Glen Finglas - Contrasting days

With hindsight, it was a terrible place to pitch the tents but the grassy knoll had been the only dry oasis in miles of bog and heather. Plus the forecast had said the winds would be light but instead they hammered through like a freight train, creating a vortex around the knoll and bending my tent inwards in an alarming fashion. It was 5am in the hills above Brig o'Turk and I was wondering if the tents would remain standing, never mind if I'd be able to cook breakfast in the blasts. But then something magical happened.

I'd been aware when I woke up during the night of there not being full darkness so guessed a decent moon must be up behind the clouds. Then a little before dawn, the winds eased off and I unzipped the tent door to poke my head outside. A stunning sight greeted me. The tents were facing west with an open view from the knoll to the shapely twin peaks of Ben More and Stob Binnein. Above the peaks was an incredibly bright full moon that shone gold rather than silver. Behind it was the thinnest veil of cloud that picked up the golden light of the moon and silhouetted the two peaks. Over the next half hour or so, the moon sank such that it looked like it was rolling down the side of Stob Binnein to set perfectly placed in the bealach between it and Ben More. It was a spectacular moment and the terrible camp spot became the perfect grandstand from which to watch it. 

Those overnight winds had cleared the cloud and dense drizzle of the day before when we'd walked in from Brig o'Turk. It hadn't been at all unpleasant as it created a secret, other-worldly atmosphere and we saw not another soul. The colours were monotone and there had been barely a breath of wind to shake the water droplets from the birch branches. 

But this second day was a real contrast with brash, bright colours in the cobalt sky, the straw-coloured hillsides and the hi-viz mountain-bikers. Our camp spot had been at the highest point on the Glen Finglas loop so while yesterday's walk was all climbing, today's was mostly downhill. 

The low winter sun cast a gentle golden light over the day in the same way the moon had over the night. It encouraged us to linger at the river and brew a second morning coffee before completing the walk out.

Fact File

Start/finish: Brig o'Turk
Public transport: No regular buses to the start but you can use Stirling Council's Demand Responsive Transport service. Alternatively, if you have time, you could take the regular bus from Stirling to Callander and use the Great Trossachs Path to walk to Brig o'Turk.
My route: Took the quiet road that passes through Brig o'Turk and heads uphill. It eventually becomes a dirt track where the public road ends. Passed farm buildings and took the track to the right signed for Balquhidder. Stayed on the track to make a big loop behind Meall Cala and return alongside the Finglas Water which is now bridged where the track crosses it.   

Dunkeld - Everything has changed

"Nothing has changed, except the thing that changes everything".    Adam Nicholson, The Sea Room

I love that quote. He is talking about the wild geese on the Shiant Islands off the west coast of Scotland and how their seasonal presence, or absence, transforms the whole character and atmosphere of the place. The quote was in my mind a few weeks back when I was in the hills beyond Dunkeld. My walk took me out passed Mill Dam, a pretty, tree-fringed loch that I must have visited a hundred times. But this time one thing had changed and that thing changed everything else. 

I was en route to a favourite wild camp spot which occupies a lonely place far beyond Mill Dam and the popular trails around Dunkeld. It's a long walk and on this occasion it was an arduous walk with a surface that varied between bog, water, hard snow, melting snow and ice. Also thrown in were some wind-felled trees that needed to be negotiated and a mid winter day that barely seemed to get light.

I was happy to reach my spot in the last of the light and throw up the tent. It's a perfect place with a patch of flat grass nestled among a small cluster of larch trees.  The landscape all around was snow-streaked and monochrome, and the frozen loch below my tent glowed ghostly pale in the fading light. When you are camping beside frozen lochs you often hear the creak and groan of the ice as the wind shifts it around but tonight there was barely a breeze and all was quiet. 

Lying in the tent, my mind drifted back to Mill Dam. With no wind it had been flat calm with a thin crust of ice further out. Autumn's colours had faded but there was still a purple haze of bare, winter birch trees and splashes of green in the rampant mosses and lichens. The woods climbed above the loch, cloaking the slopes of Deuchary Hill whose top disappeared into the low cloud. I sat on the usual bench on the shore and admired this usual scene. 

