WHW Day 3: Rowardennan to Invreraman

Boots on, we hit the trail early.  Today the trail was reputed as tough: a rough, hilly path through the wilderness along Loch Lommond.  The end of the day should see us 14.5 miles further up the trail at the top of the Loch.  

First thing on, we spied some feral goats.  These are descendants of livestock that people were forced to abandon during the Highland Clearances, brutal aristocratic land grabs that forced thousands off their home and farms.

The forest were peaceful and quiet, and the terrain started to get more rugged.  We couldn't see Ben Lommond, the giant mountain that sits moodily over the lake, and I'm glad we decided not to spend the extra day for a climb as we would have a view of a cloud for most of the day.

 We went through a gate and entered Craigrostan Woods.

This was a magic place.  Due to the range of mountains that dropped down into this part of Loch Lommond, this rugged part of Scotland had some of the last old-growth forest in the UK.  Wise old oak trees clung to the steep slopes, moss and steeply undulating dirt path made for some serene walking.  I slowed down to take it all in- this is the kind of place that deserves a slow, quiet walk to take it all in.

There were lots of waterfalls and stream crossings on this bit of trail.

Also, Elvis.

He was doing various stunts for Cancer Research: skinny dipping in the Loch, donning blue suede hiking boots.  It was amusing as hell to hear Elvis speak with a thick Scots accent.

We came to Inversnaid, a hotel that marked the only sign of life on this trail.  The hotel had a view of a waterfall that had a nice deep swimming hole.  Someone decided to go for a swim.  That someone wasn't me.  Bry mustered up the courage to go for a quick dip.  Seriously- it took him longer to take off all his clothes then to get in and out of the pool with a great deal of bellowing.  The water here is on a different level of coldness, and even though the air was warm and muggy. an ice bath wasn't calling my name.

It was a nice place to stop for lunch though, and I watched dippers and grey wagtails hopping about the shoreline.

Back on the trail, we decided to take a detour up a RSBP side trail.  It ended up being a really strenuous climb.

Once we got to the top of the hill, we were rewarded with  a moody and dark view of the entire Loch, with no other people willing to spend the extra energy on the climb, we had the mountainside blissfully to ourselves.

That is Ben Lommond, obscured by a cloud in the top of the picture:

We rejoined the main trail and had several hours of good walking, seeing lots of critters along the way.

We stumbled upon a herd of red deer, on of the great symbols of the wild highlands.

After about five minutes of quietly sneaking up on them, I realized they weren't afraid of me at all.  In the end, I had to wave my arms and shout to get them to move off the trail, which they did reluctantly.

We also came across our first Bothy.  These are small, basic stone huts that are unlocked and free to use.  They have a fireplace and a couple of platforms to put your bedding on, and that's about it.  There's a whole network of them, and you can walk across Scotland taking advantage of free shelter if you wanted to.

We hit the end of Loch Lommond and began our climb into Inveraman.  We had been walking at such a leisurely pace that hikers who had started in Balmaha- seven miles further than we had walked- has caught up to us.  Spiritual old forest, a waterfall swim, lunch and bird watching and a climb for the view meant that it was getting dark by the time we neared our destination.  Everyone we met on the trail, and at the pub that night, complained about how hard the trail had been.  It was rocky and steep, but to me that is a trail.  I guess the fact that you could drive a truck down the rest of the West Highland Way meant the worst/best was behind us.

I kept nearly stepping on these tiny toads; there were dozens of them and they were so well camouflaged that you had to be really careful where you put your foot down.  

Really now.  You take a toad and make it tiny, and suddenly it becomes adorable.

We made our way into town, which consisted of a campground and a pub and a busy road.  After such a peaceful day of quiet walking, it felt kind of stressful.

Pied wagtail

In the end, we would have been better off at the campsite bunks.  The hotel, ancient and historic and filled with an impressive collection of creepy taxidermy creatures, seemed like it hadn't been renovated since the war.  It was reputed to be haunted, perhaps by an angry ghoul who will only rest when they decide to redecorate and toss all the moth-eaten bits of kilt into a rubbish heap.   While the low-ceiling dark pub was a unique and cozy place for a post-walk refuel, it just seemed like a sad and overpriced relic being held together with spit and paper.  

Oh, and tell me: since when is Rob Roy the judge of all things quality?  The man hid out in a cave for christsakes.  

I have found though- I can sleep through hauntings and drafts and creaks and groans after a long walk and a dram.

Vintage Costa Rica

My recent travels inspired me to dig up some pictures from my last trip to CR.  A trip around Arenal to hike, then off to the beach- Playa Grande and Playa Azucar.  This seems to be a theme...

In retrospect, I am happy that I've splurged on a DSLR.  Oh, those pixels!  Digital photography has really come a long ways.  

Primordial Soup Bathtime!

Alas, it was time to say goodbye to the beach, and move on with things.  Up next, we drove back to Liberia, past the town, and up a rustic road to get to Rincon de la Veja park for some steamy hot volcanic action.

It was rumored to be less crowded than nearby Arenal, which has been dormant for a few years now.  It was also very close to the airport, so it worked nicely to maximize our time there.  Also, excellent hiking.  

The downside:  the road leading up to the park has several private "adventure lodges".  Take your pick, they are all the same, and they are the only place where one could possibly stay in this area.  No cute B&Bs, not a single hotel or hostel once you leave Liberia.  Just...adventure lodges.  We chose the only one that had availability, but they were all pretty much the same.  They try to sell you activity packages of rafting and tubing and horseback riding and ziplining, all within the confines of their property.  Which is all well and good, but I tend to like more quiet nature activities.  I want to go rafting, but I don't want to go rafting with drunk college students.  

Speaking of which...our hotel had plenty of college students, along with a pool with a swim-up bar that appeared that no one had gotten out to pee outside of the pool in quite some time.  There was a busload of students from a state school in Kentucky which I will not name.  Ugh, they were terrible.  Sitting at breakfast, having a group of boys three tables over loudly discuss which sorority sisters they want to bang, and who banged whom, and how much they can competitively drink, and who passes out the most, and what "nasty skanks" they declared certain ladies in the group to be.  Thanks for embarrassing yourself and looking like complete douche bags in a foreign land, you terrible wastes of your parent's money.  I wish for the pox to afflict them.  

Aside from spending as little time around the hotel as humanly possible, it's quite a nice area totally worth exploring.  We found out later that you can camp at the park for just a few bucks a day.  We should have done that instead.  Oh, the odd thing about Costa Rica is that they have their own currency which is tapped into the US currency fluctuations.  Most places will accept US dollars, except for small local places and street vendors.  

When we got to our lovely adventure lodge on Sunday afternoon, we saw a big sign on the wall : Rincon Park is closed on Mondays.  

Really?

We drove all the way out here and the Park was going to be closed on the day we planned to go?  Costa Rica is a bit disorganized with getting this sort of information out on websites and whatnot.

We hopped in the car and despite the late hour, tried to make it to the Park before the gate closed.  There, the ranger informed us that no, we can't hike at this late hour, yes, the park is indeed closed on Mondays, but...there is another sector of the park that IS open on Mondays, and it wasn't too far away at all.  We decided that it wasn't the end of the natural world after all, and planned to come back to the park for a very early morning hike on Tuesday before our flight.  Living dangerously is our specialty.

Meanwhile, the park ranger directed us to a private trail with a waterhole and swimming hole.  What would be a more perfect place to cool off then a waterfall in the middle of the jungle?  

No place.

The volcano was completely obscured under cloud cover, and occasionally, the wind would blow in rain drops.

The next morning we woke early, drove down a series of very rough roads to the Maria sector of the park.  It was indeed open, and we were there early enough to be the first ones on the trail.

Through the enchanted forest we hiked, seeing so many birds and butterflies.

This sector of the park is known for its springs, so it's a good idea to bring something to swim around in.

 This strangler ficus was busy strangling a boulder:

Which was really interesting to get a clear view of how it does its thing.

There were plenty of really lovely spots.  I had a nasty spill at this waterfall- trying to scramble over slippery rocks is clearly not my specialty.  I ended up badly bruising my hand, my wrist, and my hip, but nothing was broken so I kept hiking.  The hip bruise was enormous though.  I took pictures.  I don't think I've ever gotten a bruise that large before.

There were Blue Morpho butterflies everywhere!  They were enormous, but too fast for me.  When they rest, they do so with their wings folded up and they look like a brown leaf.  When they fly, you see brilliant flashes of blue.

We reached a hot sulfur spring, where water was bubbling up from under ground and into a stream.  People had walled off a bit so you can sit and bask in the hot water.  While sitting in hot springs was much more gratifying when we were in Iceland, it did feel oddly good to have a warm soak, with occasional dips in the fresh cold stream.

The sulfur turned the water the most magic shade of aqua, and the surrounding rocks were the tell-tale yellow.

The downside: you will smell like sulfur for the rest of the day.  So will your clothes.

They also had a cold spring, with sulfuric waters bubbling up in pots in what looks like a landscape that a brontosaurus would find comforting.

It was a really nice hike.  The ranger had said it would only take two hours, but we were there for at least six, basking in pools and springs and really taking our time and observing birds and butterflies.  Afterwards, we stopped at a commercial enterprise which ran a well-known hotspring and mudbath.  There were a series of man-made pools built up along a stream, and each one further away from the source spring was a bit cooler than the last, so you can take a nice soak in whatever tub you felt most comfortable.  For about $10 you could sit there all day.