water. For centuries it was almost cut off from the rest of Scotland, reachable mainly by sea or by the steep pass of the Bealach na Bà, and the Gaelic name for the place, A' Chomraich, means the sanctuary. That refers to a monastery founded here in 673 by the Irish monk Maelrubha, who came from Bangor and spent decades converting the Pictish north. The site of the old church and graveyard still lies in a quiet, tree-sheltered spot, and carved stones from the early centuries have been found there.
Today the village is tiny, a scatter of whitewashed houses, a few holiday cottages and an inn beside the shore that has become a destination in its own right for riders and walkers. The seafood is local, with langoustines, crab and scallops landed in the bay, and on a clear evening the terrace is a good place to sit and watch the light fade over the water. There is also a heritage centre and a walled garden a little way inland, an unexpectedly lush corner for this wild coast.
The road beyond the village runs north along the coast to Shieldaig and Torridon, a different pleasure from the pass. It is a narrow, undulating road that follows the shoreline through crofting townships, with rocky outcrops, small bays and views over the sea, and it is slower and gentler than the climb. Wildlife is part of the show: otters in the sea lochs, seals on the skerries, and white-tailed eagles in the right places. The surface is single track in many parts, with passing places, and the corners are often blind, so pace yourself.
The weather here is decided by the Atlantic, which can mean sparkling clear air or a week of horizontal rain, and midges in summer are a real bother in still conditions. Fuel is limited in the peninsula, so arrive with a full tank and plan for the next pumps in Lochcarron or farther afield. Be flexible with time, because everything on this road moves slowly, and that is the point.
Ullapool is a white-painted fishing village laid out on a grid, which in the Highlands is as unusual as a roundabout. The British Fisheries Society planned it in 1788 as a base for herring boats on the shore of Loch Broom, and the long straight streets facing the water reflect that planning. Today about fifteen hundred people live here, the harbour is busy with creel boats and the ferry to Stornoway on Lewis, and in summer the quay fills with visitors eating chips from paper and looking out to the hills.
North and west of town the landscape becomes theatrical. The A835 climbs out of the village past Corrieshalloch Gorge, a deep wooded slot with a suspension bridge across it, then continues to the high moorland of Inverpolly and the strange isolated peaks of Assynt, Suilven and Stac Pollaidh, which rise from boggy ground like stranded ships. The rock is some of the oldest in Britain, gnarled Lewisian gneiss and Torridonian sandstone, billions of years in the making. Red deer cross the roads, and golden eagles hang over the ridges.
As part of the North Coast 500, Ullapool is a convenient place for supplies, and a pleasant place to pause. The road north is a mixture of fast, wide sections and single-track lanes with passing places, so learn the etiquette. Pull in to the left or opposite a passing place, wave thanks, and do not park in them. Sheep wander, caravans trundle, and the weather, always fickle, can go from clear to horizontal rain in half an hour. Midges are fierce on still summer evenings, especially from June to August. The best months are probably May, early June and September.
Fuel is plentiful in Ullapool, whereas north of here pumps are fewer and sometimes close early, so fill the tank before leaving. There is a good choice of cafés, bakeries and seafood places, and the local langoustines, landed from the loch, are worth ordering. If the evening is clear, walk to the end of the harbour and look across the water to the hills.
Durness is where the road runs out of Britain and starts to feel like the edge of something. It lies on the north coast of Sutherland, a long, thin scatter of crofts around a wide sandy bay, with the Kyle of Durness and its pale beaches below and the flat-topped hills of the interior behind. The A838 arrives from the south by way of Loch Eriboll, a deep sea loch where warships sheltered in the Second World War, and the bare moorland there gives you a sense of how empty this corner is.
There is plenty of interest for a place so remote. Smoo Cave, a short walk from the village, is a huge limestone cavern with a waterfall inside, entered from a sea inlet beneath towering cliffs, and visitors can take a short boat trip into the inner chambers during the season. At Balnakeil, a quirky group of low buildings that began as a Cold War early-warning station is now a craft village, with potters, a chocolatier and a bookshop. The beach at Balnakeil is among the finest in Scotland, with clear green water and white sand, though cold even in July.
A small ferry crosses the Kyle to a minibus that rumbles along a rough track to Cape Wrath, the north-western tip of mainland Britain, topped by a lighthouse built by Robert Stevenson in 1828. The cliffs here are among the highest on the British mainland. Bikes cannot go on the track, and the lighthouse area is also part of a military range, so check access and timings before planning anything. At Faraid Head in summer, you can see puffins nesting in the turf.
The road in is a fine ride in its own right, though much of it is single track with passing places, and the weather changes without warning. Sheep and tourists are the traffic. Fuel in Durness is limited, so arrive with a full tank and plan to refill in Ullapool or Thurso. The village has a small shop, a few places to eat and some excellent bed and breakfasts, though in summer you should book. Long light in June, and sharp autumn colour in September, are the best times.
Nothing about John o' Groats is subtle. It sits at the north-eastern tip of mainland Britain, in the flat, wind-scoured county of Caithness, and the whole point of arriving is to stand at the signpost, which tells you that Land's End is about 874 miles away by road. People get here on bicycles, on foot, on motorbikes, in vintage tractors, and almost all of them have a photograph taken by the same sign. The nearest towns are Wick, twenty-three kilometres south, and Thurso, twenty-seven kilometres west, and both have fuel, supermarkets and places to eat, while the village itself has a harbour, a few shops and cafés and a very full car park in summer.
The name comes from a Dutchman, Jan de Groot, who ran a ferry to Orkney in the fifteenth century, and the story goes that he built an octagonal house with eight doors so that his eight quarrelling sons could each enter by their own and sit at a round table without argument. A summer passenger ferry still crosses the Pentland Firth to Orkney, and on a clear day the islands, particularly Stroma and the hills of Hoy, are plainly visible across the water.
The better scenery is a few kilometres east at Duncansby Head, where a lighthouse stands on cliffs above the sea and a short walk leads to the Stacks of Duncansby, sharp pyramids of sandstone rising out of the surf. In early summer the cliffs are full of seabirds, with puffins among them, and seals are often seen on the rocks below.
The riding here is flat, open and exposed. The A99 from Wick is a fast road with long, straight sections, good surface and very little traffic outside the season, but the wind can be ferocious, and sudden gusts from the Pentland Firth will push a bike sideways. Wear a good layer even in July, as the temperature can drop quickly. In winter, the roads are quiet and the light is remarkable, but daylight is short and ice is possible.
Fill the tank in Wick or Thurso before heading out, since the village is small and there is no guarantee of fuel at the end of the road. After the photograph, spend an hour at Duncansby and have a hot drink before heading back down the coast.
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