But then my eye was drawn to a number of felled birch trees lying half in the water, stripped of bark and with teeth marks down the length of the trunk. Then just beside my bench a small tree had gnawing marks a foot up its trunk. As I looked around I saw these signs everywhere. I felt a rising sense of excitement but also couldn't quite believe what I was seeing. This was the work of beavers! At that moment, their presence after hundreds of years of absence immediately changed the atmosphere of this place to something wilder, something more primal.

Beavers are native to Scotland but were hunted to extinction in the 16th century. In 2009, a trial reintroduction took place in Knapdale on the west coast. Around about the same time, beavers appeared on the River Tay on the east coast from an unofficial reintroduction. These Tay beavers are now obviously spreading and if they are in Mill Dam, they must have come up the Tay to Dunkeld and accessed the loch by a tributary. 

It's wonderful news because beavers really do change everything. They are known as nature's engineers. The dams that they build create new wetlands, increasing biodiversity by providing habitats for all sorts of insects, amphibians and fish which in turn support the birds and mammals that feed on them such as otters. These new wetlands also act as a natural filtration system, store water and mitigate downriver flooding because they slow the flow of water. As well as these practical benefits, beavers hark us back to a time when Scotland's wildlife was much more rich than today and their reintroduction is an important step in returning our nature to a more healthy state.

As they are nocturnal, I didn't actually see any beavers that day or the next day when I passed by Mill Dam again. But that didn't matter. It was enough just knowing they were out there, changing everything around them.

Speyside - Out of office

How wonderful it was to finish up for a week's holiday. With the rucsack packed and the train ticket booked, the final act of work was putting on the out of office reply. It was even better to be heading off in the shoulder season when the trails were quiet and the crowds of summer dissipated. So for my October week off, I chose to do a multi day walk from Carrbridge to Newtonmore. Much of the route I'd walked before but some of the trails would be new to me and either way, I had never walked the whole lot in one trip so I was looking forward to it.

Grey was the colour of much of the walk with a perpetual ceiling of low cloud and nights that were fair drawing in. But the weather was calm with no wind, no precipitation and only brief moments of sunshine. There was one such moment at the start of the walk at Carrbridge as a few rays penetrated the gloom hanging over the Cairngorms while I walked to Boat of Garten via the Carr Plantation. The dense commercial forestry added to the gloom as trees crowded in and so I was happy to leave it behind at Boat and continue through the native pine woods to Loch Garten. It was already dark as I skirted the loch shore looking for a flat spot for the tent.

From Loch Garten I followed the Speyside Way the following morning to Aviemore and was amazed how the open moor it once crossed was regenerating into dense forest. To my left the bulk of the northern Cairngorms rose into low cloud, a presence hinted at rather than seen. 

Popping out of the other side of Aviemore took me to the tree-fringed waters of Loch an Eilean and then onwards to a favourite camp spot deeper in the woods. A jay flew by, small birds twittered in the canpoy and two owls hooted in the evening darkness, one so loud that it must have been right above my tent.

The next day I continued walking along forest trails to Feshiebridge and then picked up a favourite path up the early part of the glen that follows the river through old birch trees. There was a quietness and stillness here far from human generated noise. The woods held some lingering autumn colour and a wild, boreal atmosphere. I wandered up the glen as far as the outflow of Coire Garbhlach, a giant gouge in the side of the hill sculpted by the river that drains the Moine Mhor, the vast plateau above. I pitched the tent close by in a small copse of pines whose canopy brought the darkness in even earlier. With not getting away last year at this time because of lockdown, I think I had forgotten how long the evenings are in the tent in early winter and that night I started the second reading of the small book I'd brought.

The next day was my favourite of the trip. I took a new trail (or new to me at least) from Glen Feshie over the hills towards Drumguish. This was a lovely walk, quiet and empty, and placed me in a good position for a climb up Croidh-la, a little hill rising above Gleann Chomraig. 

Here again were regenerating woods where miniature birch trees and pines grew free of the grasses. A thin path climbed the ridge of the hill and was really pleasing to walk. It gave lovely views down to Drumguish and the Spey Valley beyond. Then the sun broke through as I approached the top. It turned the early winter hills to shades of gold and burned off a little of the mist on the bigger tops to reveal a dusting of snow. As is often the way, this smaller, slightly detached hill afforded fantastic views of the bigger hills all around. 

Despite the sunshine, there was a bitter wind on top and I didn't linger long which proved to be lucky. The west face of Croidh-la drops almost sheer into Glen Tromie and as I descended a white-tailed eagle glided right by me on thermals pushed up by the steep hillside. I continued downwards as the sun began to dip and after a bit of hunting around found a nice camp spot beside the river with a view to the Feshie hills.

