2012: Mountains and roofs ... oh my!

Another year gone and I think I can safely say that Mike and I are starting to feel our age! A few new creaks and groans – it is just like that old roué Leonard Cohen says “I ache in the places I used to play”. But, the wheels haven’t come off the Mike and Mary wagon yet. We still manage to get out into the hills for a hike and scramble among the peaks and glens, or hop on the bikes for a ride into the great outdoors.

Admittedly, this year was long on mountains and short on multi-day bike trips, but roads and bike trails are calling too. We are not sure yet what 2013 will bring, but I’m certain it will involve out-walking or out-riding the furthest city lights!

Alan, Mike, Mary, Jan:
Quadra Island

Some of our outdoor highlights for 2012 included a February stay on Quadra Island with friends Jan and Alan. Hiking, hot-tubbing, and beachcombing were the order of the day. Quadra, which is on the north east side of Vancouver Island, is usually busy with visitors in the summer, but in the winter we had the place to ourselves – as you can see from Alan’s picture of Mike and me on Wa Wa Kie Beach.

Mike, Roxanne, and Dave on Mt. Klitsa. The view
is southwest to Nahmint Mountain and the West Coast.

Mike and I enjoy our association with the Alpine Club of Canada. Mike especially has been out on lots of mountaineering adventures with Roxanne and Dave, friends from the ACC. Indeed, I think Mike knows more about the hills, peaks, lakes, and valleys of southern Vancouver Island’s Sooke Hills Wilderness area than anyone. Not content to rest on Sooke Wilderness laurels, Mike and company have been out in the mountains towards Port Alberni and the West Coast of Vancouver Island too.

I spent a good portion of the summer working with The Mountain Legacy Project (mountainlegacy.ca). MLP is a research project out of UVic that seeks to re-photograph 100+ year old survey photos of the mountain environment in Western Canada. We find the exact spot that the original surveyors stood and re-take the same image. Then, back in the lab, we overlay the new image on the old and look for signs of landscape change. The results are amazing – especially in showing dramatic evidence of ecosystem and climate change.

Mary on Mt. Shatch: amazed
this spruce tree is alive at
9000 ft.

The work was as exciting and as fun as anything I have ever done. I spent July and August in Alberta on the Eastern Slopes of the Rocky Mountains travelling from Kananaskis Country (a bit south and west of Calgary) to the Willmore Wilderness west of Grande Cache. We also made a stop in BC’s Mt. Robson Provincial Park. I was part of an all-woman team of three and we always got our photo – even if it involved jumping out of hovering helicopters, epic bushwhacking in the dark of night, and scrambling along high-mountain ledges.

Mike on Richard and Melanie's
roof.

While I was gallivanting in the Rockies, Mike was working as a roofer back in Victoria. He helped our friends Richard and Melanie re-roof their home. It was difficult work, but did Mike ever look buff and tanned when I got back! I guess hoisting those huge sheets of plywood around was better than spending time in the gym.

Fritz in Janice's garden.

On the family front Mike’s Mom Marion and brother Dave became temporary residents of Victoria when they moved here for five months over the summer. As well as spending time with Mike, Marion also got to spend time with Eoin, her youngest son who also lives in town. I paid a flying visit to my sister Janice this summer – just time for lunch, a quick catch up on all things Revelstoke, and a chance to play with Fritz and Amy, Janice’s adorable pug-dogs. Janice’s home and garden are her pride and joy, and so they should be: her place is a classic mountain chalet – cosy and comfortable with stunning mountain views

Fall was glorious this year with late September and early October presenting some outstanding light. I made it to Banff for a photography workshop.

Lake Louise

Moraine Lake - Larch Madness in Sept.

Oak Bay waterfront - October, 2012

  

John, Lisa, Mary, Mike: East Sooke Park

Back in Victoria Mike and I got out with friends Lisa and John for some local rambles. We walked in the Sooke Hills and hiked the Coastal Trail in East Sooke Park. 

