Adventure Queen Grant winner, Ashleigh Kitchiner, reflects on her October 2025 storm-disrupted solo adventure.
I’d been planning the Hebridean Cycle Way for months. Routes plotted, ferries booked, snacks packed, legs trained. You know that feeling when you’ve convinced yourself it’s all going to be a glorious mix of sea views, quiet roads and smug satisfaction? That was me.
Then Storm Amy decided otherwise.
One by one, the ferries were cancelled, and the weather warnings stacked up like a bad joke. I held out hope for about five minutes before accepting that cycling the length of the Outer Hebrides in 70 mph cross winds wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had.

So, in true “make it work” fashion, I changed course. Literally. Instead of the Hebrides, I headed from Glasgow to Arran and back. Shorter, yes, but with plenty of adventure still to come and just as much sideways rain.
To say it was “a bit windy” would be putting it mildly. There were moments when I was pedalling downhill and somehow still going backwards. At one point, I laughed out loud at how ridiculous it all was. The rain was coming at me horizontally, the clouds were practically on the ground, and my waterproofs had definitely given up trying.
But there’s something weirdly freeing about giving up on perfection. I wasn’t going to tick off the Hebridean miles or get the stats I’d dreamed of, but I was still out there, doing it, moving through the wild weather with nowhere to be except where I was.
Marine Conservation
The highlight of the trip was visiting the COAST Discovery Centre in Lamlash. As a marine ecologist, I’ve wanted to see the Lamlash Bay No Take Zone for years, it’s such a powerful example of what community-led marine conservation can achieve. Massive thanks to Katy at COAST for being so welcoming and for sharing so much about the work they’re doing. The centre itself is brilliant: part science, part storytelling, part local pride.
I also managed to get to an Arran Natural History Society talk hosted by Fiona from Arran Natural Heritage and Katy Waring at COAST, where I met Howard, co-Founder of COAST and a bunch of other people who are just as passionate (and delightfully nerdy) about the sea and nature as I am. It was one of those evenings where everyone’s swapping stories, geeking out over projects, and reminding you why you fell in love with this line of work in the first place.
The Cycling Bit
I didn’t cycle as far as planned. I didn’t see half of what I meant to. But it didn’t matter. Standing by the water in Lamlash, watching the waves crash into the bay, I couldn’t help but feel inspired. The No Take Zone and the Marine Protected Area are proof of what’s possible when communities take ownership of their environment. It’s conservation in action, not just words on a page.

I left feeling windblown, slightly waterlogged, but ridiculously grateful. Grateful for the people doing brilliant work on Arran, for the chance to still get out and explore, and for the reminder that plans are just that, plans. The adventure still happens, just not always the one you expected.
The ride back to Glasgow was calmer. Still a few gusts just to keep me honest, but nothing compared to the chaos of the way over. I rolled back into the city soaked through but smiling, already plotting when I could finally get back to the Hebrides.
Sometimes the best trips are the ones that don’t go to plan. You think you’re chasing a route, but you end up finding perspective instead.
Next time, I’ll take less kit, more snacks, and maybe check the weather before booking the ferries.

Reflection
Funny thing is, I nearly didn’t apply for the Adventure Queens Grant this year. I told myself I didn’t have time, or that someone else probably had a “better” idea. But I hit submit anyway and I’m so glad I did. Without that little push (and a bit of funding), I might have written the whole trip off once the Hebrides fell through. Instead, it gave me the motivation to keep going, to make the best of it, and to turn a stormy detour into something far more memorable.
One of the best parts of the grant wasn’t just the funding, it was having a mentor. Having someone in your corner who’s been there, done it, and still remembers what it feels like to be figuring it all out is priceless. My mentor was part cheerleader, part reality check, and part “voice of calm” when the trip started to unravel thanks to the storm. She helped me reframe the setback, reminded me that changing plans isn’t failing, and encouraged me to focus on the experience rather than the route. I honestly don’t think I’d have kept going without that support. It made the whole thing feel less like a solo challenge and more like a shared adventure, proof that a bit of guidance and kindness can make all the difference when the headwinds (literal and metaphorical) start blowing.
If you’re sitting there thinking about applying, but second-guessing yourself, just do it. Your adventure doesn’t have to go perfectly (clearly!), and it doesn’t have to be epic to be meaningful. Sometimes, all you need is a reason to start, and a bit of encouragement to keep pedalling, walking, rowing, swimming or whatever you decide to do!
This post was witten by Ashleigh Kitchiner. Welsh-born, Scotland-based ecologist Ashleigh enjoys the outdoors, nature and cycling. For her first solo challenge, Ashleigh cycled from Glasgow to Arran and back while visiting marine protected areas, the Lamlash ‘no take zone’ and attended a talk hosted by Arran Natural Heritage and COAST.