Category: Rob Roy Way
Added springtime serendipity around Stirling and the Trossachs: From Forthside to lochside
14th January 2025 To complete, the Stirling series of trip reports, I am leaping forward to April 2024 to relate the rest of the excursion to Stirling that closed out my rambling around Ben Ledi. That portion of the trip has been described already as part of the collection of hikes around Callander's main local hill. That was not the only highlight offered by a few days of sunshine that contrasted with previous dull weather stints in the area.
Footsteps Around the Forth
Stirling is not always a dull weather spot for me, though. While my first encounter with the place in 2002 might have gone like that, others have not been so. Typically, they have been weekend affairs, with a Saturday arrival and a Sunday departure. There are a few that stand out in my memory. One from November 2023 is among these with its incursion into the Ochil Hills on a gravel track shod with lighter footwear, not my usual way of working. That too has been described elsewhere as one of a collection of hikes around the said hills. There has been some slicing of hill walking trips to the area, of which this is another example.
Returning to Stirling walks, one from February 2016 remains lodged in my mind, coming as it did in a period of great change for me. The Sunday of that weekend came as a crisp, chilly, sunny day that I could not waste. Going inside to see what is in Stirling Castle or the Wallace Monument did not feel right to me, so I stayed out of both of them. When there is a significant fee, there often is a commitment that I am not willing to make.
My traipsing then took me around Gowanhill, the caste perimeter and Old Stirling before I wandered in the direction of Cambuskenneth Abbey, or what remains of it, which sadly is not that much. Then, I pottered around the Wallace Monument before circling around to Old Stirling Bridge. All this occupied enough of the day beside part of the River Forth that I had no inclination to approach the Ochil Hills, which I was then viewing from further afield.
Stirling's Castle has its photographic attractiveness, and that brings me to May 2019 when I arrived in the city to make use of some evening lighting. Otherwise, it was a case of retracing old steps before returning south after the last of a string of Scottish incursions, mainly centred on Edinburgh and starting around Easter of the year. For later visits, the motivation was photographic, while the Easter escapade featured much walking and slaying of old wounding memories from my time living in the city for educational advancement.
The first evening of my stay in April 2024 drew on those previous visits to Stirling. Wandering by the River Forth took me by the Cambuskenneth Abbey ruin. After a photographic vigil, I set on for the Wallace Monument while more photographic exertions resulted before I started to explore the trails around Abbey Craig. Since the monument was shut for the day, there were few about to intrude on any solitary ambling. There was much to savour in this compact area before I again struck on for Old Stirling Bridge and followed the River Forth as far as Forth Valley College before turning towards the castle while the day wore on towards sunset. The light was faded, so photography was near halted, or at least the results got regarded as mere record shots. Going around by King's Knot, I made my way towards the lodgings for my stay, noting in the west where I was headed the following morning.
Lochside Rambling from Callander to Aberfoyle
It is often that an outing inspires a follow-up excursion. It was during the hike around Ben Ledi that I spotted an information board mentioning the prospect of circumnavigating Loch Vennacher among other possibilities. Naturally, that popped an idea into my head. With the Ochil Hills being closed off by an incursion in November 2023, that left a day free to make use of the idea. It all was in the spirit of serendipity, and that was set to affect the execution as well.
Thus, I returned to Callander after the gifts of the previous day. Hovering over the day was a throwback to the English August Bank Holiday weekend in 2007 when I ventured north to Scotland to hike part of the Rob Roy Way from Drymen to Callander with a stopover in Aberfoyle. A tumble in a train station rather cast a shadow over the proceedings because of my having hurt my ribs at the time. That made the use of a rucksack more challenging, especially since I was carrying quite a load for the weekend. Nevertheless, I managed to follow through on my plans with an overcast arrival in Callander after a sun blessed start in Aberfoyle. Even so, there were many thoughts about coming back to the area that were lost to me until I revisited that old trip report, even giving a little re-editing for clarity.
