Category: Scotland
Looks like I got away in time
14th August 2009 The weather prospects may have been uneven, if anything, but I grabbed a few days away in Aviemore this week. The Caledonian Sleeper conveyed me there and away again overnight before today's heavy rain ensconced itself over Scotland. Tuesday saw me trot over Meall a' Bhuachaille, Creagan Gorm, Creag a' Chaillich and Craiggowrie in ever deteriorating conditions (eventually leading to wind blown rain and poor visibility) that left me needing the services of a drying room afterwards. Ironically and maybe irritatingly, the weather improved in leaps and bounds after my descent until the sun appeared on my return to Glenmore. Never let it be said that the Scottish weather doesn't appear to have a sense of humour, but it was decent walking, nonetheless, and I later got in a shower dampened yomp around Craigellachie after an early evening meal.
A mix of sunshine and light showers was what awaited me on Wednesday when I went poking around Inshriach. Whatever sights I might have set on reaching the summit of Creag Dhubh were given something of a cold bath when I saw the thickness of the heathery carpet that I would need to cross and ascend. After the previous day's exertions, I very sensibly thought better of it but have noted the opportunities for a first Munro hereabouts but reckon that more low-level explorations are in order first. I may not have made it to a summit, but a circumnavigation of Loch Gamhna and Loch an Eilean more than made up for that, even if that meant contending with other holidaymakers. More poking followed my evening meal when I got to seek out the Speyside Way, only to note that the route has changed since 2007 when my OS Explorer map was published.
As if to prove that mountain weather has a mind all of its own, Thursday started out damp, so damp that I retreated indoors to the comfort of a return journey along the Strathspey Railway. The dampness hadn't been predicted, but the weather started to turn for the better as I got back to Aviemore again, and a spot of wandering was in order for the afternoon and early evening ahead of my overnight trip south. In short, the steam railway trip had made good use of an otherwise uninspiring morning, and it doesn't take you through ugly surroundings either.
A bus journey conveyed me to Glenmore again, from where I ventured over the Ryvoan Pass on my way to Strath Nethy, where views towards Bynack More and Bynack Beg distracted. In fact, the sight of a good path towards Bynack More has me wondering about doing a trek to its 1090-metre-high summit sometime; having more time available may have seen me make an attempt on the day. As if that weren't enough, there are far too many other options to considered for the same small area, never a complaint. Sun was in short supply, but it stayed dry, and that state of affairs was well appreciated after Tuesday's dousing. Saying that, it was still midge weather, so stopping places needed careful selection so as not to be overrun by the infamous irritants.
Returning to Glenmore meant reprising the outbound journey until after An Lochan Uaine where I selected a forestry path climbing the lower slopes of Meall a' Bhuachaille more enthusiastically than I might have liked at this point. However, I didn't go unrewarded, with the sun coming out to enliven the vistas that opened out before me at the top of the path. Kinder gradients awaited me on the way down a forestry vehicle track.
From Glenmore, I followed the "Old Logging Way", a new off-road cycle and walking track shadowing the road back to Aviemore without appearing on my 2007 OS map. Catching the bus back might have been the less tiring option, but I wasn't going to leave even an ever cloudier evening go to waste. In fact, I was back in Aviemore without feeling too shabby after my exertions and with ample time ahead of my train for getting some food. Whatever doubts surfaced in my mind about the sense of my decision proved groundless.
Looking back at it now, imperfect weather failed to put paid to a well-packed and well-used few days. A trip to Aviemore may not be as attention grabbing as one to the Western Isles like mine last year, but it was a break from the daily hurly-burly and that was what was really needed. Mallaig may have surfaced as an option for a multi-trip this so-called summer, in line with my usual drift to the West Highlands, but the prevailing weather sent me east to follow up on my April excursion and more can follow from this one again. That western drift has left much unfinished business in the east, always a shot in the arm for when it is needed. This posting itself is, as long as it is, the start of an unfinished business with my intending to elaborate in the fullness of time. In a way, it's like the trip itself: a lot done, but more to do.
