Tendrils of cloud wrapped themselves around buttresses high on the mountains. Fingers of mist probed the gullies and gorges, not quite willing to let go, but unable to hold on for very long. The sun broke through in patches.
We set off from the very eastern end of Loch Leven, where the town of Kinlochleven nestles
. The path is waymarked and promised waterfalls. It weaves up through a witchy forest, between silver birch and aspen, crusty with lichen and damp with multicoloured moss. The path is stony and shifted underfoot.
The waterfall remained tantalisingly elusive. It is called the Grey Mare's Tail Falls, and the glimpses of it through the trees showed a long streak of white water, which could, with a little imagination, resemble a horse's tail. There was no clear stunning view of it though, and this felt somewhat frustrating, given it was signposted as the Waterfall Trail.
After crossing a few fords, and putting the steepest section behind us, we passed a large group of teenagers with matching orange rucksacks and glowing red faces. The race was now on to reach the top of the hill before them. We headed up, across the bare slope. The path didn't rise above 350m, so we barely hit the hill-fog. We did spend the whole day putting our waterproofs on and taking them off again, as the weather changed every ten minutes
.
The teenagers passed us while we were having lunch, but we soon caught up and overtook when they stopped for theirs. After that, I think they must have taken a different route, as they didn't pass us again. Either that, or they are still sitting there, looking bewildered.
Loch Elide Mor finally came into view, blue and shimmering. We stayed on the pebbly shore for quite some time, skimming stones and throwing in big ker-plunk ones. Mel managed to step off a rock and flood his boot, in what is starting to feel like a family ritual part of any day out now.
The route back took us down the far side of the valley, a little higher than we had been, but a little shorter too. Both the kids were getting tired. Donny manifests this as whining for food. Mel expresses it by sitting down and refusing to move. I dosed both with chocolate and hula hoops. We took frequent diversions to investigate mushrooms and cranberries, and to pick feral raspberries. We even saw some pyramid orchids in the heather.
Finally, down through the woodland and we found our way back to the car.
Strolling
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Kinlochleven, Scotland, United Kingdom
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