A wander on the wild side

As I suspected, the Six Nations put paid to any big walking plans this past weekend. I walked a couple of miles around Edinburgh, gathering socks, baselayers, plasters and other walking bits and bobs as I went. I also gave my 15th pint of blood and felt all the better for it.

All in all it was a practical weekend. I am literally itching to get out on the West Highland Way now. I simply cannot wait. With the lighter evenings and the sunshine - not to mention the snowdrops and crocuses popping up - it feels that spring is finally approaching. Before I attempt my first ever long distance trail, Dave and I are heading over to Arran again and - weather permitting - climbing Goat Fell. March is full of good things and I feel like a child on Christmas Eve with all the excitement.

Meanwhile, two events in the past week have really got me thinking. First of all a presentation by Visit Scotland on the Year of Natural Scotland and Homecoming 2014. It was interesting to hear how the "winning years" have really come together, and to realise that I have been in tourism since the start of this, in 2009. Every year I've learnt more and more, and am incredibly proud of the route I have taken. I am genuinely excited at the buzz surrounding Scottish tourism and its progression.

Today brought another interesting day on the Water of Leith, this time for a Tourism Intelligence event on Wildlife Tourism. Caroline Warburton from Wild Scotland led an extremely informative talk on Scotland's wildlife and the ins and outs of Wildlife Tourism. The Year of Natural Scotland is a massive opportunity for people to explore Scotland's wildlife. Whilst previously this may have been a niche market, it now drives a large number of visitors to the country.

This really got me thinking about my own relationship with Scotland's wildlife. And I realise I have taken it for granted. When you grow up with something on your doorstep you don't tend to realise that you are fortunate to have it. I grew up with holidays on the Moray Firth and dolphin spotting was something that was done between golf, walking and sandcastle-building. Don't get me wrong, it was exciting to see dolphins but it seemed so normal when we were kids. Now, looking back, I realise we were extremely lucky.

As a tour guide I had constant opportunities to see Scotland's wildlife. Every day would bring something different. My favourite place to go was Neist Point on Skye and to sit on the rocks, looking out to the Uists and feeling relaxed. The weather often had something to say about that, and on one memorable occasion the wind was blowing the foam from the sea up above the cliffs and it appeared to be snowing.

I was fortunate enough to spot minke whales a couple of times. Watching gannets dive was truly incredible, although my appreciation of the sea birds came only after a couple on my tour from Guernsey explained the differences between guillemots, kittiwakes, shags and the rest to me. I could see how delighted they were, as bird-watchers, to be able to lie on the cliff tops and spot some fine sea birds. I fully appreciate now what that meant to them.

We always saw plenty of these too though, which may have been just as special for other people on tour:

I'd always take my tour out to see the seals in Loch Dunvegan. Nine times out of ten they'd be on the rocks, occasionally they'd be bobbing up and down in the water. Always a treat, and I felt lucky, but I didn't appreciate it as much as I should have.

Time spent at Inversnaid on the banks of Loch Lomond was often rewarded by getting quite close to feral goats. I'd never seen creatures such as these before, and their horns always fascinated me!

Deer were often viewed from the window on the drive down Glen Shiel, or very frequently near the A9. I had a couple of near misses, including a majestic (but almost awful) moment just south of Lochearnhead when 4 deer ran in front of the bus, the last one leaping over the bonnet just inches in front of me.

Talking of leaping, I never saw salmon do their thing whilst I was a tour guide, but I saw my first salmon leap in East Linton last year. A few weeks later I saw a couple more in Jedburgh, which was really magic. All that time spent at the Hermitage in Perthshire trying to spot them leap out the River Braan to no avail!

Last October's trip to Mull, Iona and Staffa was truly special. Getting close to seal pups was something I never thought I would do, and it was incredible!

Just a few weeks ago I saw my first ever mountain hare in its beautiful white winter plummage.

