❤️M🧡u💚c💙h💜 💓L💕o💗v💞e 💖
💞a💜l💙w💚a🧡y❤️s💕 Easter Sunday paddle kinda filled me with dread, roads were going to be busy and there was going to be campers everywhere.... I hate sharing my outdoors with other people In an effort to avoid road rage (mine!) I decided to head off early and return early. Been thinking about a trip from Crianlarich down to Killin then Loch Tay down but wanted to scope out the Dochart to see what the levels were like when it was dry. Plan was a put in at Loch Lubhair/Iubhair, paddle up to Loch Dochart, check out the castle and paddle upriver some more then back again. Shortish paddle which should see me back before the exodus from Callander and home in time for SWMBO going out to work.
There are two official parking spots, westerly one is a layby and the easterly one is more of a wee track down to the parking, both are pretty good launch points with small portages, the easterly one, which I used, involves some stairs Got there early, most of the campers were still asleep as I got on the water although they were starting to stir. Place looked a bit of a mess, boxes of bud, loo paper etc Some big chunks of wood lying around, not sure if someone had left them there to stop them chopping down trees, but sorry to say there were some green logs by the fire too and they were using the big chunks as benches....
Ben More still had some snow on and was to see a few hillwalkers today
Loch Dochart is a fresh water loch fed by the River Fillan and connected to Loch Tay by the River Dochart. These waterways served as a major artery of movement and communication throughout the pre-industrial era and, via the River Tay, provided access all the way to the Firth of Tay and the North Sea. It was the presence of these excellent logistical links which prompted Sir Duncan Campbell of Glenorchy to build the castle. It was one of several fortified residences - including Achallader, Barcaldine, Edinample, Finlarig and Monzie castles - raised by Duncan between 1585 and 1631.
The castle was built on a small island at the western end of Loch Dochart. It was built over the site of an earlier religious house that was probably linked with St Fillan's Priory, located four miles up-river. The main structure was a three storey Tower House constructed from rubble with ashlar dressings. The rectangular main block was augmented with protruding stair towers on the north and south sides. A circular tower occupied the eastern corner at the base of which was a pit prison. A rectangular chimney, that survives to its original height, projected out of the south side. The tower would have been surrounded by ancillary buildings and foundations of two of these structures survive. A landing place was constructed at the eastern end of the island.
Duncan Campbell died in 1631 and was followed by his son, Robert, who the owner during the Wars of Three Kingdoms. Robert was an active Covenanter and supporter of the Scottish Government which prompted the Royalist commander, John McNab, to burn Loch Dochart Castle in 1646. It was not rebuilt following this destruction and drifted into ruin. In more recent years the castle has traditionally been linked with the Scottish outlaw Rob Roy MacGregor who had supported the 1689, 1715 and 1719 Jacobite rebellions. However, by this stage the castle was a gutted ruin and it is unlikely there was any actual link. During the late nineteenth century the ruins were consolidated.
bridge of Orchy was busy when I got off the train. Some people were taking shelter after a day on the hills. Many were stopping over in the bunkhouse between days following the West Highland Way. I'd been at work all day and I didn't care a bit about the rain and the wind. With two weeks holiday ahead of me I was content to get drunk on cheap lager and consult my maps. So get drunk on cheap lager and consult my maps I did, and I didn't care about the rabbiting crowds (although I was itching for the morning when I'd be away) or the doom-saying weather forecast pinned above the bar. Although I was really quite tired, I stayed in the bar and knocked back pints and drams and scoured my maps (I love maps) until fairly near closing time when I scuttled and slipped along through the rain to the spot where I'd pitched my tent. I was camped next to the River Orchy and I drew water before going to bed. When I awoke the next morning the river was noticeably higher, and the spot I had drawn water from the evening before was submerged. after a breakfast of Earl Grey (half a liter thereof) and a very large pot of porridge, finished with squeezable honey and smashed up nuts, my holiday began... kind of.
The first eight or nine miles of my route followed the West Highland way along an old drove road that crosses Rannoch Moor from South to North. I shared this road with umpteen mountain bikers and groups of walkers (which wasn't exactly what I was looking for).