Thus, when I followed the A81 across the River Teith after a circuitous deviation caused by my stocking up on refreshments, I probably was reversing a route taken nearly seventeen years before, albeit in continuous bright spring sunshine. It was as if I were using an idea parked in my writings for years before. Once off that A road, which can be busy, I was on quieter tarmac. Since this also is part of National Cycle Network route 7, I also had cyclists for company, even leap frogging a duo until they got going and left me after them. Heavier traffic like timber lorries can go this way, so care is needed, and there was one that passed me at one point. Mostly, though, I was in quiet surroundings.
Patient trotting conveyed me to the shore of Loch Vennachar, which I had viewed from around Ben Ledi the day before. Some wild swimmers were in the water, and I left them to their pursuit, surveying what lay north of me. Naturally, one of the hummocks was Ben Ledi and its neighbouring hills. One of these, Stuc Odhar, even appeared its equal in a distance of some kilometres; in reality, the summit heights differ by over two hundred metres. Nevertheless, these were to detain my attention for much of the way.
All the while, there were constant reminders that Aberfoyle is not that far away; Scottish Rights of Way Society signage offered evidence of that, tempting me to reprise the former route from August 2007, albeit in reverse. Even so, I stuck with the cycling route because that hugged the loch shore. After an awkward meeting with others near the Sailing Club premises around East Lodge, I continued past West Dullater with a brief stop at the Invertrossachs Scout Activity Centre, where I was reminded of days spent at the Firbush Field Centre during my university days in Edinburgh.
Around Invertrossachs, I left the roadway for a narrower track that still acted as a cycle path, forming part of NCN 7. It amazed me that the trail was in use by bicycle tourers, given the lack of width. Thankfully, it was quiet and a pleasure to stroll, with only one cyclist passing the way. While the bucolic woodland may have limited views, they had been somewhat unchanging anyway.
That had altered by the time that forest cover began to thin to allow views of the western extent of Loch Venachar, which was petering out, unlike its eastern end, which is dammed. All this may have started below the dam of Loch Drunkie, which I would meet later; at that stage, it was hidden among the trees around a kilometre away to my left. My surroundings began to feel more peopled as I approached the track junction where there was a sign for Aberfoyle, one of several that I had passed that day.
A desire for ice cream lured me onto the route of the Three Lochs Drive to find the way to Brig o' Turk. If I had stuck with my initial plan, the Great Trossachs Path would be carrying me back to Callander. Instead, I had decided to make for Aberfoyle, conscious that its last bus to Stirling was earlier in the day than that from Callander. Nevertheless, I continued to Brig o' Turk on what became a fool's errand, for there is nary a service station in the place. However, I did get to spot the way to Glen Finglas, somewhere that tickles my fancy for another time.
On the way back from Brig o' Turk, I took a chance and went as far as Loch Achray before circling back to the junction where I left the NCN 7. Time was on my mind at this point because the twists and turns of the trail to Aberfoyle made for difficult ready reckoning of progress. Even with the noticeable strength of the sun and the heat of the afternoon, I pressed on uphill.
In time, I would meet with Loch Drunkie and stop for photographic exertions on a periodic basis. The Forest Drive was being well-used by then, not necessarily the most relaxing situation for a passing hiker, though it was to have a compensation later. Many were stopped by the loch, which hardly was a surprise in the circumstances. Once past this sprawling watery landmark, the heat experienced on broad forestry tracks was punctuated by a random act of kindness: a Tunnock's Tea Cake was offered through a car window, and it would have been rude to refuse it. Profuse gratitude after acceptance could be the only response.
Near an unseen Lochan Reòidhte, the Forest Drive route was left behind me as the trail entered shadier surroundings, another blessed relief from the weather. While warm sunshine is great and is sought, there can be a cost for a journeying rambler; using sunscreen is a must (especially for fair skinned types like me), as is keeping hydrated. A descent laden with progress lay ahead of me, yet my thoughts turned to anyone coming the other way on this steep track. It was becoming clear that my timing worries were for nought; there was plenty of time in the end.
