The town of Foyers lies a third of the way up Loch Ness on its eastern shore. While the beginnings of the village can be traced to an inn, built back in 1655 at a time when Cromwell's troops occupied Inverness, it was not until the late 1800s that the North British Aluminum Company put Foyers on the map. For years the aluminum mills dominated the industry, until a drastic drop in the price of the metal, combined with Kinlochleven's easier access to the open sea forced the townspeople to refocus Foyers primary source of commerce. The answer lay in the village's abundant and varied sources of water, which included lochs, streams, and the River Foyers, which plunged a spectacular 140-foot chasm into Loch Ness. In their search for a suitable source of power for a new Highlands hydroelectric plant, British engineers quickly targeted Foyers Falls. Work began in 1969 with the construction of a two-and-a-half-mile-long pressurized tunnel connecting Loch Mhor to Loch Ness…

"… this major undertakin' allowin' the turbines, erected in the auld aluminum plant we're now passin', tae reverse the flow o' water back tae Loch Mhor at night when demand wis easier tae calculate, keepin' the head water supplied at all times."

The tour guide paused as the open-air bus rolled to a stop and belched exhaust in front of the old smelting plant.

Twenty-four-year-old Justin Wagner fought to conceal his yawn from the tour guide, then nudged his childhood friend, Amber Korpela. "We've seen the falls, let's skip the rest of the tour and go boating."

"Not yet. I want to see Boleskin House. The original owner was supposed to be heavy into devil worship. Did you know that after he died, Jimmy Paige bought the house and—"

"Amber, who cares? I didn't fly all the way from Alaska to see some stupid house. Let's grab a few more rolls of film, rent a boat, and do some serious monster sighting."

Taking Amber by the hand, Justin dragged her past the tour guide and off the bus. "Sorry, dude, Nessie calls."

Twenty minutes later, the two Alaskans were hiking down a wooded hillside path through lower Foyers, heading for Loch Ness.

Glen Doe Forest

With the sun beginning to set, I found my way to a small clearing in the thick of the forest, adjacent to a twisting creek that drained into Loch Ness. Whoever had occupied the campsite last had used dead branches to fashioned a lean-to, no doubt to keep out of the rain. Exhausted and hungry, I slid my backpack off, then set off to gather wood for a fire.