The Trossachs - Riding the rails

Meandering north from Callander and flirting with the edges of Loch Lomond and the Trossachs National Park, is a wee gem of a cycle ride. It forms part of National Cycle Network route 7 and for much of the way follows the bed of the old Callander to Oban railway line. It's a real tragedy that we lost so many of these spectacular rail routes in Scotland, but at least you can still enjoy many of the old lines today by boot or bike. It was by bike that I explored this route a few days ago and, as most of it is wrapped up in woods, it was a perfect place at the end of October to catch autumn's swansong.

There is no railway line serving Callander these days, so my friend Graham and I rode the rails to Bridge of Allan and picked our way to Callander along rural back roads. The old railway line left Callander on a track through the woods carpeted with golden leaves and that's the way we cycled.

Morning rain cleared and weak sunshine drenched the woods in subtle autumn light.

The branches of this oak tree hung over the Falls of Leny which were swollen by the torrential rain of the last few days. This is one section where the bed of the old railway line is lost so the bike route here followed a woodland footpath that twists through the forest alongside the deafening rumble of the water.

North of the Pass of Leny, we rejoined the route of the old railway as it passed along the quiet west shore of Loch Lubnaig. The low afternoon sun didn't clear the top of Ben Ledi above, keeping us in chilly shade while the other shore was a blaze of colour and light.

The recent rains had flooded most of the valley and raised the loch waters, stranding this lone tree.

We cycled into Strathyre which was once a station on the old line and then picked up a section of brand new cycle path. It uses the old railway line to connect Strathyre directly with Kingshouse, cutting out the original big detour for bicycles via Balquidder. It's quite a low-lying section and on this trip, some of it was under water!

As we approached Kingshouse, the sun rounded the corner of Ben Sheann and cast a soft light over the swollen waters of Loch Voil and the flat top of Stob Binnein to the west.

Trailside bracken had a full spectrum of colour from green to yellow to brown.

You may think that a cycle route that follows an old railway line would be flat. Not this one! At Lochearnhead the route makes a big zig-zagging climb above the village. The reward is a great view along Loch Earn and more gorgeous autumn woods.

The route continues to climb up through Glen Ogle to the most iconic part of the old railway, the Glen Ogle Viaduct, and then on to the top of the pass.

This cycle route mixes asphalt with dirt trails and so it was a perfect test for my new trail bike, the Specialised Ariel Elite. The Ariel is designed as the "go anywhere" bike, equally at home on or off road. I was really happy with its performance and handling, and especially loved the smoooth braking power of the disc brakes in the wet and muddy conditions. And doesn't it just look lovely as well?

Near the top of the route a huge thorn somehow found its way through Graham's tire and there was a puncture to fix. It would have to be the rear one of course.

The day ended with a wild camp at the top of the pass. The gaps in the trees were windows to spectacular star-gazing on a cold, clear night. Next morning the camp site was visited by a robin who sang his sweet song above the tents as we packed for the cycle back to Callander and on to Bridge of Allan to catch the train home.

Fact File
Start/finish: Bridge of Allan (or Callander if you're not using the train).
Maps: OS Landranger 57 and 51 or Sustrans National Cycle Route 7 Lochs and Glens North.
Route: From the rail station in Bridge of Allan turn west on the main road then take the first left onto a farm road signed for Carse of Lecropt. Follow this delightful single track road which has some lovely views to the B824 and then into Doune. From there take the deserted B8032 towards Callander which joins the A81 (quiet). From Callander it's all pretty easy, just follow the signs for National Cycle Route 7 in the northerly direction. Until recently route 7 out of Strathyre followed the back road to Balquidder, a big detour. A new bike path now makes a direct link to Kingshouse. To pick it up, as you come into Strathyre from the forest road, follow the bike signs for the village centre, keep going straight and you'll find yourself on the new route.
Tip: We camped beside Lochan Lairig Cheile at the top of Glen Ogle. There are good spots in the trees if you follow the forest track to the left as you approach the loch.