Once the gradients slackened, aching limbs needed coaxing to continue the rest of the way. Thankfully, the end was in sight by then, and refreshment supplies were augmented ahead of a replenishment break before the bus appeared. That left me about an hour in Aberfoyle, a very quiet place, while I was there. Protesting knees got some respite as information boards were surveyed. Not without reason has Aberfoyle been highlighted as a centre for mountain biking, with all the tracks and trails that thread the Queen Elizabeth Forest Park. The moniker "Gravelfoyle" has been invented to reflect this, for there is much here, though some steep slopes can be expected. To one weary wanderer, all that felt far away, so the arrival of the last bus to Stirling was a welcome sight.
Looking through photos now, I realise that I pottered around Stirling again before retiring for the night. There should have been continuing fatigue after the day's exertions, yet the sunny evening drew me outside again, though not for an extensive stroll like the first evening in the city. The next morning, sunny surroundings may have attempted to hold on to me only for life's responsibilities to ensure that I returned south again. Nonetheless, there remained an air of satisfaction as I did so. Scottish sunshine had done its magic and its landscapes gleamed as a result.
Prospects and Reflections
Though I might be less inclined to focus my attention on Aberfoyle, I am left with some ideas for possible future visits to these parts. Hiking the northern side of Loch Venachar is one option with a few added extensions. Glen Finglas is the first of these that could be part of a larger circuit around Ben Ledi. After that, there is Loch Katrine, which lay some kilometres west of where I found myself, and time was against my reaching its shores. A lengthy out and back trot from Callander would fit in that one during longer daylight hours. Sometimes, adding to one's ideas collection can prompt a fear that one will remain ever distracted by them and unable to attend to the essential matters of life. Even so, it is even worse not to have any at all.
Tales of patient persistence: ascents of Ben Ledi
10th January 2025 It was during my early incursions that I first found myself near Ben Ledi. That was in August 2002, and I started from Stirling, staying in Bannockburn to be precise, before my touring carried me across Scotland. One of my stops was in Callander before I continued to Fort William and then to Portree on the Isle of Skye where rain finally caught up with me. From there, it was a sodden journey to Edinburgh via Inverness, most of which I was inside a coach, thankful for being under shelter. After an autumnal stint in Edinburgh, I returned south to Macclesfield again.
My brief time around Callander, essentially a day, saw me venture out along what is now part of the Rob Roy Way and past the Falls of Leny. The day started cloudy but brightened up later to offer some pleasing scenes to capture on film; this was in the days before I converted to digital photography. Any combination of dramatic skies and sunlit scenery still appeals to me today.
On looking at the map now, I am unsure as to what I did next. After being around that area a few times now, it bewilders me as how I did not follow the track to the top of Ben Ledi only to go blundering along other trails that I now struggle to locate in the forestry. Given that, it was not before time that I made an ascent of such a prominent hill in the area. After all, someone sharing a breakfast table with me the next morning was going to do just that. All I can say is that I might have been put off by a cloud start to the day. Otherwise, a certain lack of confidence or even lack of knowledge could have accompanied this.
A Day That Was Better than I Recall
The first time I got to the top of Ben Ledi, it was not even the lure that drew me to Stirling after not being in Scotland since the arrival of the pandemic. For a variety of reasons, it went back to 2014 when I last was in the highlands on an elongated weekend stay in Oban. Ben Ledi is just on the right side of the Highland Boundary Fault to be considered within the Scottish Highlands.
The previous Saturday, I had enjoyed a sunlit hike over the top of Helvellyn from the shores of Ullswater to the shores of Thirlmere. The descent was brutal, while any coming up from the western side really was making it tough for themselves. In the hill, the shorter the distance, the steeper the gradients and the slower the going. The weather overcompensated for any hardship, though my luck was not to come north with me.
My reason for being in Stirling was to explore the Ochil Hills; that incursion will be described separately. The distraction by a spur of the moment though was enough to cause me to use the better day for the higher summit. Thus, I found myself in Callander on the English Summer Bank Holiday (Scotland and Ireland have theirs at the start of August). With a mind connecting to twenty years before, I ventured along the Rob Roy Way, taking in the hills beyond Garbh Uisge and recalling that encounter from years before.
