Tents, Tides & Two Wheels: Wild Camping Motorbike Trip on the Isle of Skye

Some people book cosy B&Bs with en-suites and heating. We packed our gear onto the motorbike and pointed it toward the Isle of Skye for a wild camping motorbike trip. In Easter. With no plan other than a vague desire to do some wild camping near a loch and maybe not freeze to death in the process.

What could possibly go wrong?

To be fair, Scotland's wild camping laws are brilliant – it’s completely legal thanks to the Land Reform Act, as long as you’re respectful, leave no trace, and don’t pitch up in someone’s vegetable patch. Perfect for two idiots with a tent, a stove, and wildly misplaced optimism about the weather.

The motorbike ride up to Skye was stunning. Long, winding roads, jaw-dropping views, and that special kind of bone-deep chill that only comes from Easter in the Highlands. The motorbike handled it beautifully, but my fingers did not. I think I lost contact with my toes somewhere around Glencoe.

By the time we made it to Skye, we were frozen stiff and ready to find a spot to call home for the night. Eventually, we stumbled across what looked like the perfect place — tucked near a loch, quiet, scenic, and far enough off the road that we could just relax.

We started unpacking the bike, trying to beat the last of the light. Tent up, gear out, almost ready to settle in — and then a car rolled up. A local guy leaned out of the window and asked the question no wild camper ever wants to hear:

“Have you checked the water times?”

Cue that creeping feeling that we’d maybe done something idiotic. Again.

Turns out the loch is tidal, and our perfectly chosen campsite was due to become an impromptu swimming pool sometime after midnight. We checked the tide info — sure enough, he was absolutely right.

Massive thanks to that man, whoever you are. You saved us from waking up adrift.

So, we packed up again. Still cold, and with the light starting to fade, we dragged everything higher up the bank and pitched the tent for the second time — racing dusk and laughing at how close we’d come to a midnight swim.

Dinner? Late. Freezing. Cooked over the camping stove that I wanted to cuddle more than eat from. Deon insisted on calling it a braai (because South African pride doesn’t take nights off), and I let him. Mostly because I couldn't feel my face anymore to argue.

But waking up the next morning — chilly, but clear — with the sun rising over the hills and the loch perfectly still in front of us, it was completely worth it. And seeing where we almost pitched? Fully underwater.

Dodged that very cold, very wet bullet.

Would we recommend a wild camping motorbike trip to the Isle of Skye?

Absolutely. Just remember: bring warm gear, check the tide times, and always trust friendly strangers who pull up in cars late at night.

Motorbike & Wild Camping Trip to the Isle of Skye.