The Hollow Mountain

We undertake a unique meander this week as we attempt to go under and over a mountain in an effort to explore the highest point in Argyle and Bute, Ben Cruachan.
Ben Cruachan is one of the best-known mountains in Scotland and certainly one of the finest, with soaring ridges, dramatic cliffs and breathtaking views. Situated on the pass of Brander near Oban it is also referred to as The Hollow Mountain, Cruachan is unique in that it has a power station concealed within its hollowed out rock.
Our planned itinerary of exploration is to go under the mountain today and then up and around the ridge above its dammed reservoir tomorrow.
To go under the mountain we call in at the visitor centre on the shores of Loch Awe and sign up for a Guided Tour that take’s us on a short journey deep inside the mountain to the power station one kilometre inside.
Once inside the mountain we are taken up the visitor's walkway, past sub-tropical plants that grow well in the warm humid conditions within the mountain, and then on to the visitor's viewing gallery. Once there, we see the generating hall that houses the four generators that are used to produce electricity from water stored in the Dam 1300ft above.
The station is capable of generating 440 MW of electricity. It can go from standby to full production in two minutes, thus it is used to deal with periods of peak demand on the grid. If the turbines are on "spinning reserve" (turning in air, awaiting the rush of water) full output can be achieved within 30 seconds. It can operate for 22 hours before the supply of water in the top reservoir is exhausted. Although Cruachan can operate like a conventional hydro-electric station, using run-off water collected by a network of tunnels driven through the hills above Ben Cruachan and draining into the reservoir, the normal operating mode is pumped storage. In this mode, the generators are used as motors to drive the reversible turbines to pump water uphill from Loch Awe to the reservoir, using the relatively cheap electricity available during periods of low energy demand, usually overnight. This ensures the station is always ready to meet peak demand during the following day.
The subterranean tour lasts for about 40 minutes, as we depart the electric powered touring bus we are treated to the sight of a couple of Ospreys nesting across Loch Awe.

On arriving at Oban we find our overnight accommodation is unavailable for a few hours, undeterred we walk down to harbour to seek out some early evening cruises. Oban occupies a beautiful setting in the Firth of Lorn. Oban Bay is a near perfect horseshoe bay, protected by the island of Kerrera. To the north lie the mountains of Morvern and Ardgour. It is the main ferry terminus for Mull, Colonsay, Coll, Tiree and Lismore; and there are also sailings from here to Barra and South Uist in the Western Isles. It is too the long low island of Lismore that we choose to briefly visit. As our mode of transport pulls in to the pier we look on in amusement as we realise that we are about to aboard the smallest ship in Caledonian MacBrayne’s fleet. The MV Eigg has a car capacity of 5 and seating for 75 many of which look as though they have been purchased in a fire sale from a local primary school.

The ferry takes a sedate 50 minutes to cross Loch Linnhe and offers stunning views over Oban, Mull and beyond. Lismore has a growing population, of 168 at present, and enjoys one of the most unique locations, and some of the most spectacular scenery in the UK. Farming and crofting remain the Island's chief industries, but tourism is becoming an increasingly important part of the economy, with approximately 12,000 visitors per year. The peaceful island, in the Firth of Lorne, is also the home to around 300 species of plant and 130 species of birdlife (including buzzards, tawny owls and guillemots). Sadly, our short excursion affords us only a minimal time to take in the visual splendor of the island before we are summoned to re-board our chariot of the seas back to Oban.

The relaxed excitement of travelling under the mountain yesterday is replaced with the apprehensive feeling of exhilaration as we prepare to tackle the 3694 ft summit of Ben Cruachan and its surrounding peaks. The Cruachan is not a single peak, but a sequence of 4/5 peaks forming an arc around the north of the reservoir. The lower part of the walk is on grass/heather/peat which becomes increasingly sparse with increasing height.
The weather conditions are typically Scottish as we arrive at the car park close to the power station, wind; mist and poor visibility engulf us as we walk up the rough road which leads under the railway crossing and onwards to the Dam at 1300ft. As we head north to the end of the reservoir the low clouds covering the ridge, pass at an alarming speed which alerts us to the reality that today’s climb will be fraught with danger. This perception proves to be well founded as we attempt to traverse the south ridge towards the summit, the full force of the head on speeding winds make the task of standing upright impossible. So with a heavy heart we decide to admit defeat to the forces of nature and turn around and clamber back down to safety and draw the line between bravery and stupidity. On returning to the car our hearts grow heavier as the weather breaks and the clouds disperse to welcome brilliant sunshine over the peaks we had tried desperately to keep upright on shortly before.