The new year is here in a few days. Mike and I hope it holds health, happiness, and heaps of adventure for you and yours. Here’s to 2013 – and another chance for us to get it right!

All the best
Mary and Mike

Flowers and more

It has been a LONG TIME since I've written or posted pictures here on The Back of Beyond. It's not that I've forsaken the great outdoors, but I did toy with the idea of simply leaving this site as an homage to our time in Bonnie Scotland. I went so far as to get another web address and start up a new site -- however, something about this one just kept calling me back. So, here I am, ready for another season of being amazed by the beauty and diversity in our environment.  Needless to say, I don't think I'll be disappointed!

This spring I've been focusing on wildflower photography -- yes, even MORE than usual. Although I have many shots of native wildflowers, I thought I would try to create special images that shine a light into the heart of the flower. Images that reveal the intricate structure and beauty of the plant: a kind of visual exploration of  "wildflowerness".

So far it has been a deeply rewarding process -- I spend hours tramping through the hills with friends, stopping to get photos where I can. This works very well because everyone on the hike is another set of eyes on the look out for wildflowers, lichen, moss, shrubs, trees, views -- you name it. But, this spring I've been looking on these rambles as flower reconazance missions. The true intensity happens when I head out by myself, spending hours schlepping tripod and camera into the back of beyond and focusing on a few species of flowers.

I've been very pleased with the result, and feel like I am coming to learn more and more about native wildflowers, especially those found in Southern Vancouver Island. I mean to create a special set of pages on this site with pictures of all I find separated by colour, family, size, and blooming time frame. But, for now, I thought I would highlight a few of the flowers that have really stirred my imagination.

Gold Star -- Crocidium multicaule I caught this early spring arrival on April 15 up on On Jocelyn Hill, in Gowlland Tod Provincial Park. This lovely little annual is an infrequent visitor here in Victoria. It is common on the east coast of southern Vancouver Island and on the adjacent Gulf Islands. One of the few places to see it in Victoria is up at "Crocidium corner" on Jocelyn Hill. View Crocidium Corner, Jocelyn Hill, Gowlland Tod Park. in a map.

Naked Broomrape -- Orobanche uniflora What a strange common name! This parasitic herb doesn't photosynthesize. Instead, it sends out root-like growths, which attach to the roots of nearby sedum, saxifrage, sunflowers, or other plants. Once attached to a host, the broomrape robs the host of water and nutrients. In this case the O. uniflora plants are parasitizing sedum. We came upon this plant in early May out on the McDonald "Bumps", on John Peak. View a map of Mt. McDonald

Other wildflowers of note (thus far!)

Native wildflowers of Southern Vancouver Island slide show:

Collies, clouds, and climbing: A misty day on Ben Cruachan

The last day of August, 2011 wasn't the fairest day in the month, but we took what we were given and headed out from Glasgow to the north end of mighty Loch Awe. Our goal was a ridge-walk circuit of Coire Cruachan taking in two Munros: Stob Diamh (pronounced Stop Daff, 998m/3274ft, which means Stag Peak) and Ben Cruachan ( 1126m/3694 ft, Mountain of Mounds). We spent about 7 hours on a 16 km ramble along the impressive ridges and tops that make up this group -- and came in for a few surprises before the day was done.

Cruachan group on the left (2007)
Ben Cruachan and Stob Diamh with their
heads in the clouds

Cruachan has been a mountain of interest for me since I first saw it back in 2007. Mike and I, along with friends Jan and Alan, were doing a fall bike ride through the Western Islands and Highlands. In comparison to the August weather of 2011, the fall of 2007 in Scotland was positively tropical, featuring several days IN A ROW of blue sky, sun, and temperatures of at least 18C. On one of those days the four of us were cycling around the west side of Loch Awe and I said "if the sun is still shining after lunch, I'm going in for a skinny dip -- I don't care who sees me!". The weather cooperated and at a grassy beach just south of the small town of Dalavich we all shucked off our clothes and jumped into the loch for a paddle. While cavorting sunny-side-up in the middle of the lake I looked north and caught my first glimpse of Ben Cruachan. It provided a fitting crown to sapphire-blue Loch Awe. That night, over a wee dram, I opined to Mike as how I'd sure like to make it to the top of that mountain.