New photos of Inverness added
11th July 2009 This morning, a new box arrived, and the subsequent attention devoted to it took up the most of the day. The result is that I have set up a new main home PC offering a home for the various bits and pieces that have been scattered about the place for the last two months. Laptops and external hard drives are all very fine but I prefer to have a next to everything in a single place if I can. Now that I am more organised again, I can settle things in at my leisure and without any encroachment on taking advantage of whatever walking or cycling opportunities that come the way.
Speaking of the laptop, one of its last acts before its role of main PC was usurped by a desktop computer again was to prepare some photos taken on that stroll in Inverness last month for the photo gallery. You'll find them in the Northern Scotland section after being deposited there with the new machine. My mind has been set to wondering what other new additions might follow them, but no decisions have been made just yet.
Though heavy rain is passing through, today wouldn't have been bad for a walking or cycling trip; rain arrived later in the day in my neck of the woods. Also, once the dampness has moved on, tomorrow may well offer its chances for escape out of doors. After all, one whole day messing with computers at a time has to be enough for anyone.
Pondering midsummer torpor
6th July 2009 With all the attention given to winter hibernation, it is easy to forget that there is summertime laziness too. Regular readers will realise that I prize the period of the year between the winter solstice and its summer equivalent highly and especially the eruption of verdant vegetation that gives us the wonders of May. The trouble with that is that the wind can evade your sails after the longest day of the year and you get to wondering if the year has passed its best like I did on here about this time last year. This time around, I am less bothered by the matter and I am seemingly more open to the attractions of the time of year and the observation that the countryside still delights even with cloudy skies.
Speaking of last year, July was a quiet month with a perhaps foolish walking trip to Welshpool on an oppressively hot Sunday at the end of the month. Apart from that, it was left to bike rides to capture any episodes of dry or sunny weather because of other preoccupations and distractions about this time; some involvement with dramatic activity in the world of WordPress was only partly to blame.
It's all too easy to have a bout of mid-year lethargy round about now. For one thing, feeling that you have made ample use of any opportunities that arose can only dull the hunger for thrusting oneself into hill country. That can place your motivation at the mercy of other things like the weather. On one end of the spectrum, you have heavy rain showers like those that we have been seeing recently, the type that makes the idea of mobile roof appealing and the heat emphasises the advantages of umbrellas over raincoats in certain conditions. Then, there's hot sunshine and my running hot means that I favour cooler temperatures than some. Also, classic summer weather isn't the best for photography, another mechanism that gets out among those hills. Saying that, pleasant mornings ahead of a rain or wonderful evenings after one often offer the most. These circumstances offer a certain freshness and clarity that is missing from heat haze obstructed equivalents that abound during a heatwave.
The myth may indicate otherwise but July can be a very unsettled month, even in a year not known for a rubbish summer. In 1999, for instance, it was very grey in Edinburgh until the end of the month when a sunny propelled me onto Skye on a multi-day outing that sowed the seeds for many more. Speaking of Scotland, you end up awaiting the departure of the jet stream before settled weather is visited upon the country. In 2003, I called it wrong and had my week up there far too early. Though it felt that I was getting a constant soaking at the time, looking back does highlight its brighter times: a wonderful day spent beside Loch Etive and a dry if dull trot from Kinlochleven to Fort William along the West Highland Way. Staying with hindsight, it might have been better off sticking with reconnaissance on the damper days, but the soakings that I got while travelling between my lodgings in Banavie and Fort William couldn't have been avoided by this approach. However, I did keep it in mind for my Western Isles escapade last year and foul weather alternatives will be placed on file for any trip in August. That isn't to say that July is always damp but 2006 saw a scorcher visited upon us and I extricated something of value amid the uncertainties in 2004 and 2005 too. Last year and the year before were far from inspiring, but dry sunny weather was there to be enjoyed too and that's how I'll remember them.