Our forced abandonment of the climb affords us some spare time which we make use of by calling in at Kilchurn Castle at the head of Loch Awe.
Kilchurn Castle is a ruined 15th century structure on the northeastern end of Loch Awe. It was the ancestral home of the Campbells of Glenorchy, who later became the Earls of Breadalbane also known as the Breadalbane family branch, of the Clan Campbell. The earliest construction on the castle was the towerhouse and Laich Hall. Today, its picturesque setting and romantic state of decay make it one of the most photographed structures in Scotland. We spend a pleasant hour here basking in the sunshine before capturing one final shot of the dam dominated by the now welcoming peaks we failed to traverse a few hours previously.

Goat Fell And A Wrong Turn

The 9:45am ferry to the Isle of Arran, departing from Ardrossan on the Firth of Clyde is our first time parameter today as we set off in anticipation of a gentle ascent up Arran’s highest peak. On arriving at Ardrossan pier we find the stunning vista across the water to Arran that usually greets its visitors is today obscured by a heavy haze which sadly fails to lift as the day progresses.

The Isle of Arran is one of the most southerly Scottish islands and sits between Ayrshire and Kintyre on the South, West coast. It is 19 miles long by 10 miles wide but has a remarkable diversity of landscapes and seascapes and is often regarded as "Scotland in miniature". The pretty villages on Arran's beautiful coastline are complemented by a rugged and mountainous interior in the north and green rolling hills and woodland in the south which is home to the majority of the 4,500 people who live here.

Our gentle 55 minute cruise on flat calm waters is enlivened by a trial rescue mission by some of the ships crew as they clamber aboard the rescue RIB and take off at great speed on a phantom exercise. It is not until we reach a few miles offshore that the Isle opens up too us and we catch our first glimpse of the mountain we are about to ascend, Goat Fell. At 874 metres (2,867 ft), Goat Fell it is one of four Corbetts on the island. The name is believed to mean either 'Mountain of Wind' (from the Gaelic gaoth) or 'Goat Mountain' (from the Norse geita). It is a spectacular example of an open, rugged, upland landscape formed during the last ice age and on a clear day you may see as far as Ben Lomond to the north and the coast of Ireland to the south-west.

The start of our anticipated climb entails catching a local bus which conveniently awaits our arrival at the pier, then departing around the island at a leisurely pace it delivers its local passengers to their doorstep whilst stopping for a few seconds as we recognise a few seals lounging on some rocks. On being dropped at the small hamlet of Sannox we start our assault on Goat Fell. This is also where, with the benefit of hindsight that we make a wrong turn which eventually puts an extra 3 hours on our day and turns our anticipated gentle climb in to something a tad more exhilarating and rewarding. As indicated on the map above, we do not veer to the left on entering Glen Sannox but cross over the stream and head due east through the majestic Glen towards and a sweat inducing climb up ‘The Saddle’ which separates Glen Sannox from Glen Rossa. While walking through Sannox, Eric narrowly escapes being bitten by Britain’s only venomous snake; ‘The Adder’, as he unwittingly strolls through open heathland.

From the top of The Saddle we head east up on to North Goatfell. An easy walk with a couple of harmless scrambles it wasn't long before we were perched on the slab of the false summit. From here we set off south for the top of Goatfell, half a mile away. A well graded ridge - Stacach - links the two peaks. This section calls for a steady nerve as we traverse over a set of delightful granite tors, the rocky bunions offering an array of handholds and ledges which were not listed in our anticipated itinerary.

The summit trig point offers a welcoming rest point as we take in the haze restricted view of the outgoing ferry leaving Brodick Bay far below. Our rest break at the summit is cut short on the realisation that we must catch this outgoing ferry on its return to Brodick 2hr 30mins hence. Our descent from the summit takes on an almost comical element as we hurtle down the boulder strewn path at great speed in the quest to make the last ferry to the mainland. As we reach the final 2 mile stretch along Brodick beach we see the ferry in the horizon preparing to land at the pier. Once again we step up our pace and run along the promenade like errant children running for a school bus and we board the ferry with 5 minutes to spare.

Our return journey to Ardrossan is guided by partying Porpoises as they ride high on the bow waves of the ship, and as the haze begins to rise we capture a final sunset shot of the mountain where we took the wrong turn.

Bass Rock

We take a nautical meander this week as we head to North Berwick which is located on the south-east coast of Scotland overlooking the Firth of Forth, in the county of East Lothian, approximately 405 miles north of London and 25 miles east-north-east of Edinburgh. It is a charming coastal town with a small harbour and excellent sandy beaches, with two defining physical landmarks being the 613ft volcanic crag North Berwick Law, which overlooks the town, and the 315ft Bass Rock.

Bass Rock is situated in the Firth of Forth, two miles east of North Berwick and one mile off the mainland, a huge trachyte plug rising 315 feet, with three sides of sheer cliff, and a tunnel piercing the rock to a depth of 105 metres. The island plays host to more than 150,000 Gannets and is the largest single rock gannetry in the world, described famously by Sir David Attenborough as "one of the wildlife wonders of the world".