After a peaceful night, I packed up the tent for the last time on this trip and continued the walk to Drumguish then onto Kingussie via pleasant paths through more old birch forest. I left Kingussie out the back of town for a favourite walk to Netwonmore via Loch Gynack. I love the old woods here that fringe the loch and smother the path up Creag Bheag, the wee hill above town. I like the contrast of this walk too as it leaves the woods for a section of open moor before descending to Newtonmore and back into the woods.

I'd timed my route today to get the late train home so that I would finish my walk in the dark. I like dusk with its change in sounds and atmosphere. And I like to see how far I can walk into the darkness before having to switch on the headtorch to illuminate the path or tree roots or the gushing river below. Newtonmore was  dark, quiet and deserted. With the summer tourists gone and not enough snow yet for the ski season, it must also have had on its out of office reply.

Fact File

Start: Carrbridge railway station

Finish: Newtonmore railway station

Public transport: Glasgow/Edinburgh - Inverness trains

My route: From the train walked to Carrbridge village centre and turned right on the main road then took the first road out of the village to the left. After the houses end, a trail is signed for Boat of Garten to the right. Continued to far side of Boat and opposite where the Boat road joins the B970 is the trail to Loch Garten. Returned to Boat then took the offroad cycle route to Aviemore signed opposite the wee shop. From Aviemore walked up the ski road to Inverdruie then took the path from Inverdruie behind the field to Loch an Eilean then onto Lochan Gamhna. A rough path leaves the east shore of Lochan Gamhna and crosses the Allt Coire Follais twice to pick up forest trails to Feshiebridge. At Feshiebridge took the right of way signed up the west side of the river which eventually joins the road up Glen Feshie. Took the right of way signed for Drumguish via Baileguish. Forest tracks connect to Gleann Chomraig and the path up Croid-la. From Drumguish a new trail on the other side of the bridge heads to Ruthven Barracks then it's road walking for the final section into Kingussie. Walked up the road up Glen Gynack then path to Newtonmore and Creag Bheag is signed to the left. This path eventually joins the Wildcat Trail which I followed into Newtonmore via the lower reaches of Glen Banchor.

 

Argyll - Wherever I lay my tent, that's my home

I have to admit that I have pitched my tent in some unusual places over the years but this is mostly when I'm abroad and get caught out late in the day in unfamiliar territory. However, a recent cycling trip here in Scotland ended up with a strange camp spot at the end of the first day!

We'd cycled up from Connel on the fabulous bike route to Ballachulish which is part of the Caledonia Way. Using mostly dedicated cycle paths on the disused railway line, it's always a real treat to ride it with no traffic and fabulous views. At this time of year the autumn colours were lovely too and the hawthorns heavy with red berries. 

Our favourite spot on the route is near Appin where we pass close to the stunning Castle Stalker. The castle was built around the mid 13th century for the Lord of Lorn but changed hands many times before being abandoned by the Campbells in 1800 after which it fell into disrepair. However it was restored in the 1960s so is now fully habitable and open to visitors. It's a beautiful sight, cut off by the sea at high tide and framed by the rugged Morvern hills.

Eventually our bike path arrived in Ballachulish at the platform of the old train station. We had tried to contact campsites in the area but without any luck and couldn't stay with a friend here as they were self-isolating. So the only thing for it was to pitch the tents in the old Ballachulish slate quarry! That might not sound very nice but the quarry has been out of use since 1955 and the area has grown up with a variety of trees and bushes. Some of the quarry has filled with water, so it's a real wildlife haven as well as a lovely walk. There was also a little shelter for cooking out of the rain and 24-hour toilets close by at the Co-op. We did wait until after dark before pitching the tents!

The quarry is actually a fascinating walk in day time. It opened in 1693 and the slate was shipped across the country for roofing and building. At its peak in 1845, it produced 26 million Ballachulish slates. Ballachulish slate had one drawback though compared to its competitors in that it contained iron pyrite crystals which caused rust spots and holes when exposed to the weather. So only the best slates could be used for roofing.

After our unusual night camping in the quarry, we cycled back down the bike route, staying out for a second night at a more conventional pitch in woods by the sea. 

