Collected Musings of a Hill Wanderer

Sometimes, it’s just very hard to get oneself home from a very beautiful location and, if the weather’s being very exceptional, then it’s so much harder. That’s how it felt on leaving Oban to head south again on the bank holiday Monday. Add to that the feeling that I had I had not made the most of what had been granted to me and a certain heaviness of heart results. I did have some good walking in that tramp from Inverarnan to Dalmally and the views that I encountered on my Sunday ambling were superb but it’s amazing what perfect weather does to you.

That maelstrom going on in my mind caused me to leave Oban early to allow a stop in Taynuilt to savour a bit more of the area before I completely left it. I planned a two hour stopover and a stroll in the general direction of Glen Noe on the shore of Loch Etive got me as far as Inverawe Country Park. If I had alloted more time, then I might have reached Glen Noe and made the journey to Glasgow smoother than was the case.

My plan was to go to Glasgow via Tyndrum and that’s what I did. A change of coach was needed in Tyndrum and it’s here where things started to unravel; the onward connection was full and couldn’t carry me. It’s being the 11:00 from Fort William on a sunny bank holiday easily explained what happened and I suppose that I should have thought of that. That left me with next to two hours to spend and I didn’t waste a minute by wandering over and back along the West Highland Way. The Crianlarich hills appeared so beguiling that they thwarted any notions of catching the 14:00 train to Glasgow Queen Street.

Like a cat with nine lives, I was left with other options. Chief among these was the 14:20 Citylink service but that didn’t arrive because of a problem with the vehicle. It was cutting things a bit fine but the 15:20 would have conveyed me to Glasgow with plenty of time left to catch the first train on a southbound railway relay that would have got me to Macclesfield at a not insensible time. However, the bank holiday jinx struck again with heavy traffic on the A82 north of the Balloch roundabout putting paid to that idea. It is little wonder that a campaign to upgrade the said road is under way.

Nevertheless, I discovered a late evening service that would get me all of the way to Manchester. There was a wait before it departed so I enjoyed the evening sunshine in George Square before setting off. Once in Manchester, I made my way to its airport and picked up a reasonably priced taxi home from there. My arrival time was much later than intended but I was home anyway and enjoyed some snatched opportunities to savour more of Scotland’s wilder country at its best. I had left wanting more, never a bad thing.

All in all, this was a return journey that was anything but smooth. It was almost as if Scotland was using everything in its power to hang onto me: fantastic weather, wonderful countryside and a busy transport system. I have been left wondering if a better plan for any bank holiday excursion to Scotland would be to add a day off to the break and use that to return home. The traffic should be lighter and I might even enjoy an extra day’s walking in brilliant sunshine while everyone else is stuck in the traffic.

It’s been a while coming but here’s the second part of the trip report for that weekend spent around Argyll at the end of May. The lengthy walk from Inverarnan to Dalmally meant that getting a rest on Saturday evening took more priority than planning where I was going on the day after so that had to wait. Anyway, two days of lengthy walks back to back might have too much even if I got every encouragement from the weather; it couldn’t have been more marvellous. The day after was just as good and left me kicking myself for not taking a day off from work to stay longer. That made me snatch every opportunity available on the way home and that’s for the next installation of the trip report. Sunday was to be an easier day.

So after getting a few things that needed doing out of the way, the day was clear for walking once I had decided where to go. With Sunday public transport and my exertions the day before, I was left in a quandary but ended up plumping for Kerrera. Even if I might have felt that I wasn’t making the most of the sunny weather, it was no mistake. I had been there before, on a sodden soggy Friday in November 2002. That time, I did catch it in a dry interlude but it just didn’t compare with the way that I found it this time around. The way there was the same as before: a one or two mile walk out of Oban and a short ferry ride across the Sound of Kerrera to the island. The obvious thing to have done was to repeat the circular walk around the south of the island but I was more mindful of time on this occasion. What happened was that I went for a more freestyle wander around the middle of the island, taking the opportunity to savour the views all around me.