All in all, that mixture should tell us that it's best not to expect much of July and this year seems to be following suit after the dryness of June. Last weekend mixed in downpours and sunshine so I grabbed the opportunity for a day sailing trip from Liverpool to the Isle of Man. As it turned out, I left a grey Liverpool for a damp Douglas that made me glad that I hadn't committed to spending a lot of time on the island. Along the way, I learnt a little more about what is on offer over there and thoughts are turning to longer trips, more realistically to be occasional but a useful entry on the ideas shelf nonetheless. From what I have seen so far, there seems to be plenty of coastal walking and there's hill country to be savoured too. Public transport on the Isle of Man looks workable too with a good level of service on offer. Sunshine may have been encountered in Liverpool rather than my destination but I am not so easily discouraged. If I was, I might have stopped exploring the British and Irish countryside long ago.
Ideas for that week in August are collecting and they aren't all Scottish either. For one thing, there's always the Pennine Way, but Connemara has come to mind already and now the Isle of Man. Scottish proposals like the Rob Roy Way, extending out from Mallaig, the Cairngorms and the north-west Highlands remain in the running. The options may be more open this year but it's good to have them too. Hopefully, something can come of them.
A route reprised in reverse to resolve a quandary
26th June 2009 In light of the weather forecast, a trip to Scotland last weekend might have seemed an odd choice to make. After all, one other occasion where I set off north in search of consistent improvement over the course of a day had me arriving a day too early. However, I wasn't so fussy and I set off regardless with the options of exploring around Loch Ericht near Dalwhinnie or reprise a part of the West Highland Way that I haven't hiked for a number of years now.
In the event, I plumped for the latter and arrived at a rainy roadside at the head of Glen Coe. Buachaille Etive Mor was shrouded in low cloud and it might have been sensible to consider adjourning to the King's House Hotel and awaiting the next bus north for a day of travelling in place of the planned walk. Duly equipped, I faced the dampness and all it took for things to dry out was the length of time that it takes to get from the A82 to the hotel along the West Highland Way. This change of affairs certainly put paid to any fears of having a long wet walk ahead of me.
Soon enough, the track of the WHW started to attract journeying types like myself and others doing the entire thing. With a well frequented track such as this, it is too easy to get your normal walking rhythm disturbed by the incompatible pace at which others are going. Though there were showers, the clearance continued as I shortened both the distance to Kinlochleven and the amount of time that I was to spend shadowing the A82. Thankfully, the road wasn't too busy and road noise was none too intrusive. Even with the prospect of being passed by slowcoaches, I still took my chances to look across the glen to savour whatever brightness happened to spotlight the slopes. Making decent headway across the slopes of Beinn a' Chrùlaiste ensured that Altnafeadh was reached soon enough.
After a short break, I took to the track up the Devil's Staircase. Having passed the way once before, I knew that this was going to be hard leg work. That time, I was going the other way on a day that was cloudy but dry if reluctant to leave the sun out, a marked contrast to a sunny afternoon and evening spent in Glen Nevis the previous day. The descent down the Devil's Staircase lingered in my memory but I had forgotten the ardour of the ascent from Kinlochleven and how long it took; that was something that I was set to discover later. Going at things in the opposite way to everyone else and during the afternoon too, almost guaranteed that my hike was my own and without intrusion from others. It was so different last Saturday with a human train trailing down the steep slope and with me at or near its head. Stops were in order on the ascent and I did get passed near the top by someone carrying no pack. My having one with all my weekend bits and bobs contained therein meant that I was unable to offer much of a contest anyway so I was far from bothered.
A well-earned break was taken where the gradient levelled off on the bealach between Beinn Bheag and Stob Mhic Mhartuin. Letting the hoards continue on their way, I noted the more friendly slopes round about me and got to picking up a clear track, boggy in parts, as I surmounted the lesser visited 616 metres high summit of Beinn Bheag. The reward was good panoramic views subject to low cloud and any rain showers staying away. Finding some shelter from the wind, I set to making sense of what lay about me and slaying any demons that beset me when looking at old photos. Being able to pinpoint my location became key to the task; it's hard to work out what's in a photo when you are unclear where it was taken. Setting the map with my compass helped again, although finding that two maps are needed for the exercise has its drawbacks.
