Never mind the Trossachs

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In April I had the privilege of running in the Brecon Beacons and Black Mountains in Wales. This month it was Scotland and the Trossachs.

A couple of evening meetings meant that I could take some time off in the day to leave Glasgow and visit the Trossachs National Park. This area includes Loch Lomond and the surrounding woodland and Munroes.

An early train to Balloch was followed by a bus ride to Balmaha. I began with a steep climb of Conical Hill to warm my legs up. This 361m climb involved deep steps, woodland trails and a tough stony path to the top. I was rewarded with fine views over the Loch as the clouds started to descend.




A quick descent and there was just time for a photograph with the statue in honour of broadcaster, climber and writer Tom Weir. It was time to follow the West Highland Way north along the Loch's shore towards Rowardennan. The seven mile route was anything but flat. Steep climbs and sharp descents were interspersed with sections of pebbly beach. Occasionally I would come across others walking the route with sticks and rucksacks. 





The weather was mild and dry. Rain was forecast but there was little sign of it. Above, however, the view of the top of Ben Lomond was hidden from sight.

At Rowardennan I turned off the WHW and started to climb. A circular route leads to the top of Ben Lomond and back down the other side. I was taking the anti-clockwise loop with the longer ascent and shorter, steeper descent.

Soon I was in among the cloud with very little visibility. The whiteness descended and I added a jacket and gloves as the temperature fell. Up and up I travelled, hands on knees, one foot in front of the other. Some sections flattened out which enabled me to run, but most of the time I was walking.



Patches of snow began to appear and I sensed the summit approaching. Eventually I arrived. Using my hands and feet to climb over the rocks I spotted the Trig point appearing through the mist. There was absolutely nothing to see so I headed back down.

The initial descent was treacherous with sharp rocks, ice, snow and big drops on either side. The fact that I was descending meant that I was moving faster despite my hesitancy in letting my legs go.




As I emerged from the bottom of the clouds a spectacular panorama stretched out below me. Loch Lomond in all its glory.

Once down I stripped off my winter clothes, changed my t-shirt and began the seven miles back to Balmaha. I was retracing my steps and not enjoying the hills as much as I had before the climb up Ben Lomond.

A couple of miles out it began to rain. I was relieved to see the cafe and car park at the foot of Conical Hill. Just time for a coffee before the bus back to Balloch and return train journey to Glasgow.

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