Kerrera’s position does give it countless advantages when it comes to seeing what surrounds it. The highest point of the island may not exceed 200 metres above sea level but it really does punch above its weight on the scenery stakes. It really came as surprise to me that you could see inland as far as Ben Cruachan and that’s near Tyndrum and Dalmally! looking seaward, Mull does not loom as much in the vistas as you might think but, rather, it’s parts of the mainland like Morvern, Ardgour, Sunart and Ardnamurchan that really supply the main mountainous backdrop to the seascapes filling the senses. Those views really were more noteworthy than the freestyle wandering that I did, I ended up near the summit of Barr Dubh at one point on my visit. Otherwise, it was a case of following tracks for parts of their lengths.

I made for the 17:00 ferry. It didn’t leave on time thanks to the ferryman, a laid back character by all accounts, being engrossed in conversation. £4.50 was the return fair to be paid on the way back; it was £3 when I last used it. Once returned safely to the mainland after a short crossing on undulating seas, I plumped for a different course to Oban. Instead of the road, I set off on a right of way that took me through fields and along tracks on what was very much a glorious evening. In the meantime, the Kerrera continue to ply its way at times needed by day visitors to the island rather than any timetable. I suspect that he stopped at 18:00 but it was a welcome sight in this age of command and control.

I ended up on Pulpit Hill before making my way back to my accommodation. Ben Cruachan could be seen here too and I think that it might offer the best views over Oban too. If my memory serves me correct, I think that I was actually looking down on McCaig’s Tower. That November did see me up around the folly, revelling in the only sunshine to be found during the whole time. That was another Sunday and I left Oban in deteriorating weather conditions.

There was to be more to my walking that day than an over and back journey to Kerrera. A certain pattern of wandering were the mood took me had been developing all day it really showed its colours when I went out again to take in the delights of what remained of the evening. That ambling took me along Oban’s Esplanade and I continued out the Ganavan road until I picked up a path towards Dunollie Beg and kept pottering from path to path until I found myself next to the strand at Ganavan after all. I continued a bit further up the coast before turning around and heady back along the road to Oban and my bed for the night, ending a day that might have been taken up with gentler explorations. There are times when that is needed too.

For various reasons and a variety of journeys, I have happened on Oban on a good number of my trips to Scotland. Unlike either Fort William or Kinlochleven, it is not immediately surrounded by hill country and so might seem a surprising destination for a hill wanderer. However, its plentiful supply of accommodation and decent transport connections very much work in its favour as a base for exploring Lorn and any nearby islands.

Casting my mind back over the numerous trips that had me frequenting the place, the thing that strikes me is how I made something of the opportunities that basing myself there given that they aren’t exactly on its doorstep. Of course, the internet helps with planning but it is hardly a substitute for going somewhere in person and just skimming the surface to get a feel for what might be there. After all, I have often found that ideas for future visits come from trips that I have been making. For example, my most recent outing to the Lake District bore that out when I came home with more walking ideas than I would have had if I never went walking from Borrowdale into Great Langdale. It’s great that you can hardly ever run out of places to see and explore, even on an island the size of Great Britain.

When I first wandered into Oban on a day trip from Edinburgh in June of 1999, I was very much in skimming the surface mode. That day, I was heading off on a day excursion to Mull of my own making and saw enough that I liked to nearly make visits to Lorn and Mull an annual occurrence since then. There been years where my attention lay elsewhere (2000, 2006 & 2007) but I always seem to be able to make a return to sample more of what the area has to offer.

