Collected Musings of a Hill Wanderer

Yesterday was gorgeous but I only got a few hours out on my bike so I stayed local. What happened was that mucking around caused by to a rogue DVD writer cost me most of the weekend, a pity really but that’s how it goes. However, it seems that I wasn’t alone because Mapyx have put out a new version of Quo only for their servers not to take the load when it came to downloading the thing. Like Microsoft with the beta of the forthcoming Windows 7, they had underestimated the amount of interest that would be aroused (which is probably good for them given the times in which we are living). There is no longer a premium version of the Quo software so it looks like all of the goodies might be available now for free. Saying that, I need to admit that I have yet to download a copy and doubts are bubbling up in my mind as to the wisdom of the upgrade. This past weekend’s misadventure is but one of the causes but seeing compatibility problems with using recent versions of Anquet’s software looms larger in my thinking (technical note: they might need to put out something more self contained rather than having it dependent on what you have on your system). Whatever I choose to do, I’ll make sure that I try to clear some space for an excursion should fine weather decide to visit us like it did yesterday. That "quick" piece of computer tinkering might need to wait for afterwards…

My ongoing updates to the photo gallery (my attention is drifting towards the Argyll & Mull section at the time of writing) has caused my eye to fall upon coniferous forestry more often than not. It seems that my journeys in search of wilder countryside have taken through me by more plantations than I care to remember. Scotland is particular prone to them, it seems, but my native Éire has them too, a consequence of government policy in the 1960′s and after. I seem to remember from secondary school geography lessons that statements like adding to the visual appeal of the landscape and making good use of marginal land were stated as its advantages. The first of these is a matter of personal taste but the second is being challenged by the realisation that marginal land only yields wood of a quality perhaps only useful for paper manufacture has since dawned upon our collective consciousness. It seems that some such plantations could be left without felling because their economic value cannot justify the expenditure involved. All in all, the advance of coniferous woodland wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be.

Whatever the reservations may be, even I have to admit these commercial plantations have allowed the opportunity to create recreational spaces from which to escape our cluttered lives. In Ireland, trips to the likes of the Ballyhoura Mountains or Gougane Barra cannot be managed without the sight of conifers and they accompanied my early introductions to the pleasure of exploring hill country. In latter times, many a trek in Scotland has had me encountering similar sights.

It almost goes without saying that some plantations are more walker friendly than others. Ireland’s forestry agency, Coillte, is one of the better owners and I ask myself how many Looped Walks or off road sections of the Waymarked Ways there would be without them. Also coming up for an honourable mention is the Forestry Commission with their work on paths and tracks around Loch Long and Glen Croe. They also made a contribution to the development of the Rob Roy Way in the shape of the way marking that I found useful while following the trail from Drymen to Callander.

Even with these helping hands, passage through plantations should never be taken for granted and I have caused myself torment of this kind more often than I should have. All it takes for an OS map to be unhelpful is for a new track to appear or an old one to become overgrown or obstructed. The ensuing navigational confusion can lead you to do things like my reaching the A85 in cross country fashion while walking from Inverarnan to Dalmally. It’s not the only lesson teaching me never to rush woodland walking unless I know really well where I am going.

Aside from navigation, the other downside of passing through forestry is that you often cannot see the wider vistas that surround you. That point can be driven home rather too firmly by an outbreak of sod’s law where the sun is released from its cloudy lair when the trees block your view only for it to be hidden again when you finally reach open country. In days when the prospects of capturing those panoramic views was a stronger draw for me, misgivings about woodland walking arose from this very kind of thing. There are times when the trees are felled to release the vistas but the challenge of making pleasing photos while avoiding having the remaining wreckage in the foreground rears its head on you.

While on the subject of photography, it has to be said that broadleaved woodland probably does you more favours than the conifers with their homogeneous and near unchanging hues; they do need the surrounding countryside to help them for wider views. For one thing, there’s more diversity on the floor of one of the former and I have memories of the extensive bluebell glades etched in my mind from a yomp along the bonny banks of Loch Lomond to bag the WHW between Inverarnan and Drymen. The colours of new growth in May is another pleasure and any unease at the year reaching its autumnal phase is at least partly dispelled by the sights of the russets, oranges and yellows in the trees. It’s the sort of thing that has brightened up many a lunchtime walk for me and there’s birdsong too to make it a truly audiovisual experience. It’s these sorts of experiences that soothed any misgivings about woodland walking that I may have had but coniferous forests have their pleasures too and you can always get above the tree line.