Loch Lubnaig - Waters of the wild swan

The mountains, woods and waterways around Loch Lubnaig are the territory of my favourite nature writer, Jim Crumley.  In his writing Jim conveys a deep connection with the landscape and the wildlife that inhabits it. He somehow captures the beauty and detail of the nature and elements around him in a way that creates a magical, other-worldly atmosphere and I'm immediately transported to the places he describes.  One moment I might be lazing against a drystane dyke scanning the sky for golden eagles and the next moment crouching in dusktime woods watching badgers.

Within his writer’s territory, in the quiet bays of Loch Lubnaig, there has lived for many years a pair of mute swans and Jim has recorded the trials and tribulations of their life in his books. It’s a challenging place for those swans to live and raise a family, being isolated from other swan communities in an area that is subject to devastating spring floods which time and again wipe out nests and eggs. The story of this pair of swans is truly moving at times as Jim records the good years when they hatch one cygnet and the bad years when they hatch none. Mostly, they are bad years. I really wanted to explore the area and wildlife that I‘d read so much about in Jim’s books and decided the best way to get out into the watery world of the swans was by canoe.

My journey started on the River Balvaig at Strathyre on a gorgeous summer morning when mirror-like waters reflected mountains, blue sky and puffy, white  clouds. The shallows were warm as I stepped into the canoe and pushed off from the bank. The river meandered lazily south through a dense corridor of ash, alder and birch. The branches of rowan trees, weighted down by clusters of ripe, red berries, trailed in the deep, dark water. The scene was so green and lush that I easily imagined I was drifting down through the tropical jungles of the Amazon, along uncharted waters, in search of un-contacted tribes. The image was completed when two flashes of dazzling colour flew through the overhanging branches on the opposite bank – not parrots but kingfishers!

At some point river became loch and I paddled through shallow bays clogged with summer water-lilies and reed beds. At that moment, it was hard to imagine anything more perfect. The delightful aspect about being out in the canoe, especially tracking down the river, is that you feel completely detached from the outside world. It’s as if nothing exists except the ribbon of water that you’re travelling along. The feeling is enhanced by the fact that in the canoe you can get to the quiet places and the secret spots that nobody else can. 

As I paddled along, shoals of tiny fish darted around in the shallows and dragonfly couples formed ampersand-shaped clutches as they mated above the surface.  Two herons flapped clumsily overhead, making their characteristic tuneless croak, and a pair of Canada geese honked further out on the water. But of the mute swan pair, there was no sign.

As the day wore on, I paddled out into the deeper waters of the loch as a keen breeze blew in grey cloud and threw up choppy waves that made this novice canoeist a bit nervous. As I was concentrating on the conditions, I didn’t realise that the wild landscape behind me had undergone a subtle change. With an evening bus to catch home, I turned the boat around late afternoon to paddle back up-river. It was only then that I noticed the reed beds had acquired two long-necked, white shapes. The mute swan pair had finally made an appearance. But they weren’t alone. Behind them trailed four long-necked, grey shapes. 

Jim will be pleased, I thought. This is a good year. A very good year.

Fact File

Yes that’s a new canoe … full review to follow!

Start/finish: Strathyre, north of Callander. The summer season Edinburgh-Oban Citylink bus stops at Strathyre. Out of summer, you’d be lucky to make a weekend of it in Strathyre by public transport!
Map: OS Landranger 57

Route: Behind the picnic spot at the village shop walk south on the bike path which soon crosses the River Balvaig by a wooden bridge. There are put-in places here. There are minor rapids just beyond but the water was so low here I just floated the canoe around them. There is also a spot in the campsite with a ramp which is good for getting back out before the rapids. The River Balvaig on my visit was mostly deep, slow, free of obstructions and easy paddling downriver and upriver. It flows into the north end of Loch Lubnaig where there are sheltered bays as well as open water.
Tip: For nature lovers I’d highly recommend Jim Crumley’s books. The two about the swans are “In the Company of Swans” and “Waters of the Wild Swan”, though my favourite book is the magical "Something Out There". He also writes a monthly column for the Scots Magazine which is the main reason I brave ridicule by friends to buy it.