Tom Court hadn't been on a decent kite trip for ages, but a promising weather system on Scotland's northern coast delivered an unforgettable kiteboarding experience. Join him as he recounts the highs, challenges, and pure stoke of kitesurfing Scotland’s wild highlands in this exclusive feature!

It has been a while since I have made a decent kite trip, the sort of trip that tests your steel on the water, where the conditions make you double-guess your equipment choice, and you feel that uncomfortable feeling of being perched on the edge of your seat the whole time. When you have been kitesurfing for as long as I have, that is a tough trip to book. It certainly wasn't the sort of kiteboarding trip that I thought I would get right on my doorstep… the fun starts at the edge of the comfort zone, at least that is the result of experience over time, the inevitable push to find new adventure, fresh pastures and more gnarly conditions! This is what action water sports have become for me, and where better place to start than in the Kingdoms…

One evening, a good friend called me. He had been eyeballing the low-pressure systems rolling into the north sea from the Atlantic, as you do on a quiet autumn evening with nothing else to do; he was frothing on what it could deliver along the Northernmost coastline. Having been to Scotland himself a few years previously, he was way more excited than I was at the prospect of hitting the highlands in search of the perfect shreddies. For some reason, ‘Scotland’ doesn’t often come up when planning a quick kiteboarding getaway, a long weekend or a trip with the boys… I would say ‘I am not sure why’ in an ironic tone, as the prospect of heading as far north as you can drive in your own country, into the cold temperatures, midge’s and torrential rain, brutal storms and crushing coastline that the highlands are known for; however now that I have been, I am not sure why…

We boarded our easy jet flight, nice and smug in the knowledge that Ross Williams, pro windsurfer and good friend from the Isle of Wight, was driving most of the heavy gear, windsurfers, foil boards, wing boards, spare wetsuits, etc., up to the furthest reaches of Caithness on a solo overnight mission, as we sipped iced latte’s from the cabin comfort at 32.000ft. Half an hour later, we landed at Inverness Airport swiftly, with no passport needed, and went directly to the rental car. We loaded the board bags and set off on the 2-hour drive to the centre of our Scottish exploration, Thurso. 

At the stage in life that I am now entering, which I assume is the stage of life of most kiteboarders, it is hard to find any friends without kids, so to get the opportunity to get two of my good mates away and on the search again, was a special occasion. Arriving just after dark, having rented ourselves an Airbnb for less than £100 per night, we immediately set up the gear for the dawn session and analysed the developments in the forecast. 

One of the most interesting things about this area of the world is how fast the weather can change. You have to up your forecasting game, be fluid with your decisions, and take your chance to score the right conditions when they present themselves. So, with a detailed analysis of Windy, Windguru, Magic seaweed, Charts, the local weather forecast, and Google Maps, we identified the best spots for us to check at first light. Lights out.

Lights on. Rain streaming down the windows, 30+ knots rustling the stunted trees out the window, full English breakfast, three coffees, gear check to the car and on the road. The first point we identified on the map was Merkel Point, a twisted hook of land bending back into a sheltered bay, with perfect sheets of flagstone rock forming the reef. 

We had considered the swell direction, wind direction, and twists and bends of the weather fronts rolling through. This was the spot! Checking it with the drone, we knew it was time to get the first session underway. Bumping down the long, overgrown, off-road track to find the secret bay, as soon as we saw the ocean, there wasn’t any doubt that this was the first shred.

Ross, one of the UK’s best windsurfers, got on the water first, confident about the reef and its appearance. It wasn't until I saw him making the lineup that we had an accurate idea of size: a windsurfing mast around 4m tall, some of the sets rolling through as high as the mast. It was on! Rigging the Dice SLS 7m and the DLAB pro fish, I was set for the shred. On a kite mission like this, you never know what set-up to take until that last minute. Sailing out, watching Ross hit the apex of his third turn down the line on the same wave, it was clear that these were world-class conditions. Side to side-off shore wind direction as the waves lapped onto the reef. This was nothing like I had ridden in a long time, since my last trip to Mauritius, just about 25 degrees colder, but not another person in sight!

Pulling into some waves, it was clear that this was a 4/5 turn lineup, with options on the upper reef and maybe even a barrel section as the wave wrapped back into the wind on the inside and dried out on the kelp bed that lay on the inside. Lacing into the clean butter, smooth water on the bottom turns and cranking as hard as possible back to the lip, keeping the lines smooth and flowing as the pro fish demands, the dice fluttering downwind as they reacted to each turn of the bar. One hand is on the controls, and one is in the wave, brushing the smooth water to judge the radius of the turns. On my backside, it is my weak direction, backhand, regular on a long left-hand wave. Luckily, some time in Mauritius had sharpened me to these conditions, and after a few warm-up waves, we could start pushing. I was happy that the tide, rips, winds and weed were safe enough if anything went wrong. Ross and I traded waves for hours; the first session of the trip must have been at least 4 hours. Sam is on the beach with the camera, and endless head-to-double-over-head swells are rolling through. It is hard to come off the water when the stars align like that, a pilgrimage paying off in the most accurate form. 

