I was as happy as a pig in a puddle to be able to travel to the hills during my May holiday this year. I missed it last year of course because of lockdown. However, I suspected that more than a year of reduced activity might have taken its toll, so I opted to start with a relatively gentle walk through the Cowal Peninsula, from Arrochar to Dunoon. For much of the walk, I used the Cowal and Loch Lomond Way, one of Scotland's long distance walking trails. However, I decided on a shorter version of it that would enable me to carry a relatively light load of camping kit and food for just four days. The route also took me through some new areas which is always appealing.
The late train popped me out at Arrochar on a beautiful evening, albeit a chilly evening for early May. Given the recent cold spell, I'd packed woollen baselayers for extra warmth which I never normally do in May. It's usually the point in the year that signals my switch to summer kit in the hills. I set out from the station, contouring round Cruach Tairbeirt on a beautiful woodland path. Unfortunately, the only good spot it offered for pitching the tent was under an electricity pylon where the ground was flat and the grass short. The views down Loch Long were lovely at least, especially the next morning when the rising sun turned the Cobbler into shades of gold. The woollens were a wise choice too as the high tops were dusted with fresh snow.
A beautiful walk followed after breakfast as I trekked through to Ardgartan. Although the map shows the track passing through commercial forestry, the trees either side were actually quite mixed and the ride wide open, allowing variety in the vegetation. Then a delightful path wound its way down to the loch through the most beautiful woodland, all lush and green from the fresh spring growth.
My trail flirted briefly with the loch shore before climbing steeply up Coilessan Glen to eventually pop out on the high pass below The Brack, the craggy peak that dominates this place. This was a wild, windswept spot but a blue lochan reflected the sunny sky and offered a spot to rest a while against a rock. The view stretched to more craggy hills extending westwards and I knew my path was somewhere amongst them.
A long, long descent from here took me down to Lochgoilhead through pretty woods with tumbling waterfalls and pools that would have been hard to resist if it had been warmer, or at least more like the usual weather for May. I rounded the head of the loch and headed into ugly territory now with blanket forestry in the process of being harvested. Somehow, I still found a lovely camp spot by the river which was backed by a stand of remaining pine trees and a rusty wire fence, a welcome facility for hanging up wet waterproofs and damp socks to dry in the evening sun. This was bliss for me to be out in the tent again. The river gurgled, birds tweeted in the trees and the evening passed pleasantly. I never know how the time passes in the tent but somehow it goes at a slower pace, collecting water, making supper and just watching the world go by.
The evening was idyllic but the next day less so. Light rain at breakfast time gave way to heavy rain for the rest of the day. I crossed another high pass north of Beinn Bheula where the rain turned to sleet and the lochan reflected a grim, grey sky. As the day wore on, the rain got heavier and I was ready to stop walking, get dry and camp as soon as any opportunity arose. However, no spots appeared until late afternoon. I was walking now down the west shore of Loch Eck and hoped that the flatter ground around a ruin marked on the map might provide a spot. It seemed to take forever to get there but eventually the broken, moss-covered walls of the ruin appeared. It provided a stunning camp spot. Mature trees overhung the perfect green grass which was dotted with bluebells and primroses. A pebble beach picked up where the grass ended and the sound of waves washing over stones filled the air. It was perfect except my heart sank when I unpacked and realised that the rain had somehow got through to my sleeping bag. But no matter what, you always feel better once you've changed into dry clothes and the stove is on for a pot of tea. I managed to get some sleep too by just using the dry half of the bag.
The wet sleeping bag meant that the next day would have to be the final one of the trip. I continued down the shore of Loch Eck, which was a stunning walk. Even the low hills here were dusted with fresh snow which contrasted with the vibrant yellow of the trail-side gorse.
At the south end of the loch, I headed to a place that I had wanted to visit for a number of years called Puck's Glen. It's a delightful gorge walk built in Victorian times with little bridges spanning the river and places where the path is just a narrow ledge carved into the rock. There are waterfalls and pools, mosses and ferns. It was a magical walk.
My trip ended on the Dunoon ferry as it headed out of the harbour and made its way across a slightly bouncy Firth of Clyde to Gourock. When I got home I realised how my sleeping bag got wet. It turns out that I own two orange rucksack rain covers and I had managed to pack the smaller of the two which didn't fully cover the rucksack. Flippin Eck!
Photos on Flickr
Finish: Dunoon
My route: On leaving Arrochar & Tarbert station, turn right at the bottom of the steps and follow this path through to Arrochar. Continue around the bay and opposite a car park on the far side, the hill path to the Cobbler starts and is signposted. Where the path meets a track, turn left and follow this track south. This is now on the Cowal and Loch Lomond Way and I followed it as far as Glenbranter. I peeled off here to walk down the track along the west shore of Loch Eck. It emerges at Benmore botanical gardens (which are well worth visiting) and the trail to Puck's Glen starts opposite the gardens visitor centre.
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