What! Two consecutive days of sunshine – Wahay the Intrepids were Stepping out again., this time off to Rannoch Moor and Glencoe. Most of the time we are pretty lucky with our day trips, however, lately we have been having mini adventures. In my previous blog I mentioned I had a problem with my car, the battery had gone flat. Today, my car decided that it no longer liked the exhaust tail pipe and promptly parted company with it – in the middle of Callander a well-known tourist spot in Stirlingshire. The village is one of the gateways to the Trossachs and also the main route to Crianlarich the gateway to the north (Oban or Fort William). To get to Fort William you need to cross Rannoch Moor, then through the pass at Glencoe. You know you are getting near the moor a
ss you leave the village of Bridge of Ochry you cross a bridge and start to climb up to the moor at the top of the climb is a lovely view-point and coincidentally (in summer) there is an enterprising street trader selling hot drinks etc. from his wagon. We have travelled this route many times, and each time the moor has presented a different ambiance/mood. In Rain or mist it is eerie, on cloudless moonless nights you can see the heavens. In snow it has a beauty all to itself. Depending on the light and time of year you may find yourself along the road of long forgotten period of time. On this trip the moor gave us a friendly face.
From the moor you can also see what to some is the iconic mountain in the pass of Glencoe – Buachaille Etive Mòr, the great herdsman of Etive. There is an iconic spot where photographers head to capture images of The Buachaille. Just after you cross the second steel girder bridge as you leave the great moor you turn to the left heading down a single track road for Glen Etive. Warning travelling this route is not for the fainthearted, it is single track, with abundant passing places. For those brave and intrepid travellers, it is a route worth taking as you travel trough the Glen to Loch Etive. However, just before you cross a small bridge, at the left there is ample parking for three cars. You park here, cross the road and walk over the boggy ground to come to a waterfall and this is where you take the iconic shots of the Buachaille.
Whilst sitting in the car the Chorus of a modern Scottish folk song entered my head….
For these are my mountains, And this is my glen
The braes of my childhood, Will know me again
No land’s ever claimed me, Tho’far I did roam
For these are my mountains, And I’m going home
All nations have a history founded on blood. No nation has been born or moulded without pain. Scotland is no exception, from the days of William Wallace until 1746 this small nation saw plenty of that as a power struggle went on between the Stuarts and William and Mary of Orange. Glencoe is forever linked with one such bloody incident, which has been imortalised or even romaticised in song. The chorus is well known :
Oh cruel is the snow that sweeps Glencoe
And covers the grave o’ Donald
And cruel was the foe that raped Glencoe
And murdered the house o’ MacDonald
Whilst Glencoe is not my birthplace, it is a place I find my soul. It was surprising how quickly time had passed, I could have sworn we had only been there an hour, to my surprise we had been there 5 hours time for tea. We headed to the village of Glencoe, the site of the “Glencoe Massacre”. It is also the site of the Memorial to McIain, clan chief of the McDonalds of Glencoe and his clan.
We have a tale in Scotland, we have a few to be honest, this one concerns the creation of the Glens and Lochs with ample scenery – The Angles gathered round The Lord to praise his creation of the land. Suddenly one spoke up – Lord, do you not think it unfair that the people of this land have such bounties as, sweet clean water, peat to filter the water and create the Water of life, which the may sip as they enjoy the view. The Lord replied – You are right but wait till you what my adversary will do…. It came to pass that a small insect was let loose on this fair land – it was called the midge. It is Scotland’s biological weapon, I have seen grown men cry when they have been bitten by a swarm. Take heed visitor, use insect repellant if you are going near water in summer. I forgot, and as I type this blog, 3 days after my visit, my legs are covered in the little red marks which itch with great enthusiasm. Och weel, even paradise has its little devils..
Link to my images of this trip on Facebook
