Sonder Bikes
Sarah Hall rides solo through Scotland's Highland Trail 2026, a self-supported bikepacking race testing grit, gear and community on wild terrain.
With words and images by Sarah Hall
With repurposed bagel bags for waterproof slippers and a strong sense of equality in self-supported bike packing events, Alan Goldsmith has curated a life affirming journey into the wilds of Scotland. For a breakdown of what riders actually pack for this route, see our Highland Trail 550 kit review.
The 2026 edition was the first with full gender parity on the start line, and the energy that this created was palpable. Lee Craigie's dulcet tones set us off with humility and anticipation, and the pack soon dispersed into the beckoning landscape.
I spent much of the first day looking around in admiration - on the Ben Alder hike-a-bike section I was surrounded by strong, capable and inspiring women, a chain of whom followed each other's dust trails up the Corrieyairack Pass, and the fizzing energy in Fort Augustus Chinese spurred me on into the night.
Normally I would undertake big challenges like this with my partner, but we had both decided to compete solo without the comfort of our own personal emotional safety blanket. To me, an event like the Highland trail is a competition with the self - to finish in most efficient and competent way possible. Maybe next year I can improve on the cankles, the lack of hot meal resupply and the sleep deprivation.
After a wintery turn in the weather, I changed riding top for long sleeved merino sleep layer and pushed into the storm - taking temporary shelter in some abandoned loch side ruins, before leapfrogging to an open church along frozen trails for a touch more sleep. The morning after, I paused in a patch of sunrise on the descent to Oykel Bridge and took my 'scratch' photo. In this moment I had decided I'd taken too many risks on what was supposed to be the easy section of the route and didn't trust myself to make smart decisions moving into the upcoming wilder sections. After all, they say the race truly starts after Ullapool - and that felt like a impossible distance away.
I declined a cooked breakfast at the hotel I'd broken into, subconsciously realising that I would need to continue sooner in order to make my next planned resupply that day. I pushed through the boundary of fear and a lack of trust in myself - and continued to stretch my bubble of comfort. I rode into the nights, and into bad weather, and made decisions in each moment to maintain forward momentum, even when doubt reared its unwelcome head.
The moments shared with other riders is indescribable in their positive and lasting impact. A shared 4 hours sleep in a public toilet block with movement sensor lights and family sized quiches, impromptu simultaneous river crossings, leapfrogging on sketchy hike-a-bikes, zombie eyed and overwhelmed in supermarket resupply. The communities we passed through also spin a thread into the tapestry of memory - the fully booked hostel who set up a bed in their cleaning shed, the local shops who stayed open late to warmly welcome soggy shoes and vacant stares, the walker sharing the same bothy lunch spot and hiding from the hail, the kayakers wishing well as I rode past them on loch side single track in the morning light.
It wasn't until I'd dragged myself and my bike down the Devil's Staircase into golden hour in Glencoe that I truly believed I was going to complete this Highland odyssey. I had originally set a 7 day goal for myself, and it wasn't until after I finished by darkness that I could be persuaded of the fact I had achieved this, despite inclement weather and worsening ankle issues.
I sat in the unofficial race HQ of the Real Food Cafe in Tyndrum, a week after the grand depart, and observed the clarity of completion. It's hard to put into words the affect of an experience like this without using all the usual stereotypes but trust me - it's the journey not the destination, and you really are capable of so much more than you know, and be scared and do it anyway. Do it for the plot.
Read more rider perspectives from this route in Pips on the Highland Trail.