I almost bailed out of our planned hillwalk for Saturday. The weather forecast was predicting 65 mile per hour winds and heavy rain in the Scottish mountains. Two friends and I discussed the foulness of the forecast and our potential folly on Friday, one deciding to boycott the proceedings. Chris and I agreed to drive up north of Callander on Saturday morning and then reassess the conditions for tackling Ben Ledi. Ben Ledi, at 2883 feet, is just 117 feet shy of a Munro and I had not climbed it before.
Looking out the window on Saturday morning, I was still inwardly doubting our sanity and the drive north from Edinburgh was gusty, to say the least. We went in Chris’ car. Chris’ new Corolla experienced several strong windy side-swipes as we passed exposed areas of open land and one sudden torrential downpour where we the car was slowed to a crawl. Thankfully, everyone else on the motorway did the same as the visibility was minimal.
By the time we arrived at Callander, the inclement weather had mostly lifted and we decided to give it a go, with the escape clauses that we would get off the mountain if it became dangerous. Our backup plan of doing a distillery tour or sitting in a pub or cafe, waiting for the Calcutta Cup rugby match, still sounded appealing at this point. However, we weren’t to be disappointed. We were encouraged to see other walkers setting off from the car park near the Falls of Leny, so we set off in the assurance that we were not alone in our madness.
The steep walk from the carpark was rewarded with a short wooded stretch of path with rich, warm aromas of spruce and larch and the cascading sounds of rushing water. We soon left the woods for a steep, rocky path up the east side of Ben Ledi, curving south for a while beneath a steep ridge before the wind appeared. Until that point we had been nicely sheltered by the ridge, but when the path turned north-west towards the summit, Chris and I were met with what the forecast accurately described as 65 mile per hour winds in the mountains.
I had never experienced walking in such powerful winds and we were forcibly propelled from left to right as we slowly made our way up the muddy path. Chris was walking ahead of me and, at times, looked to be leaning into the wind at a 45° angle. At times it felt like G-forces were being unleashed on us as I felt my face contort to previously unimaginable shapes in the onslaught. There was no danger, thankfully, of us being blown to our deaths off precipitous cliffs, so we persevered towards the top. The only danger would have been a loss of pride at falling over without warning due to a sudden drop in the wind.
We were greeted with the sight of at least 2 deer running over the slopes very near the summit. It was the first time I had seen deer so high up a mountain and I laughed to think of them blowing up into the air by the gusts, legs flailing ungracefully. The deer were gone when we reached the summit but the views from the top were stunning. Looking west we saw Loch Katrine glistening in the sunlight and to the south-east we enjoyed vistas of and beyond Callander. The windfarm to the east was getting a good workout and it was mesmerising to watch the rotating blades in the distance.
We lingered near the top for a short time for lunch, finding shelter from the wind. One of the walkers we met in the carpark joined us and, as our bodies began to cool, Chris and I decided to make the descent back to the car and to the rugby awaiting us in a warm Callander pub.
The descent was much less windy than our ascent. We enjoyed a run down a steep, snowy bank and as the rain and hail began to lash, quickened our pace back to some dry clothes and a welcoming pint. With wind-burnt faces and tired legs, we capped off an invigorating day by witnessing Scotland beat England to lift the Calcutta Cup. Even the wind at Murrayfield wasn’t enough to dampen the spirits of many thousand exuberant Scots.
Looking out the window on Saturday morning, I was still inwardly doubting our sanity and the drive north from Edinburgh was gusty, to say the least. We went in Chris’ car. Chris’ new Corolla experienced several strong windy side-swipes as we passed exposed areas of open land and one sudden torrential downpour where we the car was slowed to a crawl. Thankfully, everyone else on the motorway did the same as the visibility was minimal.
By the time we arrived at Callander, the inclement weather had mostly lifted and we decided to give it a go, with the escape clauses that we would get off the mountain if it became dangerous. Our backup plan of doing a distillery tour or sitting in a pub or cafe, waiting for the Calcutta Cup rugby match, still sounded appealing at this point. However, we weren’t to be disappointed. We were encouraged to see other walkers setting off from the car park near the Falls of Leny, so we set off in the assurance that we were not alone in our madness.
The steep walk from the carpark was rewarded with a short wooded stretch of path with rich, warm aromas of spruce and larch and the cascading sounds of rushing water. We soon left the woods for a steep, rocky path up the east side of Ben Ledi, curving south for a while beneath a steep ridge before the wind appeared. Until that point we had been nicely sheltered by the ridge, but when the path turned north-west towards the summit, Chris and I were met with what the forecast accurately described as 65 mile per hour winds in the mountains.
I had never experienced walking in such powerful winds and we were forcibly propelled from left to right as we slowly made our way up the muddy path. Chris was walking ahead of me and, at times, looked to be leaning into the wind at a 45° angle. At times it felt like G-forces were being unleashed on us as I felt my face contort to previously unimaginable shapes in the onslaught. There was no danger, thankfully, of us being blown to our deaths off precipitous cliffs, so we persevered towards the top. The only danger would have been a loss of pride at falling over without warning due to a sudden drop in the wind.
We were greeted with the sight of at least 2 deer running over the slopes very near the summit. It was the first time I had seen deer so high up a mountain and I laughed to think of them blowing up into the air by the gusts, legs flailing ungracefully. The deer were gone when we reached the summit but the views from the top were stunning. Looking west we saw Loch Katrine glistening in the sunlight and to the south-east we enjoyed vistas of and beyond Callander. The windfarm to the east was getting a good workout and it was mesmerising to watch the rotating blades in the distance.
We lingered near the top for a short time for lunch, finding shelter from the wind. One of the walkers we met in the carpark joined us and, as our bodies began to cool, Chris and I decided to make the descent back to the car and to the rugby awaiting us in a warm Callander pub.
The descent was much less windy than our ascent. We enjoyed a run down a steep, snowy bank and as the rain and hail began to lash, quickened our pace back to some dry clothes and a welcoming pint. With wind-burnt faces and tired legs, we capped off an invigorating day by witnessing Scotland beat England to lift the Calcutta Cup. Even the wind at Murrayfield wasn’t enough to dampen the spirits of many thousand exuberant Scots.