Thinking about all of these special moments has really made me realise that I have been fortunate enough to enjoy a wide number of wildlife-related experiences. Only from these tourism events have I been able to collect my thoughts, collate my experiences and realise how lucky I am. I certainly have taken for granted the fact that this wildlife is right here on my doorstep.

My eyes and ears will be even more open in the coming weeks as I get back out there to enjoy Scotland's nature. Last time we took the ferry to Arran it was a stunning blue-sky November day, and porpoises swam near to the ferry. 

I will end with some of my favourite beasts - some of Scotland's finest and always a winner with visitors!

What a difference a week makes...

I was determined after last week's efforts to follow through on my promise (my promise to myself that is) to walk all the way from the flat to West Linton. From home to....home. I couldn't stop thinking about it all week - it gave me a focus, something to aim towards.

I've been hinting for a while now but perhaps hadn't said 'out loud' what my bigger goal is. Because I am aiming towards something rather big. At the end of March I will be walking the West Highland Way. My plans are almost entirely finalised, I will be heading out to Milngavie and hoping to return from Fort William, a week and 96 miles later.

So it has been crucial for me to get out and about as much as possible, and 'up my miles' as I keep saying. I try to walk to and from work, about a half hour walk, every day. Occasionally I get the bus but for the past two weeks and counting I've got there on foot everyday. It's a short distance in the grand scheme of things but I know it helps as the weeks go on. I'm a bit of a pavement pounder, walking much faster than I realise I am. I only realise when I arrive extremely sweaty at my destination!

The idea of walking from the flat to West Linton, the village I was brought up in, has been on my mind for a while. I was so pleased to get out last weekend and do the section beginning at Harlaw, and chuffed to make it through the snow. This week, Dave was joining me and Sunday was the day.

We awoke to sunshine - it was going to be a glorious day for walking! We had our kit all ready and left the flat at 9.36am on the dot. It was a nice feeling to leave the car keys where they were.

We headed along the canal towards Slateford. The nice weather had brought people out already - rowers, cyclists, walkers, families. There was a chill in the air but it only takes a hint of sunshine to improve the mood of the masses.

Reaching the Water of Leith Visitor Centre we began to make our way towards Balerno. There were lots of running men passing us as we went, including one of the Proclaimers! (Reminds me of that Frankie Boyle classic - "How can I look like ONE of the Proclaimers, they're twins you *****" - insert your own swear word). Around Currie we found our cut-through To the Pentlands:

Now we were in unknown territory...neither Dave or I really knew exactly where this path would lead, but we were sure we'd get to the hills eventually!

The path was lovely actually, winding its way through trees and a babbling stream. We came out onto a quiet road and headed along to our right. Soon we saw signs for Bonaly and Torphin, and there were plenty of cars parked. We kept going, heading for Harlaw. For not the first time - and definitely not the last - I thought to myself, what a difference a week makes. The road to Harlaw was jammed with cars - the carpark itself stowed out. The sunshine had brought people out in their droves.

We reached Harlaw after two hours and 10 minutes of walking. Knowing I had the best part of 4 hours walking to go, this was an interesting feeling. We both felt good, but we knew what was coming. The first hurdle was that ****** (insert your own swear word) tree-lined hill I'd struggled up last week. It hurt after half an hour of walking, so it was going to hurt after 2 and a bit. The stroll alongside Harlaw and Threipmuir reservoirs was nice, and again a lot of people and dogs around. We stopped for a banana and energy boost before tackling The Hill.

Actually it wasn't too bad. And it was over quickly. And after it was conquered, we were into the hills - yay!

The difference in a week. Last week I made fresh tracks on blank snow. This week, this is where I'd made those tracks:

It was a bit muddy underfoot - and we'd planned to put our gaiters on upon reaching the Pentlands - but it wasn't nearly as bad as the week before.

Our jackets off the whole way, we sauntered our way towards West Kip and enjoyed the beautiful blue skies and sunshine.

 

We stopped to refuel a number of times along the way but made good progress, and all of a sudden we were within hearing range of the A702.