There were actually two trips in ‘99 with the second one being made with my brother. In both cases and also for a trip in ‘01, Oban acted as a staging post for Mull and Iona, something that it does very well. An inclement weekend in November ‘02 saw me walking on the island of Kerrera and by Loch Etive with friends from Edinburgh. In July ‘03, I managed to avoid the rain and even catch some sun on walks that took from Oban to Taynuilt via Glen Lonan and then from Taynuilt up the shore of Loch Etive to Glen Kinglass and back again. I snatched a drier interlude in July of ‘04 to hike from Oban to Taynuilt (again via Glen Lonan) and then up the shore of Loch Etive in showery weather that allowed the hills to show their dramatic side. Deeper incursions into hill country occupied me on a wonderful weekend in June of ‘05 with Mull and Loch Etive behaving as muses yet again. The quality of the walking was such that, if I did it now, there might have been two trip reports on this blog afterwards. Summing up the trekking in a few lines just doesn’t seem to do a great amount of justice so a retrospective posting might be the way to go. As it happens, it surprises me that my hillwalking attention drifted to other parts after that but it did and it was May of this year before I found myself back in Oban again. You may already have seen my telling of the first part of that adventure and the second part has spawned this piece, delaying its appearance in the process.

In that quick potted history, Mull turns up more than once. My initial visit to the island saw me perambulating along roads and tracks on its eastern side. I ended up walking from Craignure to Duart Point and back. Along the way, I crossed both Duart Castle and Torosay Castle. the day started off cloudy and, like so many Scottish days, got better and better as it wore on. The result was memorable views up Loch Linnhe from Duart Point and the castle looked splendid too. In August of the same year, I returned with my brother on an organised day excursion to Iona. I wouldn’t be surprised if he came away with a wrong impression of the islands because neither Mull nor Iona were looking far from their best in the murk and rain. Two years later, I had better luck with the weather when I dropped in on Tobermory. Cloud may have rolled in as the day went on, but I got enough sun on the ferry ride and when I first reached the said town to satisfy me. I did a spot of road ambling that day rather than proper hill wandering. That was left until a trip nearly four years later when I crossed the island from Salen and picked up a hill track that took me past Loch Ba and into Glen Camel. The right of way continued on for Glen More but I had a ferry to catch and so retraced my steps.

Loch Etive is another name that crops up a fair bit when I think of my explorations of north Argyll. That first visit under grumpy skies in November ‘02 exposed me to the sight of the hills lining both its shores and Glen Etive. In fact, you could say that you are seeing all the way up towards Glen Coe. That first stroll took us from Taynuilt to Glen Noe by way of Bonawe Furnace and Inverawe Country Park with a scary bridge crossing over the River Awe that I have made a number of times since. The outing was enough to whet my appetite and I returned the next summer and got up beyond Glen Kinglass before turning back, catching another side of the Ben Cruachan massif along the away. The route that I had taken was identical to that followed in November; I just continued on further and without any navigational blunders. Speaking of blunders, I did make one: I left Oban thinking that I had more camera film than I did only to end up rationing it later. My next encounter with the sea loch was on a lengthy tramp from Loch Awe station to Taynuilt. My route took me up Glen Strae, over Lairig Dhoireann, down Glen Kinglass and along Loch Etive again. I started it later than I should have done so a taxi was needed to get me back to Oban afterwards. Nevertheless, what started out showery in Glen Strae, turned glorious in Glen Kinglass and memorable along Loch Etive. Speaking of memorable exploits, a two day hike from Taynuilt to Kingshouse at the head of Glen Coe beckons. For now, that’s for the future and will need me to abandon my usual overnighting habits to use a bothy at the end of Glen Etive. I could what seems on paper to be an epic walk from Oban if I wanted, following the quiet road through Glen Lonan that I have done on a number of occasions. It’s good to have possibilities in mind.