The past weekend didn’t see me get out into hill country for a variety of reasons and there was ample dull weather about to provide balm for my senses following my non-exodus. Today is a different matter with its warm hazy sunshine and the prospect of similar weather for the rest of this week has me pulling my bike out for the daily commute. After what has been one of the colder winters in recent times, daffodils are finally coming into bloom and there’s a certain change in the brightness of the light that always comes around this time of year. Birdsong has been heralding the onset of spring for a while now and looks set to continue while rabbits can be seen scampering and pheasants scurrying (the sound of an emergency pheasant lift off is quite something though we shouldn’t be the cause of it). In these times of downturn, we need a lift and it looks as if nature is putting one our way, never at all a bad thing and probably more needed in Éire than in the U.K. There’s a bank holiday in over there tomorrow for St. Patrick’s Day so the resurgence is well timed for a day that not only sees celebrations for many but also that first bit of lawn mowing of the year for some. Let’s hope that the coming May, for me the month associated with any year’s climax, turns out just as well for us.

After walking it in a piecemeal fashion over the course of a few years, I finally completed the West Highland Way in August of 2007. Following that and a number of entries on this blog, I set up a West Highland Way section on my photo gallery with a view to completing it with more new photos in the fullness of time. In fact, it has taken until now for me to add photos for the piece between Inverarnan and Bridge of Orchy and there could be more when I get to looking at some of the photos that I captured on film about the same time (I was capturing more vistas on film than digitally in those days, a trend that was reversed in the intervening period).

Looking back over photos can set the mind to wandering and various ideas began to bubble up in mine. For one thing, I am considering re-walking the WHW between Glen Coe and Kinlochleven on a sunnier day than the one on which I actually walked that part of the trail. That would let me acquire more pleasing photos than what I have for for it already. It wouldn't be the first time that I walked a section of the way since I trekked the section between Kinlochleven and Fort William twice. A cloudy day attenuated photographic exploits the first time around and the weather that I enjoyed on the second occasion couldn't have been better. Another part that saw me revisiting was a short stretch east of Tyndrum and that wasn't done for any other reason than to make good use of a wait for the next train or bus to come and allow me to continue my southbound journey after a weekend spent in Argyll.

Other thoughts followed with explorations of the hill country at either side of the way lining up for consideration. One such option was a trek from Inverarnan to Dalmally that I undertook last May but there remain many others. The hills at either side of Strath Fillan attract attention for one thing and those near Tyndrum such as Ben Lui and Ben Dubhcraig enticing the mind, if only to confirm what hills are in photos that I already made. Looking towards Bridge of Orchy yields a number of options with making an ascent of the rounded humps of Beinn Udlaidh and Beinn Bhreac-liath as just one of this. My head for heights is far from being of climbing calibre so I prefer my hills not to have frightening gradients when it comes to reaching their summits and, more importantly, getting back down again. The location of the twosome in question must mean that appealing views towards the Black Mount and Rannoch Moor are on offer. Then, there's the prospect of longer walks either through Glen Lyon to Killin or through Glen Kinglass to the shores of Loch Etive with options from the foot of that glen to continue to Glen Coe or Taynuilt. These options might make for two-day backpacking hikes for when I finally get to add wild camping to my repertoire of outdoors skills but one also could be seen as a long day walk.

All in all, casting my mind over older outings has yielded ideas for the future and in an area that hasn't seen my footfall for a while. They might come in handy for an occasion that surprises me with good weather and it's never any harm to see a new side of an area that you already visited.

Thinking back over the various trips where I spent just a day exploring Argyll during a weekend in Scotland, success with the weather has been patchy to say the least. A trek that started from Tarbet and saw me venturing into Glen Loin and a little beyond was on a day that had its share of dampness with showers coming in one on top of another to annoy me by the time I got to Arrochar. Another hike, this time from Ardlui to Butterbridge, was beset also by a dreich dampness. The weather on my most recent escapade presented a good deal of wetness but there was a sunny interlude in the morning that more than made up for the coming dampness. Later, the rain became near constant, so much so that the constant soakings would make you consider whether you had paid enough heed to the forecast and better controlled your ambitions. Even with the right gear, those wettings still become something of a chore even if you have confidence in remaining warm and dry.