Near Creag Dubh, I picked up the trail leading uphill and began my ascent. This is a direct approach, so the often steep gradients can feel relentless. Thus, it is just as well that the views opened out below to offer excuses for rest breaks. Though my enduring recollection is of cloud cover limiting photography, there remained some opportunities of I would have the images that you see above. For some reason, I was hoping for more than I got. Maybe I was spoiled by what came my way around Helvellyn.
Reaching the summit needed patient progress. As well as needing some self-compassion for one's physical condition, there also are false summits on the way. Frustration can set in if you are not keeping a lid on expectations. Once I reached the top, I pottered about a bit before starting on the descent. While others were about, we were not in each other's way. It was possible to benefit from the quietude that was on offer.
With much of the descent completed, I fancied a deviation around by Boschastle Hill, though signs indicated ongoing forestry operations. It seemed quiet, but I eventually heard the noise of machines at work; thus, I needed to retrace my steps while conscious of the times of buses to Stirling. As things happened, all worked out well for the walk back to Callander and the transport connection back to my base. The next day brought a soaking that made me eager to return when the opportunity arose. Then, it looked as if I needed to await the following spring.
Including a Summit within a Circuit
The opportunity for a reprise came sooner than I had the right to expect. It came courtesy of events in Scotland around the time that I was there; the Queen fell ill and soon passed away. The result was an extra bank holiday that could be used for some hill wandering. Not being a royalist and feeling a certain disaffection after political events freed me up to do this, when the loyalties of others compelled them to be elsewhere.
Thus, I found myself in Callander on the day of the funeral after a day spent traversing the Ochil Hills in drier weather when I encountered them before. That Saturday had been a time for travelling north, while Sunday was spent in the Ochil Hills, making the best of what was on offer. Things looked promising for sunshine in Callander, though low clouds decked some of the surrounding hills. That did little to frustrate my Ben Ledi designs.
Since the previous encounter, I had happened on a circular route in a guidebook that appealed to me. The result is that I made for the shore of Loch Lubnaig before turning back on myself to go through Stank Glen after a refreshment stop while the events of the day were displayed on a screen. Some breaks in the cloud cover allowed the sun to light up the surrounding hillsides for a while, doing a better job than it did around Loch Lubnaig. Others were going this way too, so it was just as well that they did not witness a clothing failure that I needed to cover up by wearing overtrousers.
By carefully navigating up steep slopes with faint paths, I made my way onto the shoulder of Ben Ledi not so far way from Bealach nan Corp. Again, patience was needed to reach the top before starting on a by now familiar way down. The sun was making no headway through the clouds by this point, not that it mattered so much at the time. Getting back to Callander to avoid getting stranded possibly was that little more important at that moment.
Enjoying Sunlit Surroundings
The most recent encounter was during a sunny weather window in April of last year. That was when I based myself in Stirling, without any inclination to wander the Ochil Hills after a pleasing incursion on a sunny Sunday the previous November. It was only later that the prospect of a hike by the shore of Loch Vennachar entered my mind.
Unlike the previous occasions when morning sunshine faded over the course of the day or a cloudy start restrained me, this was to be a day of constant sunshine with ample opportunities for capturing the beauty that lay around me. So successful was the photographic side of the venture that I struggled when it came to picking the photos to accompany this account; there were so many from which to choose, like the one showing Ben Ledi from Callander that you see above.
The way from Callander was a conventional one that made use of a cycle trail along what once was a railway alignment. My surroundings looked resplendent as I made my way from Callander on legs that did not feel so strong. While one might blame strolling around Stirling the evening before, there also might have been the after effects of a seasonal hiatus in the works too.
Near Boschastle Hill, I departed from previous convention to follow the forestry track that I might have travelled following the ascent made at the end of August 2022. The provided a more gradual ascent to acclimatise those unready limbs. The effects of forestry operations had opened out the views too, which was an added attraction, especially in the bright morning sunshine.
The part of the ascent with its attendant ever-increasing steepness was not to be put off indefinitely, though. Leaving the forestry track, I made my way uphill through the trees to emerge into bare hillsides with someone ahead. At around the tree line, they stopped for a rest and I carried on past them with the views opening out around me as I had been hoping. Those to the south and east were challenged by the position of the sun, so it is others that you see here. Steady progress with photography stops became a way to coax my limbs to convey me to the top.
