Sunday, 23 April 2017

Dun Caan - Seasides

I love coastal mountains. There's something very northerly and rugged about peaks that plunge into the sea. And if they're covered with snow or if the sun is out, creating aquamarine pools in the shallows, then all the better. I also love hopping on and off the ferries on Scotland's west coast. A wee ferry ride adds something special to a destination. Perhaps it makes it seem more exotic because you can only get there by boat. How lucky then that the little peak of Dun Caan on Raasay combines both of these things.

Raasay is an island that drifts offshore of another island, Skye. My ferry journey there was a short hop but as the boat pulled away from Sconser stunning views opened up. Behind us Skye's snow-covered peaks rose above the shore and to the north, a long way up the waters of the Sound of Raasay, was the rocky outline of the Storr on the Trotternish peninsula. 

Once the ferry had deposited us on Raasay, we walked along the deserted island roads and then picked a trail that followed an old tramway serving mines, now disused, above the main village. The tent was pitched at the top of the trail with a view back to the hills on Skye. Then we set out for Dun Caan.

A thin, boggy trail wound its way up and over open moor before eventually pulling over the last rise and rewarding us with a view of the bizarrely-shaped Dun Caan. It slopes steeply on one side, does a flat plateau at the top and then drops sheer on the other side in rocky crags. Mind you, the arrangement of the landscape here is generally quite strange. We crossed a rocky escarpment as a brief blizzard struck. It was broad on one side with big flat rocks like paving stones that made for good walking but on the other it gave way suddenly to vertical cliffs.

We found a path that had itself found a chink in the cliffs and descended to a lochan with a beach of black pebbles. You could see the gradations in the pebbles - fine and small at the water's edge but larger and rounded near the shore. 

From the lochan a path zig-zagged up through snow-dusted rocks to the top of Dun Caan. What a place to be that day. The snow-covered mountains of Skye stretched out to the west and on every side of us was sea, glinting and shimmering in the moments of sun. We marvelled at the sheer drop to the sea on the east side. If you dropped your lunchtime orange here, it would likely roll all the way into the water. And we watched swathes of steely blue snow clouds engulf the hills in bizzards and then move out across the sea itself.

Eventually we turned tail and retraced our steps to the tent. At the end of March it wasn't too late before the sun began to sink, touching the hills of Skye with gold and pink. The next morning we meandered back down through the woods and caught our ferry back across the sea to Skye. 

Fact File
Start/finish: Sconser ferry terminal, Skye
Route: From the ferry terminal walk along the road and hang right. At the next split take the left fork in the road signed for Fearns. Shortly after there are signs for the Miners Trail walk to the right. Follow this trail until eventually you cross the road again. Continue straight over and passed the old mine buildings. Where the track makes a sharp U turn and there are two footbridges, there is a sign for the path up to Dun Caan. The path is obvious as it crosses the moor and then climbs up the side of a rocky escarpment. At the far end an obvious path drops down to the lochan and then a very clear path climbs up Dun Caan. We retraced our steps to the footbridges and then returned by following the continuation of the trail where it's now known as the Burma Road trail and it heads back down towards the ferry.
Tip: There is a great leaflet in the ferry terminal detailing all the walks on Raasay.

Saturday, 15 April 2017

Laggan - Littlun

Binnein Shuas is a small mountain on the south shore of Loch Laggan. It's only 746m high but it's definitely a mountain. At least it was on the day we climbed it when squally snow showers driven on a gale force wind battered its knobbly, rocky upper parts, imparting a more challenging, edgy character to this little peak. 

Between squalls the view was sublime though. Sapphire-blue lochs and snow-streaked mountains below a sky that was blue then black then blue again. The only other streaks of white in the landscape were the whooper swans on the water, pondering, or perhaps reconsidering, their flight to Iceland.

Binnein Shuas proved to be easier to get up than down as we picked our way down a steep gully in thickening snow. A walk through a whiteout world put us back at the tent.

Fact File
Start/finish: Moy by Loch Laggan
Transport: Car on this occasion using a large layby on the A86 about 1km west of Moy Lodge. You could access the hill by bike from Dalwhinnie or Corrour train stations using off-road tracks.
Route: At the layby cross the bridge over the River Spean and hang left when the track splits. At the next track junction, turn left again towards the woods. We climbed the hill's northwest flank from our camp spot but it would less steep to use the southeast ridge. There's no path on this little visited hill but it's easy enough to pick your way through the rocky outcrops to the top. We dropped off the northeast side to walk back along the shores of Lochan na Hearba before picking up the track that heads back down to Moy and joins the outward route. 