Even with all my visits, North Argyll still has more to offer my love of hill wandering and Oban may even see me again. Now that I have got the history shared between us out of the way, it’s about time that part two of that report on my most recent stay in the area made its appearance here. I’ll need to get on with it, then…

Apart from Kershader, which is owned by Co-chomunn Na Parc, most of the hostels in the Western Isles are owned by the Gatliff Hebridean Hostels Trust. The trust’s website is well worth a look as it does more than introduce the hostels and tell us about its intriguing (to me, anyway) history. In fact, the website is almost as good an introduction to the islands as any, even if some sections might need a spot of updating and that can happen anyone. There are four hostels and each is situated a little away from the beaten track, never a bad thing. Advance bookings are not on offer but you shouldn’t be out of luck as regards a bed for the night, given their locations, and they are unlike many SYHA hostels in that they are open all year around. The tariffs are very reasonable too and, with the wardens being locals, you are contributing to the local community as well.

When I buy a pair of walking boots, a number of months elapse before I take them out on a full day’s walking. While trail shoes might suffice for a lot of my trips, I tend to prefer boots for their better ability to keep out mud and water. With boots, there’s always the risk of ending up with the "stiff and stout" variety because so many are like that. In fact, conventional wisdom is that strong supportive footwear is what is needed for traversing hill country and mentioning the idea of using flexible footwear could result in a tide of disapproval heading in your direction. Solid ankle support and stiff footbeds are very much part of this usual line of thought.

While my Scarpas very much fit in with convention, I am inclined to wonder I need quiet as much ankle support as they provide. Their predecessors were similar in this regard and their ankle cuffs gave me grief on a walk in North Wales one evening, an experience that taught me a lot; a back up pair of Columbia trail shoes were extricated from my rucksack so that relief could be provided. I usually don’t seem to have trouble with how boots fit my feet but its my experience with ankle cuffs that taught me that a good run in period is in order and that’s what I have been doing with my Scarpas since the longer evenings came upon us. The boots seem to doing OK but I am not planning to use them on all day walks straight away but am pondering taking them on half day hikes instead; taking them out in the Derbyshire Dales has come to mind. Whatever happens, I shall be keeping an eye on those ankle cuffs as well as doing more work on my lacing so that my feet are held in them that bit more securely.

Even with all this preparation of the Scarpas for use as my main pair of walking boots, I am beginning to think ahead to the future and what I really need in a pair of walking boots. An ability to take the rough stuff and keeping out water, mud and such like is all very fine but fit has to be a major consideration. This is why I am challenging the idea of high and somewhat less flexible ankle cuffs. It might be that I include that need on my list should I need a new pair of boots in the future. Another notion is percolating into my mind too: having different boots for different types of walking. The Scarpas could remain in use for rougher terrain while a lighter pair of boots, that are quicker to break in, would do a trek along good tracks and paths, keeping feet dry along the way. Along with the fit and comfort side of things, there are other advantages to having two pairs of boots such as spreading the wear across both, making them last longer, and having a dry pair ready after the other has been used on a hike through waterlogged terrain. With all the other demands on my income, I am not planning to rush out and buy anything just yet but there is enough going for the idea that it might take hold sometime.

For one reason or another, this past June has involved me pondering hill wandering treks rather than doing very many of them. That still means ideas for the blog but having them is one thing but making something out of them is yet another. In fact, an idea can transform into something very different on its execution. For instance, I still have do another part of my Argyll trip report for May and that has spawned thoughts of walking that I have done while on excursions based in Oban, an idea for another post. Then, there are thoughts of places where I haven’t visited for a while and those that I have yet to reach. Among the latter are the Western Isles (otherwise known as the Outer Hebrides or Na hEileanan an Iar) and the prospect of spending some time there this summer has prompted another idea for a posting on here. It’s amazing what can come from meandering through the countryside in the mind whilst comfortably seated in one’s armchair. Even so, I really need to get out in the countryside for real rather than using the virtual reality opportunities of the theatre of the skull. Hopefully, July will offer some chances.