Once at the top, the next step was to commence my descent towards Stank Glen, reversing the ascent route from my second hike around by Ben Ledi in September 2022. Since paths became indistinct, careful route finding was in order until a more distinct trail was found. Otherwise, it is easy to go awry and end up nearer Bealach nan Corp than is desirable, especially when visibility is suboptimal. For those fancying other summits, there are ample options when you have the required energy and strength to go with any weather opportunity.
When a clear path became a well-used track, thoughts could turn to reaching the shore of Loch Lubnaig. That sent me around and beneath Creag Gobhlach while traversing Meall Dubh. Other waymarkers on that descent were Creag Chrom, Creag na h-Olla and Tom Bheithe. Since all was sheathed in tree cover at this stage of the hike, views were eliminated, not that such a thing perturbed me. Because much had come my way on the day, there could be no cause for grumbling; any ingratitude would have been rude.
While photographic opportunities may have been limited near Loch Lubnaig because of the position of the sun in the sky, I remained sated with those that were allotted to me. It also helped that my whereabouts were essentially unpeopled, which allowed me to linger a little before commencing my way back to Callander. My passing the Strathyre Forest Holidays resort meant that I could acquire some refreshments in their shop (which has provisions and a café for anyone staying in a cabin) before continuing my return to Callander; while there was an early closure that day, it remained open long enough for my purposes. Suitably reenergised, I got going again on a glorious evening.
While I remained on the tarmacked trail for the rest of the way, there was one part where I deviated from it for the sake of added novelty and extra quietude. The alteration made no deviation to my ability to get back to Stirling by bus that evening; it perhaps shows that an ever present curiosity drives me a lot of the time. At the time, it formed part of an act of closure that freed my mind to go off on other explorations.
Reflections
In some respects, this is a tail of four incursions, from a reconnaissance encounter to a fully sunlit circuit with a summit visit on the way. Though there were different decades, there are some common themes. The hit-and-miss with the lighting is as much one of those as a sense of building a connection to the Scottish Highlands. That was nascent in the early years of the century and became a post-pandemic rebuild more recently.
The whole combined narrative is one of patience and persistence paying off, certainly for photographic purposes. That is never to say that each trip did not bring it share of delights when they all did. An equipment failure was part of the tail, proving that a certain resourcefulness cannot be anything other than essential. All in all, repeat traipsing on foot is a great way to get to know an area intimately.
It also helped that bus service 59 made it so easy to reach Callander without a car, though its operator changed ownership during the sequence of trips related here. The first encounter made use of an infrequent Scottish Citylink service, only for the more local service to be a better enabler for the more recent trio of visits.
And so to 2012
1st January 2012 Having had a few days to catch up with a few recent issues of TGO, a realisation has popped into my mind: maybe basing myself somewhere on a trip away might allow me to get more from it, especially for those places that take a little longer to get to them. Using Dunoon as a base for exploring Cowal worked very well in 2011, so I need to spend a little time pre-assembling some designs so that they have some hope of becoming reality. Along with the wilder parts of Scotland, Northumberland also comes to mind with the longer travel times needed for getting there and because of my whetting my appetite for its hill country during the summer of 2011. Parts of Wales, such as the countryside round about Brecon or the Heart of Wales railway line also come to mind, as do the eastern fells of the Lake District in Cumbria and the Cairngorms in Scotland. Methinks that setting aside a little time to think these over might be no bad idea, and there are others that I could list here too, but there are enough mentioned for now.
The end of one year and the beginning of another is as good a time as any to take stock of things. One of these that comes to mind pertains to numerous loose ends outstanding in my hill wandering from the last few years. The biggest of these is the Pennine Way, along which I haven't walked for a while, and it now looks like multi-day trips are need to add to the mileage already completed. The mention of the Pennine Way also reminds that unused plans exist for walking Derbyshire countryside too, both new and already frequented. Then, there's the prospect of extending what I have walked of the Rob Roy Way and the perennial desire to savour more of what my home country, Ireland, has to offer the hill wanderer. Those should mean no shortage of trip ideas like what I felt to be the case at the end of 2010, at least until I started to catch up with then unread issues of TGO anyway.