Fact File

Start/finish: Connel train station
Public transport: Trains to Connel
Route: Out of the train station follow cycle route signs in the direction of Fort William. To visit the slate quarries, don't cross the Ballachulish bridge but continue on the cycle path adjacent to the road towards Glen Coe. The quarry is behind the Co-op in Ballachulish. 
Info: There is a nice walk around the old quarry with information signs. 

Loch Leven - Wild goose chase

One of the most beautiful natural events of the year is the autumn arrival of the over-wintering geese. I can think of few things as evocative of the wild as a sky full of skeins of geese filling the air with their trumpeting calls. I always try to get away to Montrose Basin or Loch Leven to savour the spectacle and this year it was a short overnight trip to Loch Leven. 

Having sat out heavy rain until late afternoon, my friend Graham and I walked the loch-side trail before climbing steeply through the birch trees of Vane Hill. The woods here were filled with robin song and droplets of rain hung from autumn berries. Eventually we cleared the trees and pulled up onto the top of the hill. It was chilly and breezy up here but would be our camp spot for the night.

Loch Leven stretched out below, dotted with wooded islands, and the craggy ridge of Benarty Hill stretched westwards behind us. Everything else was obscured by low cloud that cascaded over the flanks of Bishop Hill. Darkness was approaching as we pitched the tents and as we cooked supper, twinkling street lights below marked each of the villages around the loch. The distant voices of thousands of geese drifted up to our camp spot and sent us off to sleep.

Next morning before dawn, we picked our way back down through the woods by torchlight and settled ourselves by the loch-side to make coffee and eat breakfast before the morning take off by the geese.

Over the next couple of hours, huge flocks of geese rose one after the other looking like black clouds of giant insects. Straggly skeins of geese crossed the sky, their underwings catching the morning sun as it broke through the mist. And wave after wave of geese came over the hills to the north so that at times the sky in one direction was just full with geese. It was truly spectacular and deeply moving to be here this morning.

Eventually the activity dwindled and the sun began to gently warm the day. All was quiet and it was hard to believe the spectacle that we had just witnessed.

Fact File
The Loch Leven Heritage Trail and Vane Hill can be accessed by train from Lochgelly by walking to Ballingry and using the path that connects Ballingry to the RSPB centre at Vane Farm; or by bus to Kinross and using the trail to walk to Vane Farm. The RSPB centre has toilets, hides and a cafe with a panoramic window looking over the reserve. Between the RSPB centre and Kinross is a shelter on a rise that gives great views over the loch and surrounding hills.

Kinross-shire - Seasonal affective disorder

I'm sorry that the blog has been a bit sparse over the summer months but I have not been doing very much. You see, I have seasonal affective disorder or rather, I have REVERSE seasonal affective disorder since it's summer that makes me miserable! I can't bear the heat, the crowds, the midges and, this summer at least, the endless days of sunshine which drive me up the wall. But it looks like summer is finally on the wane and I've broken my duck with a wonderful mini cycle tour in Kinross-shire. 

My friend Graham and I set out cycling from Kinross, using the Loch Leven Heritage Trail to get started. We only stayed on it for a short while though before turning off onto a delightful, single track road that hugged the bottom of the Lomonds escarpment all the way to Strathmiglo. The Lomond Hills show their best side to the north with steep, sweeping flanks and sheer, rocky crags. I find them quite beautiful. It's something about the way they dominate their landscape and how their ramparts rise with such drama from the patchwork of fields around them. And there is something elemental about their relationship with the wild waters of Loch Leven.

A detour from our route at Strathmiglo to hunt for coffee paid dividends. The cycle route used a lovely traffic free bike path that meandered through woods, fields and finally tall, aromatic pines to emerge at the Pillars of Hercules organic farm and cafe, just outside Falkland. It was no hardship to repeat the route back to Strathmiglo, except perhaps for the climb that came as a surprise in an otherwise flat section. 

We were to spend the rest of the afternoon climbing as we cycled up through Abernethy Glen. At the top of the pass, we pulled off the road and onto the woodland trails of Pitmedden Forest. We were surprised how busy it was and I hadn't realised it's such a popular place for mountain bikers. But we had started the day late so by the time we had filtered water and cycled on into the forest, most folk were heading home for their tea and we pretty much had the place to ourselves.

