STROMNESS, Scotland -- My traveling buddy, Priscilla, and I had gone to Scotland intent on summiting the highest peak in the United Kingdom: Ben Nevis.

At a mere 4,406 feet, some hikers and climbers might sneer at the cautions that natives impart. But the meaning of its name -- widely believed to be "shrouded in fog" -- and the quickly changing weather than can swoop in with little notice should be heeded seriously.

Our plan had been to both hike the 4-1/2-mile trail to its summit and back down, starting at sea level, and to do some of the epic rock climbs in the area. But Mother Nature had other ideas.

In the three days we stayed in Fort William, the town at the base of the mountain, we never got a weather-worthy day to summit.

On the one day we attempted, a sign at the trailhead offered this ominous warning: "Not a good weekend for venturing onto the mountain. Do not become another accident statistic! Turn back if unsure."

We turned back about halfway up after getting reports from other hikers coming back down that gale force winds and blizzard-like conditions had moved in up top.

Hampered by weather

Although veterans of similar nasty and unpredictable weather encountered in New Hampshire's White Mountains, we were humbled by conditions beyond our control.

After several days of hanging around in Fort William we grew weary of remaining stationary, and bagged the idea of hiking "The Ben," as its known.

Instead, we rented a car and headed north past Loch Ness, driving five hours or so up to Thurso on the northern tip of Scotland's mainland. No, we didn't see the famed Nessie and we didn't stop to check on this myth either.

And, yes, it was a bit odd for this American to drive on the left side of the road, and to handle a stick shift with my weaker and less-coordinated left hand. But I got used to it fairly quickly, and after "kissing" the curb a few times, I drove without any major mishaps.

We made two stops along the way: the Clava Cairns, a group of cairns and stone circles dating back to the Neolithic period (roughly 4000 B.C. to 2000 B.C.). They're just a short jaunt from Culloden, only a slight detour off Highway 82.

The other stop was in North Kessock on the Black Isle, where the North Kessock Hotel offers tantalizing promises of spying dolphins in the water from a seat in the restaurant.

We saw no dolphins, but I ate something completely different for my American palate: haggis. It is, shall we call it, a Scottish delicacy.

It is chopped up lungs, heart and liver mixed with oatmeal and cooked in a sheep's stomach. That's not exactly a mouth-watering description. But I actually found it quite appetizing and similar to pate, only more of a minced consistency rather than a paste. Mine was cooked inside a breast of chicken. My vegetarian companion stuck with salad, a frequent meal for her on this trip to meat-heavy Scotland.

Well-fed, though disappointed at spying no dolphins, we continued north toward Thurso, a small town of about 9,000. We made it there in the early evening, and headed to a campsite on the coast just outside of Scrabster, the town where we planned to take a ferry the next morning to the Orkney Islands.

Struggle to set up camp

The campsite's location along a rocky shore made it difficult to set up the tent. We fought fierce winds that threatened to send my new tent tumbling over the ledge and into the waters below. We positioned it against a series of slate stones that formed a short wall, hoping it would keep the wind at bay, and placed the car on the other side to act as another buffer.

I fell asleep with the roof of the tent swaying back and forth. Rather than keep me awake with fear, the rhythm seemed to soothe me like a child being rocked gently to sleep in her crib.

The P&O Scottish ferry takes close to two hours to get from Scrabster to Stromness, the second-largest town on the southwestern tip of what is called the Mainland island of Orkney. It can be choppy going, and the old trick of watching the horizon to prevent seasickness came in handy.

You get your first look at the Orkneys about halfway there, when you spy the Isle of Hoy -- the second-largest island in the collection of 67 islands that make up the Orkneys.

Most breathtaking is the Old Man of Hoy, a 449-foot spire of rock that has been seemingly chiseled away from the rest of the island over time by wind and sea.

Our first stop was Skara Brae, an ancient village built below ground. It is a collection of eight dwellings that are linked by a series of narrow tunnels. Sitting on the Bay o Skaill, this Neolithic "subdivision" is made entirely of stone and is topped with short, nubby grass that makes it look like a golf course.

The floors are covered with sand, and each dwelling has a large room with a fireplace, beds and a dresser -- all made out of stone. It was inhabited between 3200 B.C. and 2200 B.C., and abandoned at some point when encroaching sand dunes -- and perhaps a fierce storm -- threatened the area.

The site was discovered in 1850, when a great storm that year uncovered traces of the structures. Historians believe that Skara Brae was inhabited continually for more than seven generations, and that no more than 50 people lived there at any one time.

Our next stop was to the Ring of Brodgar in nearby Stenness, the site I had read about in several guidebooks and the one that most intrigued me. We arrived at about 10:30 at night, and since the Orkneys are so far north -- about 59 degrees north and 4 degrees west -- some light remained. It resembled dusk, when the sky is low and the sun casts strange shadows as it inches out of sight.

The Ring of Brodgar resembles Stonehenge. It is a series of stone arranged in a perfect circle. These days, just 27 of Brodgar's original 60 stones remain standing. Some have been wiped away by weather, others have been taken over the years by farmers who needed them as gateposts or for repairs to other stone structures.

Historians believe it was built between 3000 B.C. and 2000 B.C., and that the ring was probably part of an enormous complex of prehistoric circles in the area.

Brodgar is bordered on one side by the salt water of the Stenness Loch and, on the other by the fresh water of Harray Loch. It's believed to have taken 85,000 hours to 200,000 hours to build both the Brodgar ring and the Standing Stones of Stenness, another nearby ring of stones.

The stones are massive at Brodgar, ranging in height from 6 1/2 feet to 15 feet, and they're arranged in a perfect circle that is 340 feet in diameter.

It seemed more fitting to see it in the quiet of night.