Buzzing like a fire alarm that’s run out of battery, we came off the water exhausted to find out the rental car had a flat tyre, and we were stuck in the middle of nowhere. When all we needed was a cold pint and some food to complete the first day shred, we spent a few hours on the phone to the local garage, waiting for the mechanic to come and fix the tyre. I was still unsure if it was a coincidence or whether a local surfer had obliged us not to return to this hidden gem. Only adding to the adventure, after we had the tyre replaced, that beer tasted even better as we sat in the local watering hole in Thurso, analysing the coming day's forecasts and dreaming about the potential these northern shores had in store for us.

After a solid, dreamy sleep filled with barrels and deep water hold-downs, we awoke for day two of the Scotland raid. After kiteboarding for well over 20 years now, it is always amazement when a trip over-delivers, and it has also become clear to me that the success of your enjoyment relies on how versatile you can be as a rider. If you are fixated on one style of riding, then it can severely limit you on what spots and conditions you find appealing. That is why I have progressively expanded my learning journey to encompass all the forms of shuddery, stepping into the ‘Waterman’ category and following in the footsteps of riders like Kai Lenny or Robby Naish, who have set the level of enjoyment on the water. There are not many other locations that embody changeable conditions like Scotland does. One second, it's firing 40+ knots point break shredded for kite or windsurf; the next, it’s light offshore barreling slabs, and you bump into the likes of Nathan Florence surfing 10s as you scour the coastline for the next session. When you find yourself rubbing shoulders with fellow adventurists like the Florence brothers and bumping into Sam Light in his RV, you know you are on the edge of the marble, in the right place at the right time and usually in the middle of the storm! And there we were!

We spent the day scoping slabs to find a ridable section and finally ended up surfing our personal point break, no one around, scoring barrels and turns to our heart's content. So, to have the ability to Multi-task on sports, I filled the windless gaps that would only last half a day before the next weather front hit. As the wind started to build again, we raided the back of Ross’s van, as he had driven with the Lion's share of the equipment, digging out the wingfoil setup to score an outer reef we had found. Tucked behind a small harbour village near the Doom Ray Nuclear reactor, Ross and Myself spend the afternoon trading waves, riding ocean humps as they come in from the North Sea. Too off-shore to kite effectively, the freedom of a wingfoil and being able to ride directly into the wind became apparent. When making the most of what nature throws at you, you need the right toys for the job and the hours of practice honing the skills start to pay off! Riding the endless humps inshore as the sunset and whether fronts rolled through was nothing short of stunning; the glimmering light casting shadows on the water and rainbows in the sky made nothing short of magic in the air.

Cracking around the edges, hands sore, backs in pain, we arose to another shred. Wet wetsuits stuffed in the bucket in the back of the van, we set off to find the furthest northern tip of mainland Britain, Dunnet Head. A lighthouse situated atop a massive cliff that looks north towards the Orkney islands. Onto of the cliff, near the lighthouse, is a group of interconnected lakes (or lochs in Scotland), and the aim was to score a free-ride kite session in the northernmost loch. As we arrived, the wind was howling on top of the cliffs, the sea raging below, and the morning light bursting through the clouds. 

Using the drone to scope out the best spot to ride, we scoped the area and set out the plan. Pumping up the kite in the heather and hiking across the open Scottish backcountry was sunning. The land was flooded with constant rain; it's easier to kite across some of the landscape than walk, and as I got to the loch, the wind picked up, and the rainbows started to pop out. This was one of the most special kite sessions I have had in a long time. It's not always the conditions that make the session, but it's the effort that has gone into getting there. As the rain showers cleared, the rainbow burst into the sky, and I ripped downwind through the small channels connecting these water pools. It was a feeling of the actual backcountry kiteboarding free ride I look for on my exploration trips. Something so unique, and to be possibly the first person to have ever kited, there was an insane buzz… Coming in, packing up my kite in the rain, and bundling my gear into the back of the rental car, we had to rush directly to the airport; late for the flight back south, we were exhausted from the trip. However, there is nothing quite like the satisfaction of feeling the blood flow back into your fingertips as you warm up from a mission that has pushed you to your limits, feeling content in the knowledge that we had shredded as hard as we could. We left nothing on the table as we made the most of everything Scotland could throw at us!

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KITEBOARDING A RAINBOW LAKE - SCOTLAND Ep.5
By Tom Court

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