The Rock has a rich and varied history and previously housed a State Prison which was constructed in 1671. In 1706, the Bass was sold to Sir Hugh Dalrymple, whose descendants still own it today. But the true owners of the Bass Rock are, of course, the birds, for almost every available inch is occupied by razorbills, guillemots, cormorants, puffins, eider ducks and various gull species. But the bird of the Bass is the Gannet with a breeding colony of 30-40,000 pairs, making the Bass a mecca for international ornithologists. It is thus only fitting that this superb sea bird's Latin name "Sula Bassana" should be derived from the word Bass.

Our mode of transportation to the rock is by RIB (Rigid Inflatable Boat) from The Seabird Centre which is located on a rocky promontory on the north side of North Berwick Harbour. From here we are fitted with our bespoke waterproofs and offered procedures in the event of an emergency which we are reassured have never been used. Fully kitted out in our bright waterproofs and life jackets we are marched along the harbour to the RIB like astronauts to a launch pad. The RIB is moored at the old pier and is equipped with two 250 horse powered engines. As we leave the speed restrictions of the harbour the horses are fully unleashed and we look on with wide eyed excitement as we crash through the high rolling waves.

The first port of call is a small island en-route known as Craigleith. Once used as a rabbit-warren to provide food, Craigleith rises to 80 feet and is now noted for its seabirds, including cormorants, shag, guillemot and puffins. Geologically, Craigleith is a laccolith, a dome-shape igneous intrusion, composed of essexite, a rock popular for the manufacture of curling stones. While cruising close to the rock face we are visited by a couple of inquisitive seals who lead us to their cave which sadly is too small for the RIB to enter.
As we leave Craigleith we ride the high rollers once again as we make great speed towards Bass Rock. From a distance the rock looks as though it has been subjected to a cloud explosion of white emulsion, on closer inspection you realise that each white dot is in fact a Gannet. Like pixels on a computer screen the sheer volume of their numbers create a tapestry of colour that changes daily by the ever expanding numbers on the Island from April to October. The Gannets are oblivious to our presence and carry on with their mating rituals, preening and turf wars as we capture their bizarre rituals on camera. Alas the time passes all too quickly and we zoom off to moor south of the island to capture some distant snaps before riding the waves back to the tranquil waters of the harbour.

Back on terra firma we look over at the island like kids who have just experienced the exhilaration of their first fairground ride and draw envious looks at the next party of rock visitors as they get kitted out in their wetsuits in preparation for a journey that we know will live long in their memories.

The Cobbler

Convinced that Spring has truly arrived after the Baltic conditions encountered on Beinn Odhar last week, we are relived to find high cloud cover above our climb for today; Ben Arthur or The Cobbler as it is known colloquially.
The Cobbler is just short of a Munro but is still one of Scotland's most spectacular mountains due to the unusual skyline and fabulous views. One of a group of mountains known as 'The Arrochar Alps' The Cobbler was the happy hunting ground of many of Scotland's early climbers and climbing clubs.

Arriving at the car park west of Arrochar at 12:30pm we struggle to find a parking space, which reflects the mountains popularity and proximity to the heavily populated central belt. Crossing over the A83 we start our ascent up the gentle zigzags as a beautiful vista of Loch Long and Arrochar open up below us. As we pass a small reservoir the three peaks of The Cobbler become visible with the figure of the 'crooked shoe maker' - the Cobbler, clearly distinguishable on the right hand peak (see photo). The next mile or so gives gentle relief over welcoming terrain after the endless zigzag climb out of Loch Long. At the foot of the final climb the path offers two varied routes, the easy way is to carry on to the right and follow the path around the back of the hill and ascent the final summit via the many well placed stone steps up the side of the hill. Or, alternatively you can veer left and head straight up the front of the final summit which entails climbing over various ill placed rocks and potential leg breaks for the unwary.

We take the wooses’ route and climb round the back of the hill and look on in amusement at the number of climbers descending down from the surrounding peaks in ant like fashion to the aforementioned car park. As we clear the numerous thigh building stone steps we sweep round to see the jagged summit populated by numerous parents, children and dogs giving the dangerous summit a surreal vision of a family day out. As we ascend the final ridge views to the south open up to Loch Long, Gareloch, the Firth of Clyde, Bute, Arran and the Atlantic beyond. To the east are views over Arrochar to Loch Lomond, Ben Lomond and as far as the Lake of Menteith in the hazy distance. To the west views open up on a clear day of the isles of Jura and Islay. Views to the north take in a huge swath of the highlands with many well known peaks which would only be identifiable to us with the help of map & compass.