I found solitude when, at Ba Bridge, I cut off to the east, away form 'The Way' and into the bog. The River Ba was raging beneath the Ba Bridge, and looking back up in to the steep corries of Clach Leothad, Anach Mor and Stob Gobhar I could see the water coursing down the mountain sides.
The driest and warmest April on record had given way to torrential rain just in time for my trip. I was pleased, because the damage done by fire to many areas of the highlands during April had been disastrous. Swathes of land were affected by wild fires and the Forest of Rothiemurchus had only narrowly escaped catastrophe on more than one occasion. A sign in the Pinewoods alongside Loch Tulla reminds would be fire-starters: 'That which burns NEVER RETURNS'.
I would have had an easier trip if I had been out in April, when this trip was originally scheduled for. Unfortunately (or more truthfully through my own stupid fault) I had bought myself a ticket to broken-hand city (a nasty place if ever I've known one), spent pretty much the whole of April there, and largely missed out on what is basically my favorite time of year: For several years running trips in April have been among the best of my year (but try putting up a tent, or even stuffing away a bivy bag, one-handed). My hand gave me gyp throughout this trip, but not enough to offset the enjoyment. Neither the sharp stabbing pains or the dull throbbing aches of a healing fracture could get me down any more than could the whipping rain, stinging hail and incessant, face reddening wind (try as it might!). In fact, an amusing element of surprise was gained from the general changeability of the weather. One minute I would be paddling in calm water, with the sun on my face (for not many minutes, granted). The next, murky clouds would have gathered overhead and I would be thrashed until the sky decided to change it's mind once again. On my final day out, I was looking back to the summits I'd passed over the day before to see them blanketed with fresh snow (devoid of it as they were the day before). The photos I took on this trip were almost exclusively taken during the 10% of time when the rain / hail / snow subsided and allowed a little blue sky to show through. The photos that I took on this trip were exclusively taken on kodak disposable cameras (as you can tell from the quality of the shots) because my cameras ghost fled ahead of the trip... It had probably gotten gale-force wind of the nature of my plans and decided to 'end it all' in its own, dignified manner.
Here's what I did on my holiday...
Loch Dochart is a fresh water loch fed by the River Fillan and connected to Loch Tay by the River Dochart. These waterways served as a major artery of movement and communication throughout the pre-industrial era and, via the River Tay, provided access all the way to the Firth of Tay and the North Sea. It was the presence of these excellent logistical links which prompted Sir Duncan Campbell of Glenorchy to build the castle. It was one of several fortified residences - including Achallader, Barcaldine, Edinample, Finlarig and Monzie castles - raised by Duncan between 1585 and 1631.
The castle was built on a small island at the western end of Loch Dochart. It was built over the site of an earlier religious house that was probably linked with St Fillan's Priory, located four miles up-river. The main structure was a three storey Tower House constructed from rubble with ashlar dressings. The rectangular main block was augmented with protruding stair towers on the north and south sides. A circular tower occupied the eastern corner at the base of which was a pit prison. A rectangular chimney, that survives to its original height, projected out of the south side. The tower would have been surrounded by ancillary buildings and foundations of two of these structures survive. A landing place was constructed at the eastern end of the island.
Duncan Campbell died in 1631 and was followed by his son, Robert, who the owner during the Wars of Three Kingdoms. Robert was an active Covenanter and supporter of the Scottish Government which prompted the Royalist commander, John McNab, to burn Loch Dochart Castle in 1646. It was not rebuilt following this destruction and drifted into ruin. In more recent years the castle has traditionally been linked with the Scottish outlaw Rob Roy MacGregor who had supported the 1689, 1715 and 1719 Jacobite rebellions. However, by this stage the castle was a gutted ruin and it is unlikely there was any actual link. During the late nineteenth century the ruins were consolidated.
