It was a beautiful, late autumn morning. There was barely a ripple on the surface of the loch and early sunbeams caught the reeds along the edge so they appeared alight. Wisps of mist hung above the water and were threaded through the lochside trees which were every shade of autumn - russets, golds and lingering greens. The only sound was the gentle gurgle of the little stream, running beside the bench I was sitting on. To get to this place on the shore of Craigallian Loch, I'd walked a couple of miles north on the West Highland Way path out of Milngavie. I'd come to see something very special that had been in my consciousness for a couple of years now. Something that had ignited wonder in my imagination since I first heard about it. I'd come to the Craigallian Fire memorial. Here's its story.
During the years of the Depression between the two World Wars, working class people from Glasgow escaped the city and their poverty by heading to the hills to the north, to the Campsie Fells and beyond. The first stopping point as they walked north, a place which they could reach after work (if they had a job), was the spot I was sitting at now on the shore of Craigallian Loch.
There was a fire kept burning here continuously between the wars and on into the Second World War, offering warmth, a cup of tea and companionship. Around the fire, stories would be exchanged of adventures on the hill. But the fireside chat also extended beyond climbing to socialist politics and land access. In those days, which seem barely a blink of an eye away, ordinary folk did not have the same rights of access that we enjoy now. These gatherings also spawned the early, working class climbing clubs such as Creag Dubh and Lomond. But most significantly of all, the pioneering spirits that came together at the Craigallian Fire are widely considered to have planted the first seed of our modern land reform which has led to the extensive freedom we enjoy in the hills today. The people that gathered round the fire were known as fire-sitters.
A beautiful, sculptured stone fire is placed as a memorial on the spot today. How wonderful it was that morning to sit at the "fire" and soak up the atmosphere. I marvelled at the fact that the stream gurgling beside me was the same one that the original fire-sitters would have collected water from for a brew. I tried to picture faces gathered round, flickering in the flames and their talk as red as their rosy cheeks. And I squinted my eyes to imagine another ragged walker with makeshift knapsack coming along the path. On a moonlit, cold winter's night they sought a cup of tea, friendly chat and a place to sleep. But mostly I sat quietly by the fire and paid my respects to those people who changed life for the better for ordinary folk.
As the morning was creeping on, I left the fire and pressed on northwards. I wanted to climb a little hill an hour or so further on that many of the fire-sitters must have climbed in their day - Dumgoyne. The West Highland Way path took me most of the way there as it passed through farms and woods. A grey, cold day had replaced the early sunshine.
At only 427m high, what Dumgoyne lacks in height, it makes up for in character. A volcanic plug, its steep slopes and crags are the dominant landscape feature hereabouts. As I pulled myself up the hill, the views that opened up were new to me - a different angle on Ben Lomond and Conic Hill, and the southern edge of the Trossachs. The view was murky but to the north there was a suggestion of snow-covered, bigger hills. I'd little time to enjoy it. I'd just made it to the summit boulder when the mist that had hung below the cliffs billowed in like dense smoke and engulfed the top of the hill.
I made my way back down, caught the next bus to Milngavie and the subsequent train home. But since this wee trip, I can't stop thinking about the fire and the fire-sitters. It's such a beautiful story and a little bit of history that has touched me deeply. I feel drawn back to the fire. One day I want to be that ragged walker coming along the path on a winter's night, seeking a place for the tent and a spot by the fire.
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Start/finish: Milngavie train station
Public transport: Train to Milngavie. Stagecoach bus from Dumgoyne Distillery back to Milngavie.
My route: From the train station followed signs to the high street and halfway along is the start of the West Highland Way - can't be missed as there are beautiful rusted panels depicting the highlights of the route. Followed the WHW north. The memorial is set in the trees at the side of the path beside Craigallian Loch. Left the WHW as it approached Dumgoyne Distillery, walked past the Distillery and took a tarmac track to the right that climbed passed some cottages then became dirt track. Round the edge of fancy gates and then passed in front of the higher cottage. Track crossed field and before the pine trees a grassy path heads off left and up Dumgoyne.