2011 has been a busy year for me and I hope that 2012 lets me outside more often, though the future will decide that when it first becomes the present and then the past. After all, there's hill country near Macclesfield that needs to be revisited and other possibilities may come my way. Unlike the end of 2010 when I felt that I had run out of ideas, a year later sees me pondering a fair few options as the blog goes into its seventh calendar year, although its actual birthday is at the start of May; 2012 will see the sixth one being reached. Any designs that I concoct may not be as grand as those of other folk, but having a few of them manage to come to pass will more than do me. Hopefully, 2012 will turn out to be a good outdoors year for you, dear reader, too.
2007: the excursions reviewed
7th January 2008 It's very human to look back at the turn of a year/decade/century/millennium/etc. and, this time last year, I took the opportunity to look over my travels in 2006. In the same vein, I now cast my mind back over the same sort of thing but for 2007 instead. If 2006 was to be the year of seeking out pastures new, then 2007 has been a year largely taken up with following long-distance trails into country familiar to me from a different angle and, more often than not, into country that I am visiting for the first time.
2007 was to start quietly with only one walking excursion in January. The weather didn't tempt but for a day when I went to Chirk for a trek to Llangollen that saw me hop over and back along the Wales-England border before picking up a small piece of the Offa's Dyke Path and leaving that to get to Llangollen before nightfall. It was a case of something old, something new, and put an idea into my head that laid the foundations for a walk later in the year. The long-distance trail ethic that was to pervade my walking in 2007 had made an early appearance.
February built up the long-distance trail trend with my exploring two trails. First up was the Pennine Way, with a hike from Hebden Bridge to Littleborough giving me a feel for the moors above Calderdale. Walks along the Pennine Way, still unfinished business in 2008, were to pervade my outings until the end of April. My second excursion took me up to Scotland for the southernmost part of the West Highland Way: Milngavie to Drymen. This was also a case of going into countryside new to me and, like the Calderdale trot, it was to give rise to more excursions later on.
The Pennine Way hiking continued in March, and it started again early in the month with a trek that saw me return to Calderdale for a walk from Todmorden to Burnley by way of both the Pennine Way and the Pennine Bridleway. This was followed up at the end of the month when I yomped from Haworth to Burnley.
My Pennine wanderings were set to continue in April and the first one plugged a gap in the itinerary from Edale to Haworth: Marsden to Littleborough via Wessenden Reservoir. It was to prove a claggy day until lunchtime, something that very much focussed the mind when it came to navigation. My next day along the Pennine Way was in clearer if blustery conditions. It also was to take me through some of the best countryside on the Pennine Way as I voyaged from Horton-in-Ribblesdale to Hawes. Rain was to beset me on my next excursion as I left Malham Tarn to head for Gargrave, but I left the rain after me in Malham and things cheered up immeasurably as I was nearing my destination for the day. Those two excursions left a gap that was filled on a tramp from Malham Tarn over Fountains Fell and Pen-y-Ghent to Horton on a day that when it felt like summer.
I started May with another trip blessed by fair weather. After years of admiring it, I finally made my way up to the top of Skiddaw. Some may view the manicured lines of the "tourist track" that I followed as dull, I'd rather not scare myself with descents that are too steep, so I well appreciated its gentler approach and I still found time to take in Little Man and Lattrigg as well. Next up in May was a trip that my memory reckons happened in July; it's just as well that I have this blog! I made my return to Chirk for another stroll along the Offa's Dyke Path, this time to Oswestry. Cloud predominated on the day, so photographic opportunities were rare. Even so, it didn't stop my having a good walk in countryside that was new to me. If I had more time, I would have dawdled more, so it might time for a return. In walking terms, the month of May went out with a bang: a two-day trek on the West Highland Way along the banks of Loch Lomond with an overnight stay in Rowardennan. I very much took a chance with the weather on this one, but Scotland didn't let me down on what is, for me, one of the finest stretches of the WHW.
