Day Forty Four

Thursday 16 September – Drymen to Rowardennan

This was one of the great days. Great weather, great walking, and starting with a great breakfast. Naturally my hostess gave me a lift to the resumption of the walk (just part of the excellent service) - this was on the outskirts of Drymen.

Drymen grew up because it was the nearest point to Loch Lomond at which a bridge could be built over the Endrick Water. It profited in the early 18^th Century from being on a military road from Stirling to Dumbarton. The Clachan Inn, in the main square (where I had enjoyed an excellent supper – I know I'm always writing about food, it's a favourite subject), has a sign claiming that it was first licensed in 1734. Then the rage for all things Highland, stoked up by Sir Walter Scott, brought tourists through here en route to the Trossachs or Perthshire. Today the most lucrative transport connection is probably with the West Highland Way - it is the obvious first stop-off.

After a short stretch just a hedge away from the main road, The WHW turns North and soon enters woodland. After a mile it crosses the Rob Roy Way, which starts at Drymen, and which I had walked last year. Turning West, the path followed a forestry track through Garadhban Forest.This is also part of the Queen Elizabeth Forest Park. This is a bit of an oddity. It seems to consist of a string of separate bits of woodland – I was in and out of it all day.

I gained height sufficient to be able to look over Drymen to Loch Lomond, glittering in the early morning sun. With a few cloudy intervals the sun lasted all day, feeling warm when I was out of the moderate wind. Leaving the woodland, the path kept on upwards, the immediate objective being the ascent of Conic Hill.

Conic Hill reaches 1184 feet, and is notable for being right on the Highland Boundary Fault, which stretches (on the mainland) from Helensburgh in the West to Stonehaven in the East. The geology is beyond me, but I did understand the reference to a collision of tectonic plates, 400 to 500 million years ago, which rucked up the land to the North. Now the hill was looming above me.

After a brief dip to bridge a burn, I started a steady, rocky climb, strenuous enough to work off at least some of my ample breakfast. The WHW doesn't actually go over the top of Conic Hill. It takes you up to about 1000 feet and passes around the Northern flank. But an obvious and easy side path took me up to the summit, from which the views were more than worth the extra effort. In particular, I was pleased to catch sight of the Firth of Clyde, beyond the Southern end of Loch Lomond; this was the first time on this inland journey that I had caught a glimpse of any of the route of my coastwalk, which kept me occupied for 12 years of holidays, finishing a couple of years ago.

The descent from Conic Hill is more precipitate than the ascent, testing on the ankles. Eventually the route levelled out and entered another piece of woodland before reaching Balmaha by way of a large car park.

As well as catering for West Highland Way walkers, and climbers intent on ticking the most southerly Munro (Ben Lomond) off their lists, Balmaha is ideally positioned to serve tourists from Glasgow wanting to reach a pretty bit of Loch Lomond without the need to crawl through the built-up area around Dumbarton. At the height of Highland mania, steamers regularly called at the now-defunct steamer pier; now, a return ferry trip to Inchcailloch Island is all that is on offer.

As the song has it, “By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes / Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond / Where me and my true love will never meet again / On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.” Who wrote it, nobody knows. The chorus is fairly clear, but the meaning of the verses has long been a favourite subject for theorising. Depending on who you read, Loch Lomond is 22 or 24 miles long and 5 miles wide. It’s not a sea loch, and so is fresh- rather than saltwater. It’s the largest lake in Great Britain by surface area, although Loch Ness beats it on volume of water. The lake contains about 30 islands (exactly how many depends on the water level), several of which are crannogs, prehistoric artificial islands built probably for defence.

Being so near to Glasgow, the banks of Loch Lomond, and the loch itself, have been a holiday playground for centuries. Watersports have been popular, particularly at the Southern end, and ferries have plied the loch between the various resorts. At the Southern end of the loch today is Loch Lomond Shores, a romantically-named, massive retail opportunity which I thankfully missed by joining the loch part way up the Eastern shore.

At the pub in Balmaha I had a very good salad, before setting off for what I fondly imagined would be an afternoon stroll up the Eastern shore of Loch Lomond. I should have paid more attention to the map, in particular to the contour lines. Like so many coastal stretches, the loch shore consists of a series of bays, often sandy, interspersed with rocky bluffs or larger headlands. Since the path can't go through the hilly bits, it has to go over them. This is the price paid for avoiding the road which, although it ends at Rowardennan, is busy enough to be worth avoiding. The road has its ups and downs, but my impression is that they are nothing compared to the switchback of the path. Having said all of which, it was lovely.

Idyllic moments beside the loch alternated with woody walks far above the water, sometimes but not always in sight of the shore. Many of the woodland stretches were part of the curious Queen Elizabeth Forest Park, as mentioned before. The inlets and bays are often the sites for caravan parks and campsites, with pleasure boats anchored just offshore. Less formally, small groups were assembled around smoky camp fires. This is part of the Loch Lomond and Trossachs National Park, and the park authority is trying to clamp down on wild camping and fires on the loch shore, much to the annoyance of many who cherish the historic right of access in Scotland, now enshrined in law. I am sure that there are good arguments on both sides, but I certainly appreciate the benefits I have gained from Scottish access rights, which I wouldn't like to see watered down.

After yet another steep up and down, the path rejoins the road near the Rowardennan Hotel. I had been expecting to have my supper here, but I had been told that the Youth Hostel, where I was to stay, another half-mile or so furher on, now did evening meals, much to the disgust of the hotel owners. This proved to be the case, so I passed the time before supper sitting beside the loch in the hostel garden, typing these words. The perfect end to a perfect day? Pretty damned nearly.