To truly capture the summit it is required that you access the centre peak. To achieve this, the climber has to pass through a small opening in the rock which leads to a narrow ledge facing a 150 ft vertigo inspiring drop. Once on the ledge an awkward sloping ramp leads to a final step onto the flat summit rock - on which few choose to stand upright. (The large rock on the left of panoramic above). Again the wooses’ option is chosen by us as we watch various brave (foolhardy) individuals’ display their high levels of testosterone.

On capturing our photographic panoramic and a brave effort by Eric to surmount his own personal precipice (see photo) we return via the bolder strewn path down the front of the mountain, which may be shorter in length but is no shorter in time to descend as the various obstacles in the path ensure and uncomfortable and time consuming effort to achieve flat ground.
As we return to the car park six hours after departure we find that it has emptied and bizarrely we realise that we are alone for the first time today.

The Sun Shines On The Righteous

We travel to the east coast today and ‘The Kingdom of Fife’ to investigate Scotland’s best kept secret for over 40 years. Hidden beneath an innocent Farmhouse a few miles from RAF Leuchars, a tunnel leads to, Scotland’s Secret Bunker. Situated on two levels 100 feet underground it is the size of two football pitches, one on top of another and encompasses 24,000 square feet of Secret accommodation.

The remoteness of the location gives an eerie feel to the place as you travel down a farm road to an innocuous farm which is now littered with abandoned military vehicles which sadly scar the surrounds and blatantly sign post the original objectives of the locale which was kept secret for so many years. On entering the farmhouse you are processed through the obligatory tacky gift shop before paying a kindly and informative local woman at the entrance to a 150m entrance tunnel, before reaching hermetically sealed 3 ton blast proof doors which mark the entrance to the underground structure.

The bunker was constructed in 1954 in response to the ongoing threat of Russia and nuclear war and this is reflected by the exhibits, many of which remain in situ from the time it was constructed but now look outdated in the modern electronic age.
This underground insight of our secret cold war activities provides a fascinating revelation into the levels of paranoia that must have existed at that time and the levels of expenditure that the Government were willing to invest in this perceived threat from the Eastern Block.

On our return to the surface and the 21st Century we continue our exploration of Fife and its coast.
Fife is a peninsular in eastern Scotland bordered on the north by the Firth of Tay on the east by the North Sea and the Firth of Forth to the south. We start our journey by crossing the Tay Bridge into Dundee and then re-cross and take the Fife Coastal Route which runs from The Tay Bridge in the North to The Kincardine Bridge in the South. Our first destination is St Andrews. Famous for being ‘The Home of Golf’, the town was the centre of religious life in Scotland before the Reformation, with the bishops wielding great influence over both church and state. St Andrews is also famous as a place of learning. The university, founded in 1410-11, is the third oldest in Britain. In modern times the alluring but often windy beach was the setting for the famous opening scene of ‘Chariots of Fire’, in which the runners run along the beach bare footed in slow motion with unbearably smug smiles on their faces to the haunting strains of Vangelis’s theme tune. St Andrews on an April Saturday proves to be relatively quiet, peppered occasionally with the ubiquitous over excited American holler of ‘Awesome’ as they overload on medieval history and culture before returning to the Errm ‘Land of the Free’.

From St Andrews we head south along the coast to the picturesque fishing villages of Crail, Anstruther, Pittenweem, St Monans and Elie. Where old cottages and merchants' houses, huddle round stone-built harbours where fishing boats lie at rest following the bustle of unloading their catch. Most of these cottages have now left the ownership of the local fishermen and have been acquired by the well heeled of Edinburgh and Dundee. The ever growing presence of Beauty Therapists, Chiropractors and Gastropubs reflects this modern trend.
As we round the south coast peninsular we glimpse the city of Edinburgh across the Firth of Forth and eventually the Forth Bridges which traverse it, open up in front of us.

The 1.5 mile Forth Railway Bridge was the world’s first major steel bridge, with its gigantic girder spans of 1710 ft, it ranks as one of the great engineering feats of civilization. Construction began in 1883 and formally completed on 4 March 1890 making it a landmark of Scottish and world renown. Today, the bridge, Scotland’s biggest ‘listed’ building, continues to form a vital artery in Network Rail's East Coast railway system; it carries 180 - 200 train movements per day.

The road bridge is a fairly modern construction in comparison and was built in 1964. The bridge's central main span is 3,298 ft long, its two side spans are each 1338 ft long, and the approach viaducts are 827 ft on the north side and 1,437 ft on the south side; at a total length of 8,242 ft, it was the longest suspension bridge outside the United States and the fourth largest in the world at the time of its construction.

Thankfully, the weather which has been dull and overcast all day suddenly clears and bright skies abound as we set up the camera to capture a panoramic of the two bridges taken from the slipway of the original ferry crossings.

The sun does indeed shine on the righteous ;-)