My walk started in Tarbert and a dump of rain was already in progress when I arrived. Having donned my waterproofs in a handy bus shelter, I set off along the road towards the nearby train station. Going under tracks there brought me onto a good Forestry Commission path that was to bring me to the shores of Loch Long and Arrochar. Water may have lain everywhere underfoot but the weather dried up as I made my way onward. Bright sunshine was very much order of the day while I rounded the head of Loch Long on useful paths that got me away from the A83. This was a chance for photographic activity and I didn’t want to waste it. Summits such as Beinn Narnain and A’Chrois were momentarily clear and brightly lit while other summits like Ben Arthur (The Cobbler) were attracting low cloud from time to time. As if these sights weren’t enticing enough, the air was full of birdsong and the calls of seabirds to yield an uplifting atmosphere.

On the other side of the loch, another crossing of the A83 took me onto a well engineered path that must be the start of many an exploration of the area’s hills. Quite why some cut off the corners on this section is somewhat beyond but they may not realise the effects of erosion, particularly with the amount of rain that the area gets and I have very good reason to know that. Soon enough, I reached the track that was to convey me to Ardgartan and leave those walkers who were headed for greater heights behind me. The upper slopes above me looked temptingly manageable but I had no designs on reaching summits and managed to scotch the idea even with my passing a path leading to those heights. Even if I did have ambitions to reach hilltops, the prospect of clag and rain might have gone some way to attenuate them.

That track turned into a path that had its share of ups and downs as I turned the corner to leave the coast to journey along Glen Croe. Cloud was becoming predominant in sky by this time and dampness soon followed my reaching Ardgartan. The visitor centre and its public conveniences were closed, making me wonder if opportunities were being missed. Though this is one end of the Cowal Way, there were no leaflets was that long distance trail available but, oddly, those for the Kintyre Way were. I wasn’t bound for Lochgoilhead so I eschewed the Cowal Way to stick with the idea of hiking up Glen Croe to Rest and Be Thankful as I had planned.

Because of my needing to catch a bus back to civilisation again, I was concerned about the time needed to complete this part of my trek. However, my fears were groundless because I had plenty of time to wait before that bus came. The fact that rain continued to fall as I plied my way along a good forestry track was probably a help because it ensured that I kept going without any long stops; photography stops are not so plausible under grey skies anyway and you don’t mix rain and cameras if it can be avoided. There was a steady ascent with Croe Water below and just to the north of me so some short stops were made. Saying that, the gradients weren’t too taxing either. Other paths leading off to higher slopes were passed with one leading to The Brack and another passing through the hills to Lochgoilhead that I had spotted on a map a little while back. There were track junctions too but they posed no navigational challenges and I could tell where I was from the hills that lay across the glen from me. Seeing the cleft between Ben Cobbler and Ben Luibheann was reassuring and the B828 was reached after negotiating a track made muddy by forest operations. The snow covered summit of Beinn an Lochan was ahead of me and gazing to the southwest lead my eyes to look upon Ben Donich. From there, it was a short hop, even for tired legs, to Rest and Be Thankful.

Many of my Scottish excursions have taken me past Rest and Be Thankful and coming upon the trough that is Glen Croe from the Inverary side without warning results in the sort of attention that may explain why the place was a resting point for the cattle drovers who it its name. That surprise may have something to do the more gradual nature of the ascent from Cairndow and the flatness around Bealach an Easain Dubh. Being the lofty vantage point that it is, Rest and Be Thankful earns itself the obligatory car park but little else in terms of facilities apart from visits by a mobile snack van, a fact that was brought home to me when I received a wetting while adding my coach. In view of the droving history, I find it unusual that no one ever tried starting up an inn near the vantage point. Though I did enjoy some dryness and saw some spouts of sun while I was there, I am inclined to think that there may be a return at some point in the future when conditions are drier; the wetness was a distinct contrast from what I encountered while rounding the head of Loch Long. I am of the opinion that seeing Glen Croe on a good day when sunshine makes the most of the landscape would be more than worth the effort as would a deeper exploration of the hill country of Ardgoil.