This summer was my first opportunity to visit the new lookout tower at Loch Katrine. I had the good fortune to be there on a beautiful day and it was well worth the short climb to the top. Built on three levels with information boards on the lower two and an open platform at the top for looking out over the loch and surrounding hills, the tower is near a viewpoint favoured by generations of visitors to Loch Katrine.
The tower is named after Roderick Dhu*, the fictional clan chief in the 1810 poem The Lady of the Lake written by Sir Walter Scott and often credited with starting tourism to Loch Katrine and The Trossachs. The tower stands on the site of a wicker hut built to shelter early tourists and intended to encourage artists and writers to visit and be inspired by the landscape.
Walkers on the trails at the Forest Lodge Visitor Centre near Aberfoyle might be surprised to encounter some silent figures lurking among the trees. In fact, they are easy to miss but, once seen, are fascinating. They are the work of Scots sculptor Rob Mulholland and aim to encourage us to think about our relationship with both the natural and the man-made environment.
In 2009, Mr Mulholland created a series of six 1.8 metre high sculptures in polished stainless steel for temporary installation near what was then known as David Marshall Lodge.* The installation proved so popular, that Mr Mulholland was commissioned to create a further group of six, life-sized figures for permanent display. Describing the project on his website, the sculptor says: “Before the First World War, this area of Scotland was open hillside with small sheep farming crofts (farms) and rural communities. The crofters were moved to other land by the government as there was a desperate need for timber after the war. The area was planted with fast growing conifer trees suitable for harvesting softwood and the landscape altered once again. One can still see the faint outlines of the crofts and past settlements within the forest.”
How many figures are in this image?
It is these individuals, the previous residents of the area, that the sculptures represent. They stand quietly in the forest, reflecting the environment and sometimes passers-by. From some angles, they appear in outline, from others they merge into the background, barely distinguishable from the trees around them.
You can read more about these figures and Rob Mulholland’s other public art online here.
* The lodge was built by the Carnegie UK Trust in the 1950s based on the ideas of its chair David Marshall. The Trust gifted the Lodge to the Forestry Commission in 1960s but it continued to be known as David Marshall Lodge until 2013.
Today marks the 334th anniversary of the Battle of Killiecrankie. It was fought on July 27, 1689 between Jacobite forces led by John Graham of Claverhouse, first viscount Dundee* and government troops under Major-General Hugh Mackay. The battle was part of the Highland War that followed the overthrow of the Catholic king James VII of Scotland and II of England in favour of Protestant William of Orange and his wife Mary (James’s elder daughter). Heavily outnumbered, the Jacobite forces achieved an unexpected victory in the short battle that evening but Dundee was shot dead in the final stages. Without Dundee, the Jacobites were unable to replicate their success and were defeated the following month at Dunkeld, and although a fierce campaign of raid and counter-raid followed, the war ended in a truce in the summer of 1691.
The Battle of Killiecrankie was the first major action in Scotland between supporters of the ousted King James (the Jacobites) and William of Orange’s army. Near the battle site, at the northern end of the Pass of Killiecrankie, a National Trust for Scotland visitor centre summarises the story. The main action took place about a mile from the visitor centre, across what is now the A9 main road from Perth to Inverness, but the narrow, deep gorge of the pass played an important role in the battle too as government soldiers advanced along it then fled back the same way, pursued by their Jacobite opponents.
Imagine making this leap with enemy soldiers hot on your heels.
The river flowing through the Pass of Killiecrankie is the Garry and there are several riverside walks along the gorge which make for a lovely afternoon out amidst beautiful scenery. The pass is also a rich wildlife habitat and the National Trust has plenty of information at the visitor centre and along the routes about its conservation work.
About two-thirds of the way along the pass, a green, metal footbridge spans the river. Looking north up the pass, the drop to the gorge floor seems huge but, turning to the south, the road bridge is even higher, emphasising the sheer depth of the pass.
The footbridge across the Garry pictured from the road bridge.The River Garry road bridge is over 130 feet above the gorge floor.
The height of the road bridge above the gorge means adventurous folk can hurl themselves off a platform slung below it towards the river, 132 feet below, on the end of a rope. Bungee jumping isn’t for me but when I passed yesterday, there were several people leaping into the abyss and a small audience had gathered on the riverside to watch. In the same area, is a course of nine zip lines through the trees and across the river, so if physical thrills are your thing Killiecrankie is a good place to go.
