The Devil's Stiarcase

Our top-of-the-line B and B, provides not only fluffy-spa-like robes, but dinner, if one desires. Of this offering we took advantage last night. Fresh trout (Jerry Anne) and salmon (me), certainly beat pub food. An extravagant breakfast that surpassed the deliciousness of dinner, fortified us well for the Devil's Staircase.

First, another quiz. (Answer at the end.) What is this:






On the way to the famous landmark, as one looks to the left, one sees:




And to the right:




And straight ahead:




Before the ascent, an urgent roadside stop:





But, awww, dandelions brighten a corner of the abandoned wreck:





The Devil's Stair case is not devilishly difficult nor does it have any stairs. But it was gratifying to reach the top:





Jerry Anne heading for some stepping stones:




A gorge:




Is this a gorgeous display of daisies, or what?




And we thought we had left the bluebells behind at Loch Lomand:




Answer to the quiz. Yeah, I know. It is the same as the last one!






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Bridge of Orchy to Kings House, sort of

Three nights at Ewich House, from which place we were taxied to our starting point for the morning's walk, or picked up in the afternoon, were lots of fun. The owner, whose affect made you want to salute and say, "Yes, SIR!" was actually most accommodating, efficient, and thoughtful.

While there, we had dinner a the local pub with other walkers, one evening with a couple from Amsterdam, and the next, with a couple from Norway, all of whom spoke extremely good English. The time was cheerful and comraderie-ish.

Today, much of the scenery was eerily bleak and dramatic against stunning skies:






In case you are wondering what it looks like to do a long-distance walk carrying all your gear, meet Joe:





And this is what your legs can look like after a while, even it you don't carry all your gear, because Joe is carrying the tent:





A big cairn, strangely marking nothing obvious:





Another view, one with water yonder:




Sometimes, ya just gotta stop and take a rest, as these guys from the Czech Republic demonstrate:





A view from one side of Ba Bridge:





And from the other:





As we approached the Kings House Hotel, we were surprised by some red deer. Being in the process of shedding their winter coats, they are mangy, so all their beautiful redness not not show through yet:




And of course a buck was part of the group:





Although we walked to Kings House, we are not staying there. We are staying in Kinlochleven, the destination for tomorrow's walk. Having arrived early, we decided to catch the 3:18 bus to Glencoe Village. We shlepped to the bus stop and waited and waited and waited and waited even longer in the freezing freezing cold for the bus that never came, so back to the hotel we trudged, and called for our ride.


Whilst waiting, we met these good-natured guys, who were also waiting for a ride to Kinochleven, having, like us, broken a 21 mile stretch into two days. They claimed to be The Beetles because their names are John, Paul, and George, but Ringo is really Mark. See the fellow on the right? He boasted that he holds the record for being the most obese person ever to have climbed Kilimanjaro, and that since he reached the summit, the mountain is not quite so high as it was before his ascent.





Our B and B for tonight and tomorrow is luxurious. The beds have super thick quilts and pillows, the room is spacious and bright, and something I have never seen before in a B and B, fluffy bathrobes are provided, as if this were a spa or something.

Here is the view from our bathroom window:






Except for yesterday, we are still being favoured with excellent weather, so the walk continues to be easy. Tomorrow, we have "The Devil's Staircase" to contend with, but it is a short day, so how hard could it be?


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A Short Day-Make That Two- and Off The Trail

Nine miles in fine weather, through gorgeous scenery feels like a short stroll, and in fact, today's walk was essentially a half day. No drama, but still, much prettiness to see on the way. For example, this bridge:




And whoa, what a tunnel!




Shamrocks in flower:




And here are some dancing on a log:




Snow atop a Munro (Just guessing--a Munro is a Scottish hill, which is over 3000 feet):




Our B and B, a very nice one, may I say, is a working farm. Here are a few of the residents. First meet the long-haired rabbit:




These ladies provide eggs for breakfast:




And this poor alpaca is fresh from the shearing:




People ask, "What do you DO on these walks? Doesn't it become boring?" No, not for a minute. Get out there and try it, I say. It is exhilarating. Following the nine miler was a just-shy-of twelve mile day, from Ewich House to The Bridge of Orchy. We made tracks today! Even though Jerry Anne had to stop and put plasters on her sore foot, in the pouring rain, yet, we reached our destination, soaked, before 1:00 p.m. Yes, it rained today, rather hard. Why has someone has not figured out how to make waterproof gloves? Why did the rain gear get soaked through? Why did the lovingly-sno-sealed boots admit water--well, that one I have answer to, we had to go through some too-deep water crossing a stream, but even so. Probably all these things came to pass so that there would be something to complain about. Oh--no photos today; hands too cold.


At the Bridge of Orchy hotel, divested of sopping wet gear, we plunked down for a hot latte (for Jerry Anne, a hot chocolate) and some lunch, then taxied back to Ewich House where a splendid hot bubble bath in a huge tub felt like, well, I am guessing, an expensive spa treatment. AND we have all afternoon to read, do crossword puzzles and, would you believe, relax?