After descending Beinn Bheag to the WHW again, I opted for Stob Mhic Mhartuin in the knowledge that I had time available with Kinlochleven being just a few hours away. My Harvey map showed a track marked leading up to the 707 metres high summit, a little surprising since it showed nothing on Beinn Bheag, though I suspect that this may be due to Stob Mhic Mhartuin being a possible stepping stone on a traverse of the Aonach Eagach. The slopes beyond Stob Mhic Mhartuin looking amenable but, inviting as they were, Sron a' Choire Odhar-bhig and its neighbours were left for another time; one with more sun would be ideal for photographic pursuits in an area where they should be splendidly fruitful.
After a saunter about its top, I descended Stob Mhic Mhartuin to recommence my journey to Kinlochleven. The morning rush along the WHW has passed, so walking a busy old military road had become a far more relaxing prospect. That is not to say that there were no other folk going the way but the well scattered mix of fellow walkers and runners was a nicer one than feeling surrounded by bunched up groups. The threat of rain had nigh on completely receded, but cloudiness reigned unopposed with the occasional insurgency of sunlight. Any glance east revealed sunlit hummocks in the distance, an observation that cannot but cause one to wonder if they were in the right place but I was where I was and enjoying it anyway. In any event, the sun was greater headway as views over Blackwater Reservoir and Meall Bad a' Bheithe opened out for fuller inspection.
Progress towards Kinlochleven was good but not sufficient to make the idea of catching the 15:40 bus to Fort William a reality. Saying that, I was well in time for the 16:40, so travel plans remained on course. The final descent into Kinlochleven was steep, steep enough that gambolling along wasn't an option and especially so with all the twists and turns that were taken. Camera work was slowing things a little too because the sun was winning out over the clouds. In fact, warm sun was the order of things on the final approaches to Kinlochleven. My arrival into the village saw me leave the WHW for a more direct approach around by the Blackwater Hostel. After some time for ablutions and a little shopping, I set about awaiting the bus after what had been a good day out. It remains an area worthy of revisiting so I'll continue to keep it in mind as a definite possibility; you always want to leave somewhere as scenic as this with a plausible reason for a return if the opportunity should ever offer itself.
Midsummer madness can be rewarded
24th June 2009 The past weekend saw me set off on an incursion into Scotland. My arrival at the road end for the White Corries ski centre was in utterly unpromising conditions: continuous rain and low cloud obscuring the tops. Oddly undeterred, I stuck with my original plan to ply the West Highland Way all the way to Kinlochleven only to receive continual encouragement from a steady improvement in the weather; it dried up after King's House Hotel with light showers continuing until the middle of the day and sun coming out from the clouds for a grand evening. From the top of the Devil's Staircase, I popped up onto Beinn Bheag and Stob Mhic Martuin before carrying on towards Kinlochleven. Those ascents afforded opportunities to disentangle and put names to the various humps and bumps that surrounded me, a matter that has perplexed me every time that I get to look at photos taken when I was last this way a few years back. Ideas for future hikes have been planted in my mind, too, so the proverbial ideas shelf continues to be replenished.
Having been forewarned about a sailing event in Fort William, I opted for a night in Inverness instead. Saying that, Fort William didn't look so overrun while I was there, but my plans were set, and I sat back to see the sights through the coach windows. A Sunday morning stroll changed my view of Inverness from a less than positive one to a more favourable standpoint. The cause of this change of heart was my discovery of the delights of walking by the River Ness and its islands in bright sunshine. My first visit to Inverness was on a cloudy dreich day prone to dampness, never good conditions to see anywhere, and I popped out to Urquhart Castle on the shores of Loch Ness without ever venturing around by the Ness islands in the city itself. In some respects, I am amazed by that omission, but it seems that the Great Glen Way isn't routed that way for nothing. If anything, my time in Inverness on this occasion may have been overly short; after all, I did have a long train journey ahead of me. Even so, the delights of the city displayed themselves so well that they could be translated into the traditional Scottish phrase "Haste Ye Back".
That may well set things in play for a mental distillation session ahead of my now habitual longer summer break. This year, there isn't a single silver bullet like the Western Isles became last year and foul weather alternatives are in order too, even with the Met Office's optimism. There's nothing for it but to lay out all the possibilities somewhere and assemble something reasonable from them. In the meantime, though, that Lochaber hike commands a longer description, so my intention is that one will appear on here in due course.
