The next morning our tiredness from the previous days rigours as well as the rain battering on nylon just a few inches from our ears made us reluctant to stir far or fast from our sleeping bags. Neither was the weather forecast very encouraging either. The gale blowing meant no progress would be possible that day, even in the lee of this large island, so I set out once more to retrieve the car and trailer.
A mile walk to the road, a hitch-hike into Broadford, a bus to Armadale and the ferry took me back to Mallaig where I collected the vehicle and retraced the route, having bought a few more supplies. The weather prospects for the next day sounded very promising however and we started to get excited about actually completing the venture. The tides meant that an early-ish start would be useful and with the benefit of the enforced rest day, getting up to finish it all off was going to be no problem. As dusk fell the wind was moderating and for the first time on the trip we had time to have a beach fire. With a drop of something warming in the coffee after a good meal and the anticipation of probably only one more leg, all was well with our world.