Off the trail there is so much to do. Find the B and B, ask the essential questions: Do you have wi-fi? Is it possible to have breakfast at 7:30? Where is a good place to go for dinner? (Or else, import a picnic, which we do as often as is practical.) Then up to the room, and it is zip zip zip: Zip the side pocket of the pack, take out the camera. Zip the other side pocket, check the GPS, record the mileage, turn it off. Put it back. Zip zip again. Zip zip zip the suitcases. Zip open the pack with all the electrical supplies. Zip it shut (lest an adaptor get lost). Zip zip the lunch bags to throw away the refuse. Zip zip, the bag that has one's "evening wear." Zip the cosmetics--a hot shower is waiting. The chorus of zippers seems not to stop. Empty out the unused water, do the laundry, throw away today's maps and get out tomorrow's. Look them over, put them in the pack. Figure out how to procure provisions for the next day. Since arrival time at the B and B is usually 4:30-5:00 p.m., there really is not a lot of time before dinner to get all these things done. Housekeeping takes time! A walk about town, if, in fact, there is a town, is always a must. Then there is keeping up with the blog, some newspaper articles, and trying to read some Spanish. Sometimes the B and B owners are very chatty, sometimes not. Before bed, one has to make sure all is in order for the next day. An early bed time allows for a bright start the next morning; another feast for the senses awaits.


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Rowardennan to Inverarnon

After a beautiful breakfast, as we were about to leave, packs on our backs and all, the B and B proprietress asked, quite sweetly, "Now which of you ladies is going to pay the bill?" "Why that would be me!" A quick run back to the room to pick up the money, inadvertently left on the dresser and then handed to its proper recipient solved the problem. Isn't the passive voice perfect for some situations?

The walk along Loch Lomand was, again, gorgeous. And guess what! We took the high road, but don't be impressed. Apparently, it is the easier of the two routes.

A couple of samples what the the side away from the loch looked like:









Bluebells are still in abundance and brilliant, but we saw many primroses. Since I have had a few sips of beer tonight, I can hardly think straight, so choosing photos is simply too much to ask, therefore, two shots of the dozens taken are here:








A striated rock with moss:





Always, waterfalls are more impressive live:




The loch slurping against the shore:




Speaking of senses, the two best smells have been of bluebells and pine; today wild garlic became a third. Sounds have been abundant: birds whose names I do not know, the wind, many kinds of water: large falls, smaller falls, brooks and streams. But today, we heard a very sad sound. Way way up on a cliff, aha, an occasion to use the word arete (right, crossword puzzle fans?) was a mama sheep calling MAAAAAA repeatedly, and repeatedly she was answered by a baby BAAAAA only the baby's cry came from way over on the other side of a big stream. How it got there, we could not figure out.

Can't leave those bluebells alone:





Feral goats! We were so excited to spot several of these large shaggy creatures:



And, of course, its baby:




Tomorrow beautiful weather is forecast again. We did a significant section today of rock-root-boulder-narrow trail kind of walking, slow going to be sure--you had to watch every step you took--but all I could think was ohmygod, if one had to do this in the pouring rain, how treacherous and scary it would be.

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Drymen to Rowardennan

First, a quiz! What is this? (Answer at the end.)




We had a glorious day, appreciating every second of perfect weather, especially since we had 18.85 miles to cover. Not all of it was "official" because we took the advice of Colin, Mr. Braeside B and B, to take a side excursion to Inchcailloch Island, for, we were told, the island was carpeted with bluebells and that it was a spectacular sight. Of that, more later.

Along the way, there was this:




deforestation of miles of pines. So sad and so ugly. However, at least these logs served as a "bathroom."





A bit of today's trail, either up or down conic hill:





at the top of which hill was a spectacular view of Loch Lomand, which, at 23 miles long, 5 miles wide, and 623 feet deep at its deepest, is much more impressive than it appears in this poor photo. Some of the islands you see have been lived on at one time or another, sort of like the Thimble Islands!






People who worry sheep are very naughty:





Because you can see how adorable they are. Can you see a bit of the shy one hiding behind her two more photogenic friends?






To get to the island, Colin had told us to look for a wee man with a wee boat, a row boat. Heading down to the shore, we actually found such a fellow and asked, "Are you the wee man with the wee boat?" "No," said he, "Not I. Go over there and they'll fix you up." So we did and were directed to a ferry taxi, which would carry us over to the Island and come to fetch when we wanted, so long as it was on the hour or the half hour. Said boat was not the Knotty Buoy:




On the boat was delightful family, three generations, going over to the island to take some family photos. Here are Olivia, Brudy, and James:






After a good belting of "On The Bonny Bonny Banks of Loch Lomand" by all, we were quite happy:




As promised, everywhere the eye turned, bluebells. A swath? A carpet? A mass? Truly an impressive sight:




Here are a few up close:





Now, this is the wee man driving the wee boat back to shore, a trip of about five minutes:





Back to the task and on from Balmaha to Rowardennan, and don't believe anyone who tells you it is only seven and a half miles--well, maybe if you drive it it is. But look at the Highland cows! A mama:




And her calf:




At the end of our walk, which took us to a hotel where we are not staying, we bought dinner to go and brought it back to our abode for the night. We dined in full sun on the porch from which a had a marvelous view of the loch. Dessert was chocolate cake:




Answer to the quiz question:




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