The southern end of the pass broadens out towards the confluence of the rivers Garry and Tummel. Close to this junction are the waterfalls at Linn of Tummel. These are well worth a visit. Queen Victoria clearly thought so as there is an obelisk nearby commemorating her visit to the spot in 1844. (Is there anywhere she didn’t visit?) The walk to the falls passes under the road bridge and continues along the western river bank. There are plenty of places where you can get right down to the water and yesterday paddle boarders, canoeists and swimmers were making the most of ready access to the water from extensive pebble beaches.
The falls at Linn of Tummel.
* John Graham was only around 40 when he was killed at Killiecrankie. He had served in the military since his early 20s and was recognised as a skilled leader. His relative youth and handsome face earned him the nickname Bonnie Dundee in some quarters. However, others remember him as Bluidy Clavers because of his violent suppression of covenanters in south-west Scotland. But that’s another story.
One challenge of living in The Trossachs is deciding which of the many options to take for a walk in lovely countryside on a fine summer’s day. This was my dilemma last week when I found myself with time to spare on a wonderfully sunny afternoon. I hadn’t been to Loch Drunkie for a while so a walk there seemed a good option, and returning by Loch Venachar made for a good circular route. The walk was a whisker over six miles and took a couple of hours at a leisurely pace with plenty of stops to admire the view.
I began by crossing Brig o’ Michael and joining the Three Lochs Forest Drive at Achray Farm. Turning left towards Loch Venachar, I followed the drive for about a mile then turned off to the right onto a rough path leading uphill through the trees to cut out a long loop of the Forest Drive. After about half a mile I re-joined the Forest Drive near the Loch Drunkie picnic area.
It was still lunchtime when I arrived and the area was busy with other walkers and visitors stopping on their tour of the Forest Drive to admire the view and enjoy a picnic. Their peace was somewhat disturbed when a pickup with a large trailer rolled up and disgorged two workers with strimmers and industrial mowers. I felt sorry for them in all their protective gear on such a hot day. They quickly set to with their noisy machinery, so I left them to it and headed back into the quiet of the forest.
I took a shady path along the shore of the northern ‘arm’ of the loch which forms part of the Loch Drunkie Trail (more about this trail here). The path cuts through the trees high above the waterline at the start before descending eventually towards the water. There’s access to the shore at several points and plenty of convenient boulders on which to sit and admire the view.
The remainder of the Loch Drunkie Trail doubles back to return through the forest to the picnic area, but I continued on along the lochside to the dam at the northern end of the loch. All the way, iridescent-blue damselflies darted around my feet, sometimes settling on stones at the side of the path. Despite all my attempts to snap a photo, they were too fast, flying off immediately I approached.
Leaving Loch Drunkie and its dam behind, I continued north along a minor path heading downhill through the forest. Before long, Loch Venachar was visible through the trees and I emerged onto the Aberfoyle to Callander section of National Cycle Route 7 (NCR 7).
After following the shore for a while, the path leads past the Black Water Marshes, a Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI), important as a flood plain and freshwater habitat.
The tree-lined path then continues on for another half a mile before joining the Three Lochs Forest Drive and the remainder of my walk followed the Drive back towards Brig o’ Turk.
Near the end of the walk, I passed again through Achray Farm and was greeted by goats lazing in the sun. The farm’s ice cream kiosk was open and, luckily for me as someone who isn’t an ice cream fan (yes, there are such people!), it also sells sorbets. I rounded off my walk with a delicious and refreshing raspberry sorbet. A lovely end to a sunny afternoon in the countryside.
Hogmanay is a great day for reflecting on the year past and the new one to come. As the first dry day for ages, it was also a welcome opportunity to get outside and stroll along to Loch Venachar through the Great Trossachs Forrest.
Low cloud, ice-fringed water and snow on the hills made for chilly, monochrome views but there was some colour in the landscape in the shape of a pair of intrepid canoeists exploring the loch from the water.
Two years ago, Scotland was in festive lockdown and the usual Hogmanay celebrations could not take place. Instead, a light show with drones and poetry marked the end of a difficult year and the hope for a new and better one for us all. While much of life has returned to normal, many of these sentiments are just as valid now, so here is another look at the wonderful Hogmanay Light Show of 2020 with words by poet and former Makar Jackie Kay, music by Niteworks and readings by some very well known voices including Siobhan Redmond and David Tennant.
