Category: Scotland
Work in progress
15th March 2009 After walking it in a piecemeal fashion over the course of a few years, I finally completed the West Highland Way in August 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 look 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 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 these. 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.
A trot from Tarbet up to the head of Glen Croe
8th March 2009 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 the 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. Clouds were becoming predominant in the 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 south-west led 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 Inveraray side without warning results in the sort of attention that may explain why the place was a resting point for the cattle drovers who gave it its name. That surprise may have something to do with 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 believe 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.
A last blast of winter?
3rd March 2009 Whatever my views on the meteorological months of winter might be (if I had my way, I would bring everything forward by two weeks but I digress), it has to be said that we have been having one of the colder ones with milder spells like those that we got last month and the one before becoming more like exceptions in the memory. Dumps of snow are forecast for Scotland but getting snow in early March isn't so strange and it has happened a few times in recent years. In fact, last year saw us getting a white Easter at the end of the month.
Speaking of Scotland, I actually managed to spend a bit of time up there over the weekend. In fact, Sunday saw me out among the hills around Tarbet, Arrochar and Glen Croe; my walk took me from Tarbet to Rest and Be Thankful. While I was lucky to get some spring sunshine early in the day and got to hear birdsong filling the air, there were prolonged rain showers wandering the hills too. In the afternoon, they started to come in one after another, so much so that leaving for greater shelter seemed the most sensible option when I did so.
I'll tell more about that escapade later, but the transition from snow to mildness to soaking rain to snow again is a striking one, especially when you start getting to think about what unstable snow packs can do. Snow seems to have left the Cheshire hills that I can see from my house and the forecast shows no sign of it returning to them this time around. In many ways, it has been an amazing winter and one that I'll continue to remember, at least if those late springs and early summer days deliver the weather goods appropriate to showing off their wares.
Update 2009-03-05: A dusting of snow has been granted to us but it's inconsequential in the lowlands. Peering into the hills though reveals a greater covering.
Another one for the ideas shelf
27th February 2009 I don't know whether I have been bedazzled by the the high country of Argyll, Lochaber, Lochalsh and Skye but their eastern counterparts such as the Cairngorms haven't played host to my attentions to the same extent at all. Apart from my passing by the aforementioned hills while on various train and coach journeys over the years, the nearest that I have got to them was when I fanned out from Pitlochry while spending a few days based there in late July nearly three years ago. Then, the closest that I came was when exploring the hills near Kingussie on the other side of the A9.
Many of my highland escapades have centred about the A82 but I realise that there's quality stuff about the A9 too. In fact, on that visit in 2006, I considered venturing into the area about Loch Ericht and the splendid emptiness suggested by the inspection of maps would have drawn me but I was lead away from the idea for some reason, possibly because of a 24 hour railway strike. An out and back journey to Braemar was considered too but the bus timings didn't look so appealing. My courage never extended to savouring what lay further north but there was an embarrassment of riches where I spent my time anyway and I seem to remember leaving with the feeling that I sample next to nothing of what was on offer, never a bad thing.
To return to the subject of perusing maps, my eye was recently drawn to Aviemore and the countryside that lay within its reach. I can only claim to have passed through it but the impression given by some is that it isn't all that interesting a place. However, like many a less than stellar conurbation in the Scottish Highlands, the main draw for many like me is what surrounds it and this is also an area that I have left unvisited thus far. Its decent transport links help to make it a workable base too so I think that I'll leave it for a long weekend when the weather is offering or maybe for that longer stay in Scotland that seems to come to pass every summer. In the meantime, I'll continue to cast my eye over the tracks fanning out through the likes of the Rothiemurchus Forest and into the hill country beyond, formulating better defined possibilities all the while so as not to end up taken by surprise should wondrous Scottish weather decide to make an unexpected appearance on a whim. Only time will tell what might happen.
Greyness
20th February 2009 It has been a very grey week in weather terms around where I live and I could do with seeing a spot of sun and blue skies sooner rather than later. Given the times in which we live, the grey onslaught might be seen as a case of pathetic fallacy but we could all do with something to go and cheer us up. I find that I can only take so much grey weather before needing to head off where there is some sun and, though the sun has been trying to break through today, I feel the need for something more substantive. Saying that, the recent mildness, the return of birdsong and the general feeling of spring in the air has been welcome. That's not to say that the recent cold spell didn't have its bright spots, but the saying that a change is as good as a rest is what comes to mind.
As it has happened, my two most recent forays into hill country were under largely grey skies. The Cumbrian outing may have had its sunny interludes in the cold, but the mildness of the Irish escapade came with no sun at all and it took a while for the day to brighten up with my Pentax's metering showing how dark it thought everything was. Speaking of photography, the lack of sun does make it tricky to capture something in the way in which I would like to share with you. The result is that the occasional posting has appeared on here without any photos.
Part of the reasoning for that dates from over a decade ago when I was building the first incarnation of my online photo gallery. Then, all that any search for photos on the web yielded for me were grey day pictures that I didn't find appealing. The result was that I vowed that sunlit scenes were to be what went on there and I have to say that, apart from the occasional departure, the same thinking rules the roost here too and that's the way that I'd like to keep things.
That is not to say that concentrating on details found underfoot or ensconced in places where flat grey skies can be excluded will not yield anything. For instance, Torc Waterfall near Killarney in Ireland produced the goods on an otherwise damp and dreich day. The waterfall trick has worked elsewhere for me too, with one cataract allowing me to illustrate a trip report for a walk from Ardlui to Butterbridge utterly devoid of sun last November. No doubt, other details that work well in such diffused light would suffice too.
Thoughts of monochrome photography have sneaked into my mind too. A day that mightn't be one for capturing colour vistas might yield good black and white vistas. To me, the trick is to ensure that there is enough tonality to carry off the exploit and not every dull day offers that, so the monochrome route is not a panacea for rescuing otherwise gloomy efforts. In fact, I recommend a look at Craig McMaster's Elements if you want to how much better landscapes look in black and white when there is good light available. Taking colour digital images and converting them to mono like the examples that I have added below (no perfection or greatness is being claimed here) is more involved than merely clicking on the right buttons. Ideally, the photo should have been pre-visualised or planned as a black and white one rather than converting a few and seeing what happens. Of course, there's no harm having a go at that in a spare moment to see what works and what doesn't. That can only help develop your monochrome eye anyway and my impression is that there will be more misses than hits before any refinement starts to come on stream.
2009 seems to have got a start with long grey spells and plenty of ice and snow thrown in for good measure. That's not to say that it hasn't had its sunny interludes but the precedent of 2004 lingers in my memory. That year is one that I'll always remember as being one where sunny spells were a rarity and its summer and autumn didn't help its case, even if the deluges of 2007 and 2008 are perhaps more memorable for some, though that's not how I'll remember those (2007 was decent up until the middle of June if I recall correctly). Let's hope that 2009 brightens up and there's plenty of time for it to do the deed yet. With all the doom and gloom that surrounds us, it looks like we could do with it.