The prospect of seeing something new has often been a great motivator for me when it comes to enjoying the outdoors. The sunny weather on Monday had me out and about locally only for me to discover a reservoir within the town of Macclesfield that I didn’t even know was there; I have been living around these parts for eight years and I still keep finding new things. Speaking of discoveries, I made one yesterday that I’d rather have not seen: a manifestation of the Internet Explorer "peekaboo" bug on my new thumbnail gallery pages. Some of the image caption text wasn’t being displayed and last night’s being dull allowed for a night in to quash the thing after a combination of googling and tinkering. Being a Linux and Firefox user, I suppose that I slipped up on my IE testing but that’s another reminder of an old lesson. Anyway, all’s well now and my mind is again free to turn its attention out of doors, opportunities allowing.

I mentioned at the end of April that the photo gallery was to get a new PHP/MySQL "engine". However, the fine May saw to it that I did a lot of walking rather than finishing it off. In fact, it was this past weekend when the weather was in a less clement mood that I managed to finalise things and let it loose on the public. There may be some spots of roughness remaining with the new underpinnings but I’ll be making any refinements that are needed. In any case, it should be a lot smoother than the previous Perl/PHP/XML edifice that served me well for so long.

It’s amazing how some months fly by you and others go slower than you would like. I have come to like the passing of the winter solstice because it heralds what I think to be the best part of the year for wandering through the countryside. Yes, the trees may be as bare as the landscape that surrounds them for what seems like eons but that has its attractions too. The summertime hoards are but a brief memory and there are ample opportunities for life detoxification in those wide open spaces. Those months before the greenery makes its appointed appearance allow you clear your mental clutter in time for when the countryside is clothed in a most wonderful lusciousness. For me, May and June should be the holiday months rather than July and August. The current arrangement means that year is slightly past its best when most have time to savour it but it also might mean that places are less crowded for connoisseurs of such wonders.

That curious timing of the summer holiday season brings me to my thoughts on the summer solstice. If its winter counterpart is a reminder of all that is wondrous, the longest day of the year is all the poorer for its pointing out that the only way from here is down. True, the colours of the countryside in autumn can be staggeringly beautiful but the whole feeling of decline and the passing of yet another year means that you need to work harder to keep up that interest in hill wandering. Apart from those colours, that decline has its uses, though, and you need only need to encounter an overgrown public footpath (I have been on a good few in north Wales…) to realise the benefits of winter’s chill. Anyway, without all the dying off that happens in the second half of the year, all the growth of the first would never seem so wonderful. Speaking of spring, the longest day of the year is also an impertinent reminder of what you have and haven’t been doing with regard to appreciating nature over the previous months. If you have been too busy to enjoy spring, then it’s a rearguard campaign to savour the countryside at next to its best before it’s too late and you feel that another year is gone out of your life without your making the best of it. Yes, those enticing months can often seem too short and the idea of taking more time away from the daily grind becomes a most tempting prospect.

It’s been a while coming so here’s the first installment of the description of my trip to Scotland over the Spring Bank Holiday weekend. The outing itself turned out to be planned at the last minute because the overall tenor of the weather forecast hadn’t been the most promising. As it happened, I gleaned that heading north was best so that’s why I tried Scotland. I was far from wrong: the weather in Scotland couldn’t have been better and I ended up kicking myself that I hadn’t taken a day off from work to spend a little more time up there.

Of course, I had gone for a spot of walking among hills and my first day, the main subject of this post, was spent making my way along a hill track from Inverarnan to Dalmally. The idea originally came to mind a while back when pondering improvements to the route of the West Highland Way. The route that I took was encapsulated by road walking, first along the A82 from The Drovers Inn to Glen Falloch farm and latterly on the A85 until I reached Dalmally. In between, progress was over good tracks and pathless moor in open country, albeit with a line of pylons stalking their way through glen and over bealach. Navigation was non too taxing for the most part, even if a spot of forestry track building need rather more thought than would have been desired.

