Journeys 3.1

I first walked across the Firth of Forth on this suspension bridge with my brother shortly after it opened in 1964. By 2018, its role was largely taken over by the cable-stayed bridge just visible on the top-right. Today, we first crossed by train on the 1890 cantilever bridge to the left; here, we’re walking back across the 1964 bridge.

Dwight and I are now in Edinburgh, having bade our friends a temporary farewell. We’re staying in the university area, which we prefer to the overloved city center. Always on the lookout for something we haven’t seen before, we walked over to this former railroad tunnel; built in 1831, it is now part of the National Cycle Network.

​We reached the end of our hike in Pitlochry after yet another day of “good everything”: the hiking, the views, the weather, and the company. It was here I bade farewell to my boots; the soles were simply too worn for another stint. They’ve served me well, but their journey ends here. Already, the four of us are talking about our next multi-day trek.

It’s day 7 of 8 on our Rob Roy Way hike. We’ve settled into a comfortable routine: arriving at our destination by mid-afternoon, just in time for a pot of tea and some cake. ​Today we reached Aberfeldy after a day of stunning views and more waterfalls than we could count. A cuppa and a slice of cake were exactly what we needed before checking into our hotel for a pre-dinner nap.

“£20 for an early check-in,” they said, at a resort in Kenmore at the foot of Loch Tay at the end of day six of our hike. Or, about £14 for beverages from the bar while enjoying this view of Loch Tay from the patio. We opted for the obvious and saved £6 while waiting.

​We climbed up to this loch, which was created by a dam. From here, the water rushes downhill through a tunnel to a hydroelectric plant. Throughout the journey, I’ve been impressed by the scale of the engineering; yesterday, we followed an abandoned hillside railroad, and on another day, passed a Victorian aqueduct built for Glasgow’s water supply. While this dam dates from the 1950s, contrails stretching across the sky offered a nod to even newer technologies.

This isn’t the kind of weather we reasonably expected in the Highlands at this time of year: blue skies and temperatures rising to the low 70s as we hiked to Killin for the night. With no rain forecast for our entire trip, our rain capes remain in our backpacks, and we’re left to enjoy the superb scenery.