Confident of my route this week, I picked the logical path to Nine Mile Burn. I could see clearly the way I'd gone last week and was glad I didn't have to go that way - it still looked incredibly muddy.

looking back to the hills

looking ahead to the Moorfoots

We reached Nine Mile Burn far quicker than I'd done the week before. We headed along the Roman Road and I shook my head at my silliness last week. I have to say, the tarmac was tough going. The soles of our feet were struggling and pounding away on the road again was torture.

By the time we got to Carlops I felt in pretty bad shape. We'd been walking into the sun all day, I had a headache and my legs hurt. I actually couldn't face the next 2 miles.

A roll and an orange later, I felt more up for it. Or to be more accurate, I was ready to get it over with.

We'd been walking for around 5 and a half hours and West Linton was almost in our sights.

A very welcome sight then bounded towards us:

Robbie!

Dad and Robbie had walked out to meet us! We strolled slower (as fast as Robbie could go) towards home, arriving there around 6 hours and 10 minutes after we'd left the flat. Our feet were sore but we were happy, impressed with our efforts and grateful for the pancakes that awaited us!

Thanks must go again to Alun, whose route we were following - I got it right this week! Thanks Mum for the lift back into Edinburgh (only fair really since I'd carried a bottle of wine for you all the way and hadn't even been tempted to open it!).

I was far too exhausted to blog last night, and I anticipated a sore day today. However neither Dave or I have felt too bad - perhaps tomorrow it will hit us harder? I'm really pleased to have done this walk, it was great fun and truly a lovely day to be out there.

This weekend's rugby will put paid to any big walk plans but perhaps it will be a good time to stock up on the supplies I need for the West Highland Way and get myself more walk ready. 96 miles here I come!

A slightly different way of walking home for lunch...

Since I am now determined to 'up the miles' in the coming weeks, it was imperative that I got out there this weekend. After a mere 2 hours of pavement pounding last weekend, I was keen for a 'proper walk'.

Lunch was booked for 1pm on Sunday in West Linton and all week I was formulating a plot of fitting a walk into the lunch plan and the various rugby games that take over this time of year. Right up until Saturday I was swithering about the best way to go, knowing that a really long walk would involve a very early start. I'm desperate to get some 20 mile days under my belt, but this weekend I just had to accept that I'd have to make the most of the time I had.

On Saturday Dave and I decided to get some pre-rugby fresh air. We walked up Colinton Road to Redford Barracks, along to Colinton Village, and then alongside the Water of Leith all the way to the Visitor Centre at Slateford. We then took the steps up to the canal and walked back to our flat. It was a good wee stroll, enough to get the blood pumping and to justify an afternoon of watching rugby. Our blood continued to pump all the way through the Scotland v Italy match - what a result!

When my alarm went off at 7am this morning I was not impressed. We'd had a late but great night in North Berwick with friends, and now I was attempting to drag myself out of bed and to the hills. It was a struggle, but I managed.

I'd decided to drive to the carpark at Harlaw and pick my way through the Pentlands all the way to West Linton. I'm sure there will be Gore-Tex markers along that same way in the coming months/years, but for now I was finding my own way. Well, I say my own way, but without the help and advice of Alun (crazy West-Highland-Way-in-under-24-hours athlete) I'd have literally been lost. Thank you!

I left my car just after 8am and set off at a blistering pace towards the reservoirs of Harlaw and Threipmuir. Wisps of snow fell around me, and didn't stop for the rest of the day.

I enjoyed this part, and I knew where I was going (always puts my mind at ease) after a day in the Pentlands with Dad last year. I also knew there was a long steep tree-lined hill coming up that I was not relishing...then I got there.

It was tough coming down this time last year, and I knew it would be a tough slog going up. It was!

Soon it was over. I turned right at the top, and then I was really heading into the hills and into the snow. After that, I really had some fun. There's just something about making fresh footsteps in the snow that brings out the inner child in you!

trying to increase my mileage...

