Up Ben Cleuch

A day late, and a dollar short. But I must blog about yesterday, and since today, Monday, isn't interesting, I figured I would fill you in on what happened on Sunday (when we took our second hike).

We were going to go to Ben Arthur (close to Loch Lomond) but the distance driving turned out to be a bit too far, and after Saturday’s hike, those of us going to the second day were too sore to complete the proposed route. We decided to go to Stirling and ascend a small set of hills outside of Tillicoultry (about 6 miles outside of Stirling). The highest point was called Ben Cleuch and was only 2365 feet, tiny in comparison to the heights we were at yesterday.

The drive to Tillicoultry was easy. I’ve finally gotten the hang of driving, and I wasn’t nervous at all. Was able to enjoy the scenery a great deal more than Saturday’s trip. We were even lost in Stirling for a bit, but I just utilized the natural function of a roundabout, and we were right back on track. The countryside in Stirling and the surrounding area is gorgeous, dotted with little townships every 2 miles or so. Of course, these are actual little towns with only one main road, not the plethora of sprawling disconnected townships like the sort you see in Pennsylvania. As we approached Tillicoultry, and drove up Mill Street, the town was just waking up as Sunday morning began.

The hike itself was incredible. We walked about a mile west to another town (Alva) along a flat foot-path above the sweeping sheep-dotted fields below. Along the way we walked through a dense patch of hardwood that stood out enough for me to realize they weren’t the pine trees that I’m used to walking through. Then I had an argument with my guidebook. I know that sounds strange, let me explain. The guidebook told me, “Walk along the path until just before you reach Silver Burn and a small foot bridge. There will be a narrow path climbing up the hill north-west. Climb through the bracken…” Bracken! And it wasn’t kidding, this path hadn’t been used in years, ferns crowded over the narrow dirt scar on the hillside, and trees sprouted left and right. “The path rises unflinchingly up the spur.” No kidding. This had to be a mistake. But it wasn’t. This part of the hike took us nearly 30 min, and by the time we made it to a clearing, we said to hell with the path, lets just go straight up the hillside and catch the bracken ridden path later. We made our way up the only wooded hill I have seen in Scotland, named, ironically Wood Hill (most hills that I have seen regardless of size have no trees, only coarse sturdy grass).

Supposedly over 90% of Scotland was wooded once, before the intense logging and highland clearances. Oddly enough, the landscape we were hiking on was owned. Most of the land in Scotland is the property of some family, and all of this beautiful landscape is not a park, but sheep pasture land. Scotland has, however, passed a right to access law that allows hikers to cross property and gain access to these incredible sights. I am ambivalent about this. On one hand, the public has access, and land is held in a sort of public trust, and I’ve never seen a “No Trespassing” sign. On the other hand, these beautiful landscapes are “owned,” which doesn’t sit very well with me. I wonder how great of an impact sheep have had on the highlands. What beauty have they destroyed, how much have the highland clearances diminished (or protected) these beautiful landscapes I am beholding.

An hour later, after wandering around the bald hillside, following little sheep trails that crisscrossed the uniform landscape, we found (actually tripped) over the “wall” we were supposed to be walking along at the top of the ridge. Then we realized that the cliff face that we thought was Caif Craig, was actually Rough Knowles, and the tall summit we thought was Ben Ever – the mid way point to Ben Cleuch -- was actually the smaller of three summits we had to trek to complete the second side of the path’s quadrangle.

Daunted, we made our way to Caif Craig, a rocky out cropping set into the face of Ben Ever, and ate lunch. Rejuvenated, we made short work of the two peaks, Ben Ever and Ben Cleuch, making our way around the back-side of the valley. Here we saw runners making their way along the path we were walking. Rocky was a wimp compared to these sexagenarians. I mean, they may not have moved fast, but they were plugging along at a furious pace considering the terrain. They make people of sterner stuff here. Below us was Daiglen Burn. It is amazing that a little mountain stream made these impressive sheer valley faces. Once we reached the top of Ben Cleuch, we looked around and in the distance, found the peaks we climbed yesterday (Bienn Ghlas, and Ben Lawer). Wow. I did that.

As we descended down Ben Cleuch into the cool glen formed by Daiglen Burn, the slope increased until it was almost perpendicular. When we reached the bottom of the glen, we beheld the immaculately clear waters of Daiglen Burn, and on a whim, took off our shoes to cool them. I have never felt so alive as when, with trembling lips, I eagerly quaffed the ice-cold water. Perhaps sheep crap is the secret, the best way to filter water. Regardless, 24 hours later, I am am still unaffected by e. coli, so I think I'm safe.

We made our way out of the glen, and drove home. On our way we stopped at an Abbey and the Wallace Monument. All said and done, this weekend my compatriots and I walked 13 miles and climbed 4921ft in elevation. I think that is a good hike any day.

I won’t be posting for the next few days unless the mood strikes me. I have a paper due at the end of the weekend, and I need to concentrate on it. Blogging takes a great deal of time. I will update if anything extraordinary happens, and reply to any comments. Expect my next post to be on Thursday evening.

---

Scottish word/slang of the day

Some topographical terms for you, since I was hiking.

Burn -- "Silver Burn, Daiglen Burn, Shiel Burn"
A burn is a mountain stream that usually forms a deep sharp valley. I like this name because I think it makes the point that the streams burn their way down, forming the mountains.

Ben – “Ben Nevis, Ben Evers, Ben Arthur, Ben Cleuch”
Ben is a mountain.

Cleuch – “Ben Cleuch”
A valley. Ben Cleuch, therefore, is actually named Mountian Valley. An odd name if you don’t know that Daiglen Burn forms a truly impressive valley that is more impressive than the mountain itself.

Munro – “I bagged my Munros for the day. Cheers!”
A Munro is a term derived from Sir Hugh Munro, whose life work it was to catalogue all of the “just-quite” mountains in Scotland. These are summits over 3000ft (or 914m) in elevation. Munro identified a list of 284 official Munros in 1891. If you hiked one every weekend, taking off for Christmas, Easter, Labor day and Thanksgiving weekends, it would take you 6 years to complete them all. I hear a lifelong goal coming on.