The two days I had for hiking in Scotland were spent between Stirling and Collander, northeast of Edinburgh. I'd wanted to go to Wick, the north terminus of the rail line in Scotland, but wisdom had me stay nearer to my airport in case anything were to go wrong (like oversleeping and missing a bus or train).
Around Collander is an area named 'The Trussachs', a lush mountainous area also called 'Rob Roy Country' as this is where the rogue/folk hero operated. True enough, as Steve had mentioned, it was beautiful. Much different from the rest of the Lowlands, which to me truly just resembles the rolling hills of some of our southeastern states albeit with less trees.
Stepping off the bus in Collander I purchased a topographical map from the local visitor center, bought a couple of trekking poles from a local outdoor shop, and headed east with only a few hours of daylight left. When showing the clerk on the map where I'd intended to go, he'd responded, looking over his glasses, "Today, you mean?", questioning my ability to cover the miles before sundown. The hike was like walking through a postcard... it was exactly what I needed, a complete break from Edinburgh... diametrically opposite.
Despite the clerk's reservations, or perhaps in spite of them, I made it to where I'd wanted with an hour to spare. Unfortunately, while gorgeous, there was no spot anywhere near appropriate for pitching a tent... I turned around, hoofed it a mile back to a Boy Scout campsite, and spoke to the Scoutmaster about the possibility of using a small corner of their maintained area as daylight was about to be gone and dark clouds were moving in. Unfortunately it's the age in which we live: Despite my explained reasons, he was wary of a stranger coming up around nightfall and asking to camp near his large group of young boys. I wanted to get angry about this but he was well within his rights to concern himself with "child endangerment". I thanked him and was about to excuse myself, but he paused and then told me about a second sight they had at this location a few hundred yards away, down the road and up in the trees. I would be more than welcome to use it if I wanted. Perhaps he had a change of heart, I don't know... but if I were a molester or some other fiend, a few trees wouldn't have kept me from their camp. He was probably just covering his rear while being helpful, and I don't blame him.
...Especially since this other space was FAR superior to the one they were using! He'd directed me to a clearing surrounded by moss covered boulders, large Shire-like trees and next to a good sized running stream. Away from everyone, not a sound to be heard other than the gurgling of the small waterfalls nearby, the campsite was ideal. I honestly could not have asked for a better place to spend the night.
The following morning I made my way back over the miles to Collander, the landscape along the way being completely different in the early sun, and back to Stirling. As the day progressed, the weather kept getting worse but I still had an afternoon to see as much as I could.
The main thing I did while in Stirling was visit the William Wallace National Monument, a tower built in the mid 1800's in honor of the guy the film "Braveheart" was supposed to be about, though nearly completely fictitious. The tower was amazing, built on the precipice of Abbey Craig, overlooking the city toward Stirling Castle. The monument consists of five levels, but in truth is between what we'd call ten or twelve stories tall. Each floor is packed with historical information and was a joy to experience (the highlight being Wallace's actual claymore, one of the things the film didn't alter for Hollywoodization). The hardest thing for me to deal with, however, was the SINGLE spiral staircase in the monument, seen at the leading edge of the building in the image at the top. Built on the outer corner of the monument, this stone walkway is wide enough for one person to ascend (or descend) comfortably... I could stand on one step with outstretched arms and touch both walls! And this is a major monument of the country that hundreds of people visit a day! I'm embarrassed to say that the narrow, steep spirals, with windows that looked over an enormous drop and allowed strong winds to gale in, got to me. By the time I got to the third level, my hands were shaking. It took me a few minutes to gather the courage to make it to the fourth level and even then I had to sit immediately in the middle of the room. I never made it to the fifth, the open-air roof covered by eight buttresses.
I know this thing has been standing for over a hundred and fifty years, but KNEW the thing was going to collapse that day, despite its five to ten feet thick walls (the staircase wall was only about a foot thick, though solid stone, but I knew when I had to step aside to allow others to pass, the stones would certainly fall out behind me and I'd be screaming to my death). This place was great, though, and well worth my discomfort.
On my way back I made it a point to cross the Stirling Bridge, pictured above with the monument in the distance, where Wallace had his first decisive victory against the English. Though being horribly outnumbered, he attacked as they were bottlenecked on this bridge where the mounted cavalrymen could only cross two abreast. Funny... 'never showed up in the film. Not enough spectacle, I suppose... two men fighting at a time, no pitch-saturated burning fields...
The last image is Stirling at Sunset, with the Wallace Memorial in the foreground and Stirling Castle on the ridge. I took none of these photos, by the way... they're postcards. The weather was foul that day, and, truly, even in perfect weather I couldn't have taken images this nice.
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