This is my favourite time of year; the days are getting longer and it’s already light well into the evening, there are often warm and sunny spells of weather, and our woods are carpeted with beautiful blue flowers.
Most people would call the flowers in the image above bluebells, but in Scotland they are also known as wild hyacinths because Scottish bluebells are a different flower altogether. The blue flower that appears in ancient woodland in spring is the Hyacinthoides non-scripta (below, left). The Scottish bluebell is Campanula rotundifolia which flowers in the summer and is also known as the harebell (below, right). If this leaves you feeling somewhat confused, you are not alone. A public poll conducted by the Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh found the ‘Scottish bluebell’ was second only to the Scots Pine as the nation’s favourite plant but sparked debate about which species of flower voters actually meant.
Large colonies of bluebells (wild hyacinths), comprising millions of bulbs, are particularly associated with ancient woodland because they take many years to become established.Traditionally, bluebell sap was used as an adhesive, in making arrows and in the book trade, while crushed bulbs were a useful source of starch for stiffening cloth. Bluebells have magical associations too. Anyone picking bluebells risked being spirited away by fairies and hearing a bluebell bell ring was said to herald a visit from a malicious fairy. Perhaps more usefully, a garland of bluebells was thought to compel the wearer to tell the truth.
Nowadays, bluebells are a protected species and the concern is more about their loss as a result of damage to woodland from development and trampling feet than their use by fairies to trap the unwary … but still, better not pick them, just in case.
January in Scotland is frequently cold, dark and dreich. Sometimes it snows, often it rains. It can be stormy too. It is the middle of winter after all, so none of this is a surprise. But when the clouds clear and the sun shines, the winter landscape is spectacular, especially on crisp, frosty days. Our local Ben Venue below, for example, looks majestic cloaked in snow rising above the blue waters of Loch Venachar.
Not convinced? Then have a look at this wonderful short video of the beautiful wintery Scottish landscape from rewilding charity Scotland: The Big Picture. (Did that mountain hare just wink?)
You can find out more about Scotland: The Big Picture online here.
Loch Ard is one of the 22 lochs in the Loch Lomond and The Trossachs National Park. A few kilometers west of Aberfoyle, Loch Ard is about 20 minute drive from Tigh a’ Mhaide and is a good choice for walking or cycling with some 16 miles of trails to explore and plenty of wildlife to spot. But one thing that sets Loch Ard apart from others in the area is its abundance of boathouses. Here’s a brief tour of just a few at the eastern end of the loch.
These two boathouses face each other across the water just before the River Forth flows out of the loch towards Aberfoyle.This jetty and the boathouse opposite are popular subjects for local and visiting photographers.Keeping the boat secure.Moving west along the loch shore, this collection of boathouses nestles in a sheltered bay close to the road through the Pass of Aberfoyle.Some of the boathouses have seen better days.The final boathouse on our tour is tucked away under the trees at a point where the land descends steeply to the waterline.
The delights of Loch Ard are many and varied, from sculpture trails to water sports. But for us, the boathouses are one of its finest attractions.
Gaelic was a native spoken language in The Trossachs until at least the 1950s and is still evident in the place and house names in the area. The name Tigh a’ Mhaide means ‘house of the timber’ and may have been coined because of the sections of tree trunk used to support the porch at the front of the oldest part of the house.
The familiar English names of some of the most popular places to visit in the area derive from Gaelic names which are often wonderfully descriptive of the location or feature. For example:
Ben A’an comes from the Gaelic name Am Binnein meaning the pinnacle or apex. It’s easy to see why the familiar triangular peak earned its name.
Ben A’an rises above Loch Achray
Loch Achray comes from Loch Àth a’ Chrathaidh which has the intriguing meaning of Loch of the ford of the shaking.
Ben Venue comes from A’ Bheinn Mheanbh meaning the small mountain and though it may not feel like it on the long walk to the summit, Ben Venue is a mere 729m high compared to neaby Ben Ledi at 879m, or local munro Ben Lomond at 974m.
Ben Venue in the distance beyond Loch Venachar
Loch Venachar’s name is from Loch Bheannchair meaning the horn-shaped or tapering loch and a look at a map shows that it’s a good description.
Gaelic may no longer be the usual native spoken language of people living in The Trossachs, but it remains an important part of the landscape and much else in the local environment and wider culture of Scotland.
Tìoraidh an-dràsta! (Bye for now!)
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Tigh a' Mhaide 