June was to be a quieter month regarding walking and the long evenings were allowing me to get out in the part of Cheshire's hill country that is near me. These outings were to become a feature of the "summer". June soon became a sodden affair, yet I still returned to Rhinog country for a creditable stroll through a landscape that was anything but dry. The weather that we were getting was a foretaste of what was to come, making 2007 a year of two halves: one fabulous and one that returned us to reality. Alan Sloman was lucky to complete his LEJOG when he did.
July was for many a washout, yet I managed to get two decent Lakeland excursions out of the month. Both involved my heading to Windermere, with the first being an over and back hike to Kentmere and the second being a trek to Staveley via Kentmere. On both outings, I enjoyed the fine scenery in excellent weather, something that must sound ironic to those sodden by the floods of 2007. Yes, water had accumulated underfoot, but the worst difficulties, if any, were avoidable.
August saw me finishing two long-distance trails and starting on another one. The first to be completed was the West Highland Way, and that happened on my now habitual summertime stay in Scotland. That saw me complete of perhaps the noisiest stretch of the trail: that between Bridge of Orchy and Inverarnan and with some sun to enliven the views too. The other walking that I did during that trip was a soggy reconnaissance trip among the hills near Kinlochleven. The other trail completed was one passing not far from where I live: the Gritstone Trail. Hikes from Macclesfield to Congleton and from Eaton to Kidsgrove in pleasant conditions allowed me to bring my walking of the trail towards a good end. A final evening stroll was sufficient for me to walk the final short stretch around Bollington before I then walked home to my house. The bank holiday weekend at the end of the month allowed me the opportunity to start off the Rob Roy Way by walking from Drymen to Callander, with an overnight stay in Aberfoyle. This got me into nice countryside that I hadn't visited before, and it seems more than worthy of a return.
After what must sound like a bountiful August, hillwalking activities were less prevalent for the rest of the year, even if I had planned not to have things slow down. September and November stand out as months when you could have said that I had gone into hibernation. October saw me head out for a local constitutional to take in the Autumn colour, follow streams in local hill country and visit the South Pennines for a hike that was lacking in any real progress on completing the missing link in my Pennine Way journey. In December, I decided to vanquish any sense of hibernation by another wander among the hills lining the Cheshire-Derbyshire border, followed up by a fleeting unintended visit to the hill country of the Long Mynd near Church Stretton.
All in all, 2007 was another good walking year for me. Unless you lost out in the flooding (and I don't envy anyone who did: hope it all works out all right for them), it would be a travesty to remember 2007 for its sodden summer when we had so much clement weather earlier in the year. As it happens, the continual greyness that pervaded nearly all of 2004 remains with me, with 2007's bright spots easily causing me to forget any grey bits. The proverbial question of what 2008 will bring does raise its head, as it is wont to do; so also is the realisation that the future is not ours to see (we're probably better off!). I never go in for big plans anyway, but that doesn't stop me having ideas in my mind for when the opportunities to explore them arise. We'll see what happens...
Trekking around the Trossachs
22nd September 2007 Having dispatched my musings on the West Highland Way, I can now recount my wanderings on the last weekend in August, a bank holiday in England but not Scotland; they, like Éire, get theirs at the start of August. A Saturday free of driving lessons meant that an excursion was very likely, so I returned to Scotland when I saw a promising forecast.
Since the weather on that Saturday was not to be the best, I chose that day for travelling. Everything was going hunky-dory until I took a tumble at Dumbarton East train station and felt the worst for wear afterwards. It then was a case of getting to my hotel for the night and taking things easier from then on. Otherwise, it had been a good train journey all of the way from Macclesfield, with changes in Manchester, Lancaster and Glasgow. The change in Glasgow allowed me to get a new Explorer 365 after its predecessor had somehow managed to disappear. While my maps don't usually do things like that, it was fortuitous in the sense that the Rob Roy Way is shown in the current edition.