I was all alone out there. I was feeling good and excited about what was ahead. But I started to struggle after a while, the snow taking its toll. I couldn't tell if I was walking over mud or water, and my feet were slipping around. It was quite a lot of effort! I was warm but my face was cold, the snow falling around me.

There was a slight incline, and I had a feeling I'd get some views once I reached the brow of the hill. Soon I did, and was excited to see the Kips.

Thus began another section of cross-country walking, slipping through the snow and mud. I was heading for the base of West Kip (for a brief moment I considered going up but the views were non-existant, the atmosphere bleak, and the sweat dripping).

Being so close to West Kip brought back very good memories from a day in December 2011 when Mum, Dad, Dave and myself battled our way over the Pentland Peaks on an incredibly windy day. I'm keen to do that again, when the weather improves.

From West Kip I knew I wasn't too far from Nine Mile Burn. I knew there were a couple of routes to get there, and of course I picked the one I hadn't intended to follow. However, it took me a less direct route, which was good because it added to my mileage that little bit more. I did find it quite disorientating in the snow, as the paths weren't clear and visibility was quite low. Nine Mile Burn was like a mirage, appearing in the distance but not getting any closer no matter how far I walked.

By this point I was getting into really clatchy territory. I had slipped my way down a hill cursing the snow. Now I was into the fields and trudging through disgusting mud.

At this point - and from this point onwards - I was most grateful for my boots, and especially for my gaiters. There were moments I was ankle deep in mud.

I finally reached Nine Mile Burn and I think I was bit delirious by this point - hunger and fatigue setting in. I was searching for a route towards Carlops that didn't involve a road, but logic and the snow failed me. I tramped through fields, jumped over a river and startled some sheep. Eventually I ended up at a farm - phew, I must be at Carlops, thought I. Oh no, I was just a bit further along from Nine Mile Burn. And onto an old Roman Road leading to Carlops. I was relieved to be back on track. I was annoyed at myself for taking a seemingly silly detour. I was even more muddy:

And finally. I was so overjoyed to see this sign, and know I was close.

I reached the village of Carlops at last, and entered the beautiful Scottish Borders.

I was relieved to see my Dad walking towards me. He'd set off from West Linton earlier, and walked out to meet me. I don't think he thought he'd have to go all the way to Carlops, but then I didn't anticipate my foolish jaunts that led me in a circle.

I finally ate the food I had in my bag and we made our way to West Linton, 2 miles away. By the time I got home, I'd been on the go for just over 4 hours, and I was feeling pretty tired! The hot shower was most welcome and the Golf Club carvery was a much needed treat!

Next week, with a bit more time available, I may attempt the same walk but starting from Polwarth, heading along the canal, up the Water of Leith and into the Pentlands that way. For now, I'm tired but pleased with my day's efforts. Thanks again to Alun for route guidance, and to family and Dave for general support team stuff!

My route

A quieter weekend

After the exhaustion of last weekend's winter skills course, I had no plans to have an active weekend this weekend. I felt tired most of the week, and got soaked at least twice walking home from work. After a night at the pub on Friday and a day of rugby on Saturday I was feeling the fatigue this morning. My tonsils are a bit swollen and I'm worried I'm coming down with something...

However I'm also aware I need to get out and about as much as possible in the coming weekends - I need to up my mileage in preparation for my first ever long distance trail.

Dave and I decided to take a walk 'around the block'. I wanted to test out a pair of trainers and see how they coped with some pavement pounding. We walked up Colinton Road to Oxgangs, along to Fairmilehead and down Morningside Road back to our flat. We walked for two hours, and I struggled. My trainers were fine so that was good, but I was hot and cold, my broken internal thermostat giving me real problems. I wasn't very happy and feeling sorry for myself.

Once we turned for home and were heading downhill towards Morningside I was feeling a bit better. Once we were home I was tired and I think my body is fighting something off. I can only hope that this week I can shake it off, feel a bit better and get some more miles under my belt next weekend!