We cycled east on a dirt track that hugged the spine of the hill, scouting as we went for potential camp spots. Eventually we found a lovely spot on the top of the ridge with open views all around. To the south, the twin peaks of the Lomond Hills rose above a rolling landscape of woods and farms. To the north, the River Tay retreated into the murky weather engulfing the Perthshire hills but to the west the Ochils were clear and we watched their silently rotating wind turbines. Down below we picked out the meandering waters of the River Earn and a train cutting across the fields that looked so tiny within this big view. 

The murky weather soon caught us too with light showers of rain that put us into our tents for the evening. But this was a fabulous camp spot nonetheless and it didn't disappoint the next morning either. Sunrise cast a purple glow over the Lomonds and illuminated the grasses and tree trunks of the forest so that they looked on fire.

When the dazzling display of the sunrise was over and breakfast eaten, we packed up our tents and had a lovely, early morning descent back along the forest track. It was that time of the day when the light is still soft and the rest of the world is not yet woken up. Back on the tarmac road and the steep descent to Glenfoot certainly woke us up. 

From Glenfoot we cycled on tiny, quiet roads that dovetailed with the motorway back to Kinross. A couple of tough climbs on these little roads took us by surprise before we reached the village of Glenfarg where the route levelled. The road from Glenfarg to Milnathort via Duncrievie and Netherton was sheer joy. There was barely any traffic and the road stayed high but flat affording big views, open skies and great cycling. Soon Loch Leven came into view again nestling below the steep flanks of Bishop Hill and the long ridge of Benarty.

Our road drifted gently down to Milnathort, passing under the motorway and entering the village through delightful narrow lanes. This was our final stop on this mini tour and a chance to indulge in coffee and cake which I'm sure is good for treating seasonal affective disorder.  

Fact File

Start/finish: Kinross
Public transport: Given the Sunday rail strikes we used my friend's car on this occasion. However, Kinross is served by Citylink and local buses plus this route could be done by train from Lochgelly from where it's a short cycle to join the Loch Leven Heritage Trail at Findatie or the RSPB centre.
My route: Joined Loch Leven Heritage Trail at Kinross and followed national cycle route number 1 to Strathmiglo and Falkland. Returned to Strathmiglo and cycled north from there through Abernethy Glen. You can cycle through Stocks Wynd off the main street in Strathmiglo to join the Abernethy Glen road without having to use the A91 or A912. Pitmedden Forest is signed at the top of the pass. Descended to Glenfoot and joined bike path heading west beside the A913. Where it meets a roundabout there are then cycle signs pointing the route to Glenfarg and onto Milnathort/Kinross using quiet, unclassified roads.
Info: Great coffee stop at the Pillars of Hercules which is on the cycle route into Falkland and also has a dedicated cyclist campsite. Also a good coffee stop and cyclist area at the back at Heaven Scent in Milnathort.

Perthshire - The Birks of Aberfeldy

This was a short overnighter in the hills wrapped around other events and bookended by the beautiful Birks. It started on a hot afternoon as we sweated our way up the lush, wooded gorge of the Birks, grateful to pause at waterfalls and interesting fungi.

From the Birks, we struck out across the bleak Urlar grouse moors. A smattering of trees in the lower reaches of the glen provided interest and a tin-roofed hut provided a back rest for a chocolate stop. 

Before too long we were hunting for a camp spot and a grass shelf by the river provided the only suitable place for miles to pitch our tents. In the evening the sound of light rain on nylon added to the gentle gurgle of the river. 

Next day our track climbed to meet the summer hill road between Amulree and Kenmore. Here swirling clouds were a backdrop to the photogenic hut on the loch shore.

From here, a series of interconnecting paths and tracks took us back to the Birks through woodlands, plantations and open pastures. 

It was wonderful on the way back to follow the river down the gorge and eventually pop out at the Watermill Cafe, since surely the main reason for doing hiking is to make space for cake at the end.

 

Fact File
Start/finish: Aberfeldy
Public transport: Buses from Dunkeld and Pitlochry connect to the Inverness train line.
My route: Followed the footpath signed the Birks of Aberfeldy from the village centre, sticking to the west side of the gorge. Where it met the bridge over the Falls of Moness, took the footpath that continued on the west side and met the Urlar Road. Followed this road uphill, detouring to the left around the farm at Urlar. After here it was dirt track which we followed to Amulree-Kenmore road and turned right downhill. At the first cottage a track leaves the road on the right. This is now the Rob Roy Way and we followed it back to Aberfeldy, this time coming back down the east side of the Birks gorge.