Saturday, 1 April 2017

Bute - Doon the Watter

In more charming times than the ones we currently live in, there was a tradition for the working people of Glasgow to take a steamboat down the Clyde and holiday in places such as Dunoon and Rothesay which became popular seaside resorts. The habit was known as going “doon the watter”.  These days there’s only one of the old steamboats remaining but thanks to a network of trains and modern ferries, it’s still possible to go doon the watter. And that’s exactly what I did a few weekends back.

The train passed through the gloomy suburbs of Glasgow and deposited me and my friend, Graham, at Gourock where we went doon the watter on the Argyll Flyer, a small passenger ferry to Dunoon. As we crossed, the sea was ruffled and steely grey to match the skies overhead. I can never think of Dunoon without singing in my head the Sinatra song “Fly me to the Moon” because a friend of mine always use to say it with the words “fly me to Dunoon” instead. Highland Mary didn’t find that at all amusing as she stared down unmoved above the pier. Her statue commemorates Mary Campbell, a mistress of Robert Burns.

Off the water and on the bikes, we cycled west across the Cowal peninsula up and down ridiculously steep roads through a landscape that was surprisingly rugged and remote despite its proximity to the populations around the Clyde. At Colintraive we took to the water again as our Calmac ferry made the very short crossing of the Kyles of Bute. We rolled off on the other side on Bute, “the unexplored isle” as pronounced by the sign that welcomed us.

We set off exploring south down the only road at the top end of the island. In early March the nights still draw in fairly early so we were soon looking for a camp spot. We pulled off onto a forest track and made a steep climb up into the trees to find a lovely spot at the edge of the woods. There was a view back down to the ferry, still chugging back and forth across the water, and as the light faded we enjoyed surround-sound bird song. Once darkness set in, we sat nursing mugs of hot tea and watched the lights of the ferry going to and fro on the inky black water. The constant throb of its engine drifted up through the night air to our camp.

The springtime sun made an appearance as we explored the rest of the island the following day. As we pedalled south, to our right were the mountains of Arran, looking hazy and misty, and teasing us with brief glimpses of their rocky upper parts.  Bute itself is quite a contrast. In the north of the island our road crossed hilly moorland but in the south we found ourselves cycling through lush farmland. At times the pungent smell of fresh manure would almost make you pass out and we found ourselves pedalling faster to get away from it. We stopped regularly as there’s so much to see  on Bute – sandy bays, ruined chapels, Bronze age hill forts and standing stones, such as the prehistoric stone circle at Kingarth.

The highlight of Bute however, is not the hand-cut chips on the seafront in Rothesay but the wonderful St Blane’s Chapel. The chapel is part of a monastery dating from the 6th century and you really get an idea even today of the expanse of the place with the main chapel and many of the boundary walls relatively intact. You can still see in part the vallum wall which marked the border between the monastery and the secular world beyond. To the rear of the complex is a large boulder with an oblong hole that once held a large cross. It’s filled up now with rainwater and previous visitors had dropped coins into it like a wishing well. These old structures are set in a natural amphitheatre with protection around three sides afforded by a rocky outcrop, the roll of the hills and stands of tall trees. 

But the most wonderful thing about St Blane’s Chapel is its secretive existence up in the hills, like a miniature Machu Picchu. We arrived by cycling a long way down a single-track road then making a winding walk on a wee path steeply uphill above the sea and the fields below. The chapel is completely hidden from view until the very last moment so it’s a real surprise and utter delight to come upon the place.

St Blane’s is at the bottom of Bute and we had to get back up to the island’s main town, Rothesay, to catch the homeward ferry. We cycled the dirt track called the Moor Road which cut high across the central spine of the southern part of the island. It was rough and muddy in places but was lined by yellow gorse and with a blue sky above, you couldn’t grumble. The route dropped into Rothesay via the causeway of Loch Fad, part of the Highland Boundary fault line that had filled with water over the millennia.  We rolled into Rothesay and onto the late afternoon Calmac ferry that would take us back “up the watter”.

Fact File
Start: Dunoon, using the train from Glasgow Central to Gourock. The ferry from Gourock to Dunoon meets the train and leaves right next to the platform.
Finish: Wemyss Bay having taken the ferry from Rothesay on Bute. A train goes from Wemyss Bay (beautiful station) back to Glasgow Central.

Route: From Dunoon we cycled the A885 north and then took the B836 west – it has some stiff climbs on it upwards of 20%. We then took the A886 south but diverted quickly onto the delightful and empty B886 to Colintraive. We continued south on the A886 on Bute. The woods on the right soon after the ferry provided a good campspot. We then took the A884 down the west side of the island. Just before Kingarth a single track roads keeps going south to St Blane’s at its end. We cycled up to Rothesay on the A884 but took the Moor Road to the left about 2km after Kingarth – the start is beside the war memorial. The track was mostly good but with some muddy sections and one very rocky but short section. It pops out on the B881 where we turned right and then took the first left to cycle up to and over the causeway at Loch Fad. At the other side, turn right to head into Rothesay.