If the 2011 weather had been better I'm sure we wouldn't have left Cruachan until the end of August -- not after getting such tantalizing views of its airy ridges and granite slabs from our early adventures on the likes of Ben Lui and Ben More. I was always waiting for the "perfect" Cruachan day -- the day when visibility would be so good we'd be able to see all the way from the island of Jura in the south to Ben Nevis and beyond in the north. Sadly, that day didn't come for us on this trip. We seemed to spend those "perfect" days on other mountains, with Cruachan always some place on the western horizon.

Aug 31, when we finally said "now or never", was a cloud-spattered day. I never got the much-hoped-for long vistas, and the shifting mists that boiled up over some of the northern ridges made for a few moments of challenging navigation. But, peek-a-boo glimpses of green and gold slopes and towering red granite walls were more than sufficient to focus our attention and keep us well entertained.

We started our tour right at loch-side and ascended up bracken and heather-covered slopes to the foot of a huge reservoir that covers the bottom of Coire Cruachan. We opted to head east around the reservoir, making for the bealach at Lairig Torran (Pass of Mounds). On our way up the grassy slopes above the water we were treated to the sights and sounds of a shepherd and his working dogs bringing sheep down from the heights. Calls of "come-bye", "away to me", and "that'll do" echoed through the hills, causing the dogs to wheel left and right around their charges. Eventually Mike and I had six Border Collies gambolling around our feet - obviously filled with delight at being out in the mountains, bossing sheep around.

After parting ways with the shepherd and his dogs our next delight was watching a herd of 10 red deer bound across the slopes below us. The scent and sound of the collies disturbed them and they must have thought it best to make tracks across the landscape to some place not so "doggy" . We continued up to Stob Garbh (Stob Garav - Rough Nose Peak), and then on to Stob Diamh. At this point the mist boiled in and we were locked in a silver fog with limited visibility. I was very nervous to continue, especially as I knew the steep, bouldery slopes of Drochaid Ghlas (Droch-itch Glass - Grey Bridge) with its narrow ridge trail around the sheer walls of Coire Caorach (Corra Coe-rach - Corrie of the Rowan Berries) would be next. But, the mist ebbed and we were drawn on, especially entranced by the deep red granite slabs overhanging Caorach.

There were some interesting sections on the route to work our way through. A large slab of granite on the eastern side of the Cruachan final summit ridge proved to be a bit slippery for us, so we had to manoeuvre below the outcrop -- some steep down-climbing, but quite do-able. And then we had to re-ascend the ridge. I hate giving up the high ground so there was a steady stream of rumbling from me for the entire detour! Especially annoying because on a dry day the slab would certainly have been grippy enough to hold us securely on a crossing.

The clouds surged up again as we made our way up the final pitch to the summit of Cruachan. I thought we might have to make do with no vistas at all, but, as we perched on the narrow top, the fog swirled out of sight and gave us keyhole views down into the reservoir and to Loch Awe in the distance. Unfortunately, the outlook north into Loch Etive and beyond was completely obscured -- we only had teasing glimpses of Etive from the summit of Drochaid Ghlas.

Our day on Cruachan ended with a steeply rolling descent to the bealach just below Meall Cuanail (Myowl Coo-anil, Hill of the Flocks). From here it was down directly to the west side of the reservoir. No more collies, deer, or other surprises of nature for us, but we did see two rather ill-prepared hill walkers decide to turn back. And we were happy they did -- Scottish mountains may be small in stature in comparison to our BC giants, but they are due every bit as much respect by those who venture out into them. Certainly, on this wind-pulled misty day Mike and I were more than pleased to be able to pay our respects, and finally put my "naked" ambition of standing on Ben Cruachan's summit to rest.