Though the sun made fleeting appearances while I was in Dumbarton, I wasn't to make much use of my camera there. The nearby castle looked promising, as did the Kilpatrick hills. These offer possibilities for the future, and I will be watching my steps in train stations around there after my mishap. Sunday saw me leave for Balloch, where I caught a bus to Drymen for the start of my walk.
It was just as well, given my tumble, that I had chosen part of the less challenging Rob Roy Way as the route for my weekend stroll. Initially, I had designs on heading to Balmaha and starting from there and rounding Conic Hill, only to drop this idea because my start was later than originally intended. From Drymen, the RRW follows the old Gartmore Road for three and a half miles (5.6 km) before it heads west to Aberfoyle through Loch Ard Forest, where the trail is usefully waymarked. Views of the Campsie Fells were plentiful and there were glimpses of Ben Lomond to be had too. While I am usually not a fan of road walking, the road was quiet and I appreciating the easier going. Having to remain alert for cars is my main reason for disliking road walks. Once off the road, northward views opened up, with the Menteith Hills being among what was to be seen. The tarmac was lost too, along with any sights of pylons, and it was all pleasant stuff. I made decent progress even with carrying a heavy rucksack and polished off the ten-mile walk in five hours to reach a sun-drenched Aberfoyle; because cloud abounded, the sun wasn't out all of the time.
For the evening, I settled myself in an Aberfoyle guest house before going on a stroll to and from Loch Ard itself. Surprisingly, I wasn't feeling the effects of my endeavours and so enjoyed my walk along the quiet road, which lead all of the way to Inversnaid on the shores of Loch Lomond. Even though the sun was playing hard to get, some photographic opportunities did present themselves and I did my best with them. When I got back to the guest house, road workers from the council were proceeding with road repairs that were to continue all night, much to the annoyance of other guests at my lodgings. Nevertheless, I suffered no such inconvenience and was extra careful when passing lorries, dumpers and other such carriageway maintenance machinery.
The next morning began promisingly. The sun was out, and it wasn't overly hot either, a feature of the whole weekend; walking and hot weather are not made for each other. I encountered some Americans at breakfast who were wondering what bank holidays and speed cameras were. I satisfied their curiosity before they continued their way on a holiday that was to lead them to Ireland's mid and southwest. As I finished my breakfast, children were making their way to school. It was a normal Scottish weekday.
I took my leave of the guest house to follow the RRW to Callander. It was 10:00 by the time that I began to make progress away from Aberfoyle; this always seems to happen to me on these trips: I leave somewhere later than I would have liked. From Aberfoyle, it was on to Dounan's Centre and into more forestry; more RRW waymarks were there to resolve any confusion. Views of the Campsie Fells and towards Ben Lomond still pervaded as I headed along the Menteith Hills. The forestry track turned into a path that was to take me through open country with splendid views before me lit up by the sun. It was after an unnamed lochan that I again found myself with forestry track underfoot. That track was to drop me down to the shores of Loch Vennacher, with views of Ben Ledi percolating through the trees.
Sadly, cloud cover predominated while I was walking by Loch Vennacher and the sun was nowhere to be seen. Still, the scenery looked glorious, causing me to add a mental note about n=making another visit when the skies are less clouded. The Trossachs proper were further west and a busy A821 could be heard, though it wasn't to be that intrusive. It remained cloudy as I bashed more tarmac to arrive in Callander at 15:00; I had made good time and put three miles behind me in an hour without too much effort.
Since Callander was where I ended my walking for the weekend, I caught a bus from there to Stirling. It started to rain as I left: some sort of pathetic fallacy, perhaps? At Stirling train station, I was in something of a dilemma regarding the next stage of my journey: was I going via Edinburgh or Glasgow? It should have been a no-brainer; I had a return ticket from Macclesfield to Glasgow. Being overcautious me, I had to double-check things before plumping for Glasgow.
As it happened, I made it to Queen Street station shortly after 17:20 and hot footed it to Central station in a pleasing 10 minutes; I will keep that in mind for the future. Then, I hopped on the 17:40 departure for London Euston and was home by 22:30, having changed in Preston and Manchester on the way south. It was a good trip into some countryside where I hadn't been before, and I hope to come back again.
