If you climbed well you could use the Gray Man's Path and scale the cliff.

Kenny himself had climbed it.
Joan, busy with the single oar, lost nevertheless no single word of it.
She was eager and intent.
"I suppose," said Kenny, "that the Gray Man is the spirit of the mists of Benmore.

But to me he's always Twilight.

Twilight anywhere." The girl nodded, quick to catch his mood.
"And to-night," she said, "his path is the river.

He's coming now." Kenny's Gray Man of the Twilight was stealing closer when they landed.
With the feeling of dreams still upon him he followed the girl up the path.