The route came from Scotways’ Scottish Hill Tracks, a good source of ideas even if caution is needed when following them on the ground. Don’t expect nice clear tracks because they may not exist and I followed enough of them to know.In fact, anyone following Mick and Gayle’s LEJOG might know that their following another of those hill tracks involved negotiating loads of fallen trees; it almost reminds of my WHW hike along the shores of Loch Lomond last year. There’s a certain caveat emptor to the whole business so it’s best to be prepared, as the old scout mantra goes.

Anyway, to the day itself. It began under cloudy skies with the sun struggling to make its way through as I made my way up the A82; some blue sky made its appearance a little later only to disappear again. As I know well from my WHW tramp from Inverarnan to Crianlarich last August, this is a busy road that creates an unpleasant amount of noise. At 08:00 in the morning, it was quieter but there was no pleasure in plying along its margin watching out for traffic and keeping in from approaching vehicles. I was happy to be rid of it when I picked up a clear track that took me up the slopes around Troisgeach Bheag. I crossed a bridge over the West Highland railway just as a rail tour passed beneath me and took in views over Loch Lomond on the ascent.

All the while, the hubub grew all the weaker. It wasn’t intrusive like that day last August but I like my wild country without that racket. I also rather it without pylons but that was not to be as I flew along the track up Gleann nan Caorann. Though cloud filled the sky, the sun managed to light up the summits of Ben Oss, Ben Lui and Ben a’ Chleibh, at least when I first glimpsed them. It didn’t stay that way for long and the sun continued to fight a losing battle with the clouds until I crested the bealach between Ben a’ Chleibh and Meall nan Tighearn. The track stayed with me for most of the journey into a landscape that was boggy and crossed by a myriad of watercourses. Losing the track as it reached its terminus, a shieling, meant I was in for a plod through and over what was a watershed. I followed whatever vague track took me where I wanted to go for a lot of the time but some freestyle wandering was needed too and that line of pylons served as an excellent handrail. As I continued on a lung and leg busting ascent, a good view of the many lines etched into terrain across it opened up.

Other views opened on making the crest of the bealach and the sun came out to enliven them too; it was to remain thus for the rest of the day. I could see now beyond the glens occupied by the Orchy and Lochy rivers towards Ben Cruachan and such like. Such an arresting vista demanded a stop for its appreciation and I took the opportunity to have some food too. After that, my nigh on pathless course continued as I started on my descent, confident that I was to reach Oban where I was going to be staying on this visit.

Pylons were being painted so a myriad of rough ATV tracks abounded and I picked my way down to the entrance to a the forestry that lay between me and the A85. That entrance wasn’t a welcoming one with its rickety wooden gate and the need to dodge water and mud to get in. In hindsight, it could have be seen as portent of what was to come. I made my way down the firebreak with no sign of the path shown on my map but a track to the left soon offered itself. That took onto another track, a well made affair that clearly had received recent attention and lorries were making their way along it. Navigating forestry tracks can be a confounding experience but all seemed well for now; new tracks can appear and the OS might not be able to keep up with a path turning into a track. However, I don’t whether I missed a left turn due to an episode of reverie or what happened but I started to feel that something was not quite right about where I was going. Trees had been cleared so I could see the A85 below me and I opted to use my right to roam for a more direct approach to reach it, even if it meant crossing the railway and the River Lochy, a perfectly traversable affair. It was not the most dignified route but I got to the A85 and turn left for the tarmac tramp to Dalmally.

Walking along a busy road like the A85 is hardly the best but it can cure all sense of navigational uncertainty. The road margin was generously proportioned but that did not not excise the need for being ever watchful of cars and other vehicles; it was a constant necessity. The day was by now glorious and hotter than I would have liked but I made Dalmally in good time. I wasn’t timely enough to make the 17:03 to Oban, the base for my visit, but the 19:08 was easily made and I got a good rest too. I suppose that I could have gone and walked about a bit but it had been a long day of walking and the heat made relaxation the better option. I was soon enough in Oban and, rather than me plotting out the next day’s wandering, the need for a good night’s rest took over. Sunday was another day…