Weather moving in

Map of our route:

View Ben Cruachan - Aug 31, 2011 in a larger map

More pictures from Ben Cruachan.

Riding the Glasgow Parks - a tour of some Dear Green Places, Aug 20, 2011

View over Glasgow from Queen's Park

*Just in case people have the impression that all Mike and I did in the Scottish outdoors was climb the odd hill I thought I'd write a story about one of our more interesting bike rides - a self-guided tour through some of the parks of Glasgow. I think it's fair to say that Glasgow has a love affair with green space. With over 90 parks in the city, Glasgow more than lives up to its "Dear Green Place" moniker. Our 70 km ride wasn't able to take in all of the parks, but those we did make a stop at all had at least one compelling feature. And those features ranged from 330 million year old tree stumps to daring art nouveau architecture to stunning gardens and views -- all for free.

The route plan was largely put together by Mike. His long walks through various Glasgow neighbourhoods gave him good insight into how to get from one park to the next without going through too much traffic. Also, Mike mastered the Clyde Tunnel -- the key to quickly getting from one side of Glasgow to the other. About 1km long, it crosses under the River Clyde quite a bit downstream from the bridges. Cyclists and pedestrians are separated from cars and have their own tunnels, but it can be a devil to find the entrance if you are newcomers to the Glasgow cycling scene.

Our route was circular, starting and ending in our Hillhead neighbourhood. Hillhead is very close to the University of Glasgow, so we travelled west on some of the bike routes through the area to our first stop: Victoria Park and its amazing Fossil Grove. The park was named for Queen Victoria's Golden Jubilee and has some beautiful formal gardens and ponds. But, the thing that drew us to the park was a chance to see the fossilized remains of a forest that grew here 330 million years ago. At that time the terrain Glasgow sits on was located someplace close to the equator and huge forests of giant clubmoss ruled the land. The remains of this forest were found in 1887 when the park was being created. Today you can see the huge fossilized stumps in situ from a viewing platform in the park. Amazing to look at something that old in such detail.

From Victoria we headed for the Clyde Tunnel and nipped by Elder Park in Govan. We were not headed to a park, per se, but to get a view of Glasgow's latest triumph - the Riverside Museum. We were there on June 21st, opening day, and have visited a few times since. It holds the collection of the old Museum of Transportation, but in a new, purpose-built hall. I think the best view of the building itself is from across the Clyde at the Govan public wharf -- and that is where we pulled up.

330 million year old tree

Next on the agenda was Bellahouston Park, but we had to cross the M8 motorway to get there. Mike researched the route, and, using the GoBike Glasgow bike map and a bit of navigational expertise got us across on a walkway.

I think Bellahouston is my favourite Glasgow park. It is big (159 acres) and has outstanding views from its highest point. But, the thing I love the most is the walled garden. It is like stepping into a calm oasis of colour and light. The walls cut both wind and sound -- it is a place where you could imagine spending a restful hour reading or sketching.

Riverside Museum and the Glenlee tall ship

Bellahouston is also famous for the Charles Rennie Macintosh masterpiece - House for an Art Lover. Designed by CRM in 1901, it was not built until the late 1980s. It is a wonderful mix of art nouveau, art deco, and Scottish baronial styles -- curves and lines abound. Somehow it works sitting next to the formalism of the walled garden.

I wish I could have been in Glasgow in 1938 to see the Empire Exhibition which was held in Bellahouston. The pictures from the event paint a scene of modernity and culture fitting into the park setting. 200 pavilions and palaces from all across the British Empire -- in hindsight it must have seemed like a happy summer holiday before the cold winter winds of the Second World War blew across Scotland and the rest of the world.

Mike in front of Pollock House

From Bellahouston we wound our way through a residential area and across the M77 to enter Pollock Country Park. This huge green space holds Pollock House -- a grand old pile of a place alongside the Whitecart Water, the Old Stable Courtyard, and the Burrell Collection. We visited the Burrell Collection earlier - an outstanding assemblage of art, archaeology, and architecture from Sir William Burrell, a rich and eclectic early 20th century collector. The Old Stable Courtyard was having a Highland Cattle show the day we rode through, so we got to see some Highland Coos close up. They are not as menacing as they look.

From Pollock Park it was on to the glass conservatories and city views of Queen's Park. We rode through some elegant Shawlands tenements and had a steep uphill pull to the entrance gates. This park has a reptile house and an aviary as well as a plant conservatory. But, the thing we were most interested in at Queen's Park was the view out over the city. We could see right back to our Glasgow University neighbourhood, and beyond to the Campsie Fells and Dumgoyne hill, above the city.

We then cut down to Linn Park and up to King's Park to visit the sundial. From here we rode north east through Rutherglen to cross the Clyde on the Dalmarnock Road bridge. Next up was Tollcross Park and another glasshouse conservatory. Tollcross has many formal gardens and gazebos, and lots of paths for bikes and pedestrians.

Another port of call on this route was tiny Molendinar Park (at least we think it is called Molendinar) on Craighead Ave in the Royston neighbourhood. This park is only one of two places where you can see the Molendinar Burn. This is the original "Dear Green Place" -- the creek on which Glasgow was founded centuries ago. Indeed, it runs directly to the east of the Cathedral, although today it is covered over for almost its entire length. It can also be seen for a few metres down in the Cathedral precinct, close to the corner of Duke and John Knox St.

Mary in Robroyston Park

Robroyston Park, a mostly undeveloped green space, was next on the tour. Here we gained wonderful views out over the Campsie Fells, once again seeing Dumgoyne hill. Springburn Park, with its ruined Winter Garden conservatory and swooping paths was our most northerly park. We also visited Sighthill Cemetery for stunning views over the city.

From here it was home via George's Square in the downtown and Hengler's Circus pub on Sauchiehall St. We barely made it through the downtown, dodging film crews and road blocks because the new Brad Pitt movie -- something to do with zombies -- was shooting in George's Square. And, of course, any place for a pint is always good for an hour's diversion. We sailed home in the early evening, traversing Kelvingrove, the last park on our route. This park, with broad terraced paths, flower gardens, play areas, and the famous Kelvingrove Museum, was our "home" park. We knew every path by heart, so it was an easy and comfortable ride back to the flat.

All in all, cycling the parks of Glasgow is a very enjoyable way to roll through a summer's day -- not only did the ride have a theme, but we got an up-close view of this diverse and fascinating city.

*As of Sept 7 Mike and I are back home in Victoria, but I still have a few more stories to tell about our time in Scotland, so there will be a few more posts on the blog.

The map of our Glasgow Parks route:

View A bike ride through Glasgow's Parks: Aug 20, 2011 in a larger map

More pictures of our Glasgow Parks ride.

A Wee Stravaig through the Crianlarich Hills

In the Scots language of Robbie Burns "oo stravaig" means "we wander", and, as our time in Scotland comes to an end, I can honestly say Mike and I have done our share of wandering. One of our favourite areas to undertake a wee stravaig turned out to be the hills above the West Highland village of Crianlarich. There are seven Munros (mtn. over 914m/3000ft) accessible from town and we've been on all of them. From massive Ben More in the east to craggy Beinn Chabhair in the west, hill walkers in Crianlarich are spoiled for choice.

We've been to the area three times and accessed all start and end points via the bus and Shank's mare. Ben More and Stob Binnein brought us out for a beautiful day in early June (reported on in A Scotland Season - June 3). We next visited on Aug 5th, when we bagged three Munros: Beinn Chabhair (meaning Antler Mountain, pronounced Ben Chavir, 933m/3060ft), Beinn a'Chroin (Mountain of Danger, Ben a Chraw-in, 946m/3103ft) and An Caisteal (The Castle, An Cash-tyal, 995m/3264ft). Our third visit was on Aug 17 when we did Cruach Ardrain (High Mound, 1046m/3431ft) and Beinn Tulaichean (Hill of hills, Ben too-leach-an, 946m/3104ft).

Mist rising off Cruach Ardrain

The difference between the June and August visits was huge -- June 3rd was probably the warmest day of the year. It might have got to 15C in the mountains, but was 24 or 25C in the valley. Our August visits, while full of beautiful light, rising mist, and splashing burns, were more akin to hiking in fall -- a chill was in the air.

Another difference - More and Binnein are frequently travelled. Unless one climbs these mountains in a downpour, other hill walkers will be a common sight. Actually, this is Scotland, and just a downpour wouldn't keep the Scots out of the hills. Indeed, on our worst day of hiking (July 5), when we were forced down from Ben Vane (the smallest of the Munros) by poor weather we encountered an older fellow on the trail. He had already scrambled up and was on his way down. On passing us by he noted "Aye, it's a wee bit damp today, but a fine walk for all that".

But, I digress -- More and Binnein, with their ease of access, and straightforward, if somewhat strenuous approaches, are hiking magnets, while the other five are not so busy. Probably because they are difficult to access and have some tricky navigation and/or scrambling components to work through. Indeed, on our Aug 17 trip we saw no one in eight hours of hiking -- and the day was stunning.

Mary, about to be entertained on the Beinn a'Chroin ridge

Mike and I are getting quite good at navigation and route finding in the Scottish hills. Both the Aug 5th and 17th trips had us hauling out the British Ordinance Survey map (borrowed from the library in Glasgow -- the libraries in Glasgow are OUTSTANDING -- but that is another story), the compass, and the GPS so we could plan how to get from one ridge to another. We even managed to do this a few times in mist and cloud.

People have asked what I find so entrancing about the Scottish hills, especially when we have such majestic mountains back home. Of course, I love the Selkirks, Monashees, and Rockies, the mountains of my youth in British Columbia's interior. And I look forward with great anticipation to reuniting with my old friends, the Sooke Hills of southern Vancouver Island. But I know I'll miss the amazing washes of light through clouds, the blue-on-blue ranks of tops marching into the horizon, and the understated challenge of getting up and down. Sure, these are not high mountains, but, as with so many enjoyable pursuits, size isn't everything! Indeed, when you read in a Scottish mountain guidebook that a steep cliff "provides an interesting diversion", or a narrow ridge "posses little difficulty" get ready to be entertained. Certainly, a few steps on Ardrain and Beinn a'Chroin fell into the "interesting diversion" category.

All in all, Mike and I have been endlessly entertained on our hill walking expeditions thus far, and hope to get in several more jaunts before winging back to BC. I'll be sorry to leave these mountains, but will look forward to putting Scottish-based rambling skills to work in my home mountains. My goal will be to find an interesting diversion on each and every stravaig; get ready everyone, I'll be bringing a wee bit o'the Bonnie Highlands of Sco'land back in both my feet and my heart.







Maps
Aug 5th - Beinn Chabhair, Beinn a'Chroin, An Casteal

View Beinn Chabhair, Beinn a'Chroin, An Casteal in a larger map

Aug 17 - Cruach Ardrain and Beinn Tulaichean

View Cruach Ardrain and Beinn Tulaichean: Aug 17, 2011 in a larger map


More pictures from Chabhair, a'Chroin, and Casteal
More pictures from Ardrain and Tulaichean.

Munro Two Step – Hill Walking in the Highlands with Lisa and John

Lisa and John on the summit ridge - Stuc a'Chroin

Saturday July 30th was about as pretty a day as Scotland can produce – sunny, but not too hot; breezy enough to keep the midgies down, but not windy enough to blow you off a mountain ridge; and crystal sharp air for excellent visibility. I’m pleased to report that we did not waste it. Lisa, John, Mike, and I got in the rental car and made tracks for the northern slopes of Ben Vorlich, which rise almost directly out of lovely Loch Earn in the Central Highlands.

We did make one necessary stop before the hill though – the Glenturret Distillery, just outside Crieff. We were driving along, John at the helm, when he stops, executes a highway U-turn in the best Scottish tradition and wheels us into Glenturret. John visited this very distillery many years ago on his first trip to Scotland and had fond, if foggy, memories of the place. Lucky for us, because he did acquire a bottle of fine, smooth 10 year old single-malt, some of which accompanied us up into the mountains that very day.

Lisa on the north east
ridge of Ben Vorlich

Ben Vorlich and its sister peak, Stuc a’Chroin are both Munros and have been on our radar for some time. Mike and I have seen them from many of our other rambles and hoped to make it up to the top of both. They seemed a perfect fit for Lisa and John too, with Vorlich being a sure thing and a’Chroin being do-able if conditions were good.

Sitting boldly over the south side of Loch Earn, Ben Vorlich (985 m / 3231 ft) is one of the most popular Munros for hill walkers to attempt. It has a number of approaches, all quite straightforward. We came up what is arguably the most direct route – due south from Ardvorlich farm along Glen Vorlich, then taking the sprawling north east ridge to the summit. We shared the route and summit with a number of other hill walkers, children, and not a few dogs.

John coming around
the buttress on a'Chroin

Stuc a’Chroin (975 m / 3,198 ft), however, was another matter entirely. It was about 2:30 pm when we left the summit of Vorlich and made our way down into Bealach an Dubh Chorein (pronounced Bee-lach an Doo Chorrin, meaning “Pass of the Black Corries”) between Vorlich and a’Chroin. Would we have time to do a’Chroin? The route up was steep and scrambly, heading around a buttress of blocky rock. Would everyone give it a try, or would Lisa and I possibly stay back while the fellows made a dash for the summit?

With an agreed upon drop-dead time of 5:30 (time at which we must stop and turn back) we all decided to give it a go. After a few difficult bits coming up the north east gully around the buttress, everyone was on the summit by about 4:30. We gloried in having the broad top entirely to ourselves. Stuc a’Chroin, which means “Peak of Danger” in Gaelic, is technically a lot more challenging than the wide and accommodating tourist track up Ben Vorlich. We were justifiably pleased with ourselves in making both summits, but a’Chroin was especially sweet. Not only was the view outstanding in the soft light of late afternoon, but I was proud of what we had accomplished – good choices, well executed, in an uncertain situation.

Cheers - on Stuc a'Chroin

Our day called for a celebration so John brought out the Glenturret single-malt, complete with shot glasses. We stood on the summit of a’Chroin and toasted our achievement – a Munro Two Step for John and Lisa, and Munros number 14 and 15 for Mike and me thus far.

We returned off Stuc a’Chroin from a small, steep notch in the north west ridge. It was a bit easier than going back down and around the north east buttress – but not by much! At the bottom of slope we began a relaxed contouring around the Dubh Chorein, over the north west ridge of Ben Vorlich, rejoining our original trail on the lower north east Vorlich ridge.

The light of evening was coming on, and I believe we were one of the last groups off the mountain. The trail that was so busy with people coming up was now busy with birds, sheep, and gurgling water. Loch Earn, and an evening dip to wash off the day’s exertions, drew us downwards. By 7:45 pm we were having a splash in the Loch, and by 8:00 were in the car on our way back to Glasgow. I think I am safe in considering this an officially seized day – Carpe Alba!

A map of our route:

View Ben Vorlich and Stuc a'Chroin in a larger map

More pictures from Ben Vorlich and Stuc a'Chroin.

Gambolling with Goats – our Ben Venue Romp, July 27, 2011



Ben Venue summit - John and Mike on top

 Friends Lisa and John arrived in Bonnie Sco’land on the afternoon of Monday, July 25. The weather was glorious so Mike and I didn’t waste any time in getting them out on a Scottish mountain. We selected beautiful Ben Venue for our first outing and by late Wednesday morning we were making our way up the lower slopes.

Lisa on the ridge to the eastern summit
(the Trig Point)

At 729 m (2391 ft) Ben Venue is not up to Munro height (over 3000 ft), but it is a Graham (Scottish mountain between 2000 and 2499 ft). In fact, it is the 53rd highest out of 224 Grahams in Scotland. But don’t be fooled by its small stature, Venue’s rugged character makes everyone earn their summit ridge views. And fantastic views they are too: lovely Loch Katrine wraps around the northern foot of the mountain; to the east are the aquamarine gems of Lochs Archay and Venachar; south are the green and gold plains of Stirling, the snub nose of Dumgoyne, and – if the day is clear – the towers of Glasgow; in the western distance line after line of craggy peaks dance into the blue curve of the sky.

Views from the eastern summit looking
south -- Dumgoyne left over Lisa's shoulder

This is the heart of the Trossachs – Rob Roy and Lady of the Lake country. As fine a walk as you could want to serve as introduction to the Scottish Highlands. Mike and I have been eager to get here for some time. Mike’s Grandfather, Ralph Whitney, climbed Ben Venue after the end of the First World War. It, along with lofty Ben Lomond, gave him an appreciation for the mountains that lasted a lifetime. Our hike gave Mike a chance to see first hand the views that must have greeted Ralph when he did this hike over 90 years ago. I wonder if Ralph glimpsed the steamship Sir Walter Scott plying the waters of Loch Katrine? She has been ferrying visitors up and down the loch since 1900.We saw her glide by as we looked on Katrine from the summit.

Even though the walk got a bit scrambly in places everyone made it up and down with no problem. John fairly trotted to the top, while Lisa was a bit slower, but just as sure-footed. This is a popular walk and we shared the lower part of the hill with several people, but we had the top pretty much to ourselves. Luckily, a group we chatted with lower down, but who came up a different way, approached the summit just as we were about to leave. We asked them about their route up the eastern side of Venue and one fellow hauled out his camera and showed wonderful, close-up pictures of goats. He took them on the way up – so, guess which way we decided to go back down!

Feral goats on Venue's eastern slopes

We romped down Venue’s rolling eastern ridge and soon enough had goats galore – probably about 20 in total. Apparently, feral goats have been known and written about in this territory since the time of Robert the Bruce. This particular population probably stems from a mixture of old stock roaming the hills and dairy goats released in 1918 after the Great War. As we approached several rather severe looking old billy-goats stood guard over their harems and gave us the eye if we got too close. But we all got a good look and took lots of pictures. Mike even tried to stare one down – guess who won!

About this time I began to worry about letting our B&B know that we were going to be delayed – we spent quite a bit of time enjoying the mountain – so I hurried down to the car park where I hoped to get the lend of someone’s cell phone. Sure enough, a Good Samaritan let me use his phone to call our hostess. While waiting for Lisa, John, and Mike to come down I pulled out my copy of Rob Roy – how perfect to enjoy Sir Walter Scott’s book in the very place it describes!

Our day in the Trossachs wasn’t finished when everyone got off the mountain. John saw a body of water close by (Loch Achray) and felt compelled to jump in. Nobody else joined in until a few minutes later when a suitable lay-by (Scottish for “place to somewhat safely pull the car over”) was sighted on the shores of Loch Venachar. Then it was John, Mike, and me for the water – Lisa was the official photographer. I won’t go into detail about who wore what into and out of the water – you’ll have to ask Lisa for the photos!

As evening closed we pulled into Lumsdain House, our farm-stay B&B, alongside the Union Canal close to the town of Linlithgow. Our hostess was waiting with tea and shortbread, and we added to the repast with a champagne picnic dinner out in the back yard – hens at our feet and cows lowing over the fence – a perfect end to a fine Scottish day.

A map of our route:

View Ben Venue in a larger map

More pictures from our romp on Ben Venue.