bridge of Orchy was busy when I got off the train. Some people were taking shelter after a day on the hills. Many were stopping over in the bunkhouse between days following the West Highland Way. I'd been at work all day and I didn't care a bit about the rain and the wind. With two weeks holiday ahead of me I was content to get drunk on cheap lager and consult my maps. So get drunk on cheap lager and consult my maps I did, and I didn't care about the rabbiting crowds (although I was itching for the morning when I'd be away) or the doom-saying weather forecast pinned above the bar. Although I was really quite tired, I stayed in the bar and knocked back pints and drams and scoured my maps (I love maps) until fairly near closing time when I scuttled and slipped along through the rain to the spot where I'd pitched my tent. I was camped next to the River Orchy and I drew water before going to bed. When I awoke the next morning the river was noticeably higher, and the spot I had drawn water from the evening before was submerged. after a breakfast of Earl Grey (half a liter thereof) and a very large pot of porridge, finished with squeezable honey and smashed up nuts, my holiday began... kind of.
The first eight or nine miles of my route followed the West Highland way along an old drove road that crosses Rannoch Moor from South to North. I shared this road with umpteen mountain bikers and groups of walkers (which wasn't exactly what I was looking for).
I found solitude when, at Ba Bridge, I cut off to the east, away form 'The Way' and into the bog. The River Ba was raging beneath the Ba Bridge, and looking back up in to the steep corries of Clach Leothad, Anach Mor and Stob Gobhar I could see the water coursing down the mountain sides.
The driest and warmest April on record had given way to torrential rain just in time for my trip. I was pleased, because the damage done by fire to many areas of the highlands during April had been disastrous. Swathes of land were affected by wild fires and the Forest of Rothiemurchus had only narrowly escaped catastrophe on more than one occasion. A sign in the Pinewoods alongside Loch Tulla reminds would be fire-starters: 'That which burns NEVER RETURNS'.
I would have had an easier trip if I had been out in April, when this trip was originally scheduled for. Unfortunately (or more truthfully through my own stupid fault) I had bought myself a ticket to broken-hand city (a nasty place if ever I've known one), spent pretty much the whole of April there, and largely missed out on what is basically my favorite time of year: For several years running trips in April have been among the best of my year (but try putting up a tent, or even stuffing away a bivy bag, one-handed). My hand gave me gyp throughout this trip, but not enough to offset the enjoyment. Neither the sharp stabbing pains or the dull throbbing aches of a healing fracture could get me down any more than could the whipping rain, stinging hail and incessant, face reddening wind (try as it might!). In fact, an amusing element of surprise was gained from the general changeability of the weather. One minute I would be paddling in calm water, with the sun on my face (for not many minutes, granted). The next, murky clouds would have gathered overhead and I would be thrashed until the sky decided to change it's mind once again. On my final day out, I was looking back to the summits I'd passed over the day before to see them blanketed with fresh snow (devoid of it as they were the day before). The photos I took on this trip were almost exclusively taken during the 10% of time when the rain / hail / snow subsided and allowed a little blue sky to show through. The photos that I took on this trip were exclusively taken on kodak disposable cameras (as you can tell from the quality of the shots) because my cameras ghost fled ahead of the trip... It had probably gotten gale-force wind of the nature of my plans and decided to 'end it all' in its own, dignified manner.
Here's what I did on my holiday...
two varieties of haggis, one with longer left legs and the other with longer right legs. The former variety can run clockwise around a mountain (as seen from above) while the latter can run anticlockwise.[5] The two varieties coexist peacefully but are unable to interbreed in the wild because in order for the male of one variety to mate with a female of the other, he must turn to face in the same direction as his intended mate, causing him to lose his balance before he can mount her. As a result of this difficulty, differences in leg length among the haggis population are accentuated
ΑπάντησηΔιαγραφήbridge of Orchy was busy when I got off the train. Some people were taking shelter after a day on the hills. Many were stopping over in the bunkhouse between days following the West Highland Way. I'd been at work all day and I didn't care a bit about the e 10% of time when the rain / hail https://picssr.com/photos/27158075@N05/interesting/page6?nsid=27158075@N05/ snow subsided and allowed a little blue sky to show through. The photos that I took on this trip were exclusively taken on kodak disposable cameras (as you can tell from the quality of the shots) because my cameras ghost fled ahead of the trip... It had probably gotten gale-force wind of the nature of my plans and decided to 'end it all' in its own, dignified manner.
ΑπάντησηΔιαγραφήHere's what I did on my holiday...