Slieve League. Errigal. Muckish. The Mountains of Donegal.

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Another file from the archives from around 10 to 15 years ago. Donegal.  A trip arranged by Graeme and the hillwalking club I was in at that time. One of Alex and Graeme on the Slieve League ridge, At just under 2000 feet some of the highest sea cliffs in the UK and Western Europe.

Another one of the Slieve League sea cliffs. spectacular place but on any multi day trip, planned ahead, it's hard to predict what the weather will be when you arrive. The day we did this it was wild and cold with a howling gale blowing but luckily we still managed the full walk along the summit cliff edge.

Graeme, Alex, Alan and myself. 

Alan and Alex starting out on the Slieve League walk.

Alan on a knife edged arete.

Tricky in places given the strength of the wind and slick damp rock.

A waterfall on the sea cliffs.

Near the highest point on the ridge.

A different outing to do Errigal, at 752 metres, 2464 feet, the highest peak in Donegal. A sharp sided quartzite mountain  but no scrambling involved just a narrow but easy ridge.

The neighbouring mountains of Donegal.

Muckish in Donegal. Another fine mountain. 670 metres or 2198 feet. Cairngorm like in appearance. In the far distant geological past the Irish mountains, Scottish mountains, and the Appalachian mountain chain of the USA were all part of the same vast mountain range which is why they are eroded down to a similar height today- between 2000 and 5000 feet. Also why many departing Irish and Highland Scots felt a strange kinship when they viewed the Appalachians for the first time, without knowing the real reason why. Even though the trees and plants looked different- there was a similar familiar mountain height and visual appearance to come to grips with, instinctively within their comfort zone, that made folk settle there. Unlike the twelve to fourteen thousand soaring snow covered peaks of the Alps or Rockies. 

The Poison Glen in Ireland. Derryveagh range. As a Scottish visitor seeing them for the first time I had that same instinctive connection and familiarity with them. Same type of rocks, general layout, height, and vegetation as in Glencoe. So in that respect familiar and comforting. This place also a treasured mecca for local rock climbers and hill walkers. If I rock climbed or walked here I would know roughly what to expect from the surrounding terrain and the routes up to the summits.

Whereas this... The Bossons Glacier on Mont Blanc, was an altogether different level of mountain. I enjoyed it....but I would never truly, (unconsciously)  feel at ease/ home here...I don't think, even in a mountain cabin in the valley below. I would probably still enjoy it though... for the difference. But in a strange huge country, especially if homesick, you start to look for the familiar.

Glenveagh National Park.

Another view of Errigal. Very impressive from this angle.

On the Errigal ridge with the mist drifting in and out. Touch of snow flurries and a biting wind again.

Alex on the summit ridge.

With the strong wind impressive sea conditions existed around the coast. I'm reminded of an 80 year old man I met many years ago while working in his house. Being young then I just viewed him as some old gezzer in a chair who was going to die soon and all his stuff would be tossed in a skip. Life over. Big deal. When I started talking to him though he came alive in front of me as a person. In his youth he'd been a prize-fighter in South America, been married 4 times, lived all over the planet, built his own construction company, erected tall buildings....earned but then lost a small fortune.... but now he was just some sick old guy stuck in a chair near Glasgow. ( he had the photographs and awards to prove his life story in his house.... and it was definitely him.)

The reason I'm telling this story and putting these photos up is that I myself often forget the places I've been or adventures I've had in the past. Going out every week and posting new walks I don't often dwell on back issues as highlights...until I see them again.... but they were. Fairly soon I'll be that old guy sitting in a chair... and all my stuff I've accumulated over the decades will be tossed into several skips... ( better make it large skips. :o) 99% of it worthless junk to anyone else but precious to me)     Such is life.   Making way for the young... as it should be. And to them I'll be just some other old guy in a chair.

Although I've been a fan of his for many years, as I sometimes watch open world games as films, if they have a good story ( Like.... The Last of Us. ( Ist one) , Bioshock Trilogy, What Remains of Edith Finch, Firewatch etc I didn't realise quite how successful this singer/songwriter/ musician had become. One of the most prolific and successful Indie singer /songwriters in Ireland over a wide range of different musical styles.  And well deserved. Here's a taste of it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N6hF3EaICxk&list=RDN6hF3EaICxk&start_radio=1

Also this....

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miracle_of_Sound

New Lanark at Christmas. Falls of Clyde. Arthur's Seat. Looking Backwards.

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I normally post up to date trips that I've done recently but a few months ago I found a couple of folders in a file from around 10 to 15 years ago that I thought would do nicely for a Christmas/New Year post. This is New Lanark at Christmas, a former self contained cotton mill town stuck down in a gorge to make use of the powerful River Clyde for industrial purposes. Water driven power.  Tourists, pre Victorian, Victorian, and post Victorian used to flock here, including the great and the good.  Drawn to see the pioneering developments and reforms of Robert Owen. late 1700s early 1800s, who looked after the welfare of his workers better than most in order to get the best out of them, and thus increase production.

I've been here around a dozen times over the decades but this solo visit was the most memorable as it coincided with icy conditions. Hard frost and a sprinkling of snow in the week before Christmas. Decorations up giving a cosy glow despite the sub zero temperatures. Twinkling in fact.

It was a winter wonderland.

One of the mills. New Lanark is now a tourist attraction. There is a car park just above the gorge and you walk down or you can drive down just to drop elderly/ disabled folk off then drive back up again to park. I've not been there for years so maybe there's a shuttle bus down now.

The other big draw being the Falls of Clyde, a spectacular set of waterfalls with the River Clyde plunging over a considerable drop and then down various rapids. Normally these days the water is sucked away to generate hydro electric power and you only really see its full glory after sustained heavy rain when they don't require extra water or during water release days when they let the full amount through. The falls are reached from a riverside path direct from New Lanark after a few km.. One winter I timed it perfectly, both to catch it in full spate conditions and then later here.... on this solo trip with a 10 day freeze up of between minus 5c to minus 20c cold spell over the mountains. 

In these conditions it was back to being spectacular again. A world of ice. Like something out the arctic regions. Mini ice bergs floating downstream.

Very impressive.

An ice cave....

Thick ice crystals coating all the trees around.

And I'll end with the beauty of Holyrood Park in Springtime. May in fact. Another solo Edinburgh bus trip many years ago when I was blown away by this unexpected golden flourish while ascending this ancient volcano and mini mountain. 

A carpet of yellow flowering gorse most of the way to the summit on this one memorable occasion.

And an equally delightful descent via the zig zags path. Happy New Year and best wishes for all of us in 2026.

https://newlanark.org/introducing-robert-owen/

River Leven Walk. Leven Swamp. Strathleven House.

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As it was a fairly murky day... in a month long run of very wet, murky, but thankfully mild days... Alan and I headed for Dumbarton. We parked here beside the River Leven and Levengrove Park then walked up the west bank of this river, seen above. A walk we had both done before, probably with different hillwalking friends, but not for a few years... five years at least....so this walk felt fresh again. 

A view from the car park of the River Leven flowing under the town's old stone bridge. In spate this is a short, winding, but very powerful river. It drains all 23 miles of Loch Lomond, a mere 10 miles away, and is surrounded by dozens of mountain streams so the catchment area is huge. The River Leven is the only outflow... which is why we were here. Powerful enough to be impressive... not high enough to flood the paths we were walking on... which does happen.

A dark deep river full of submerged currents, looking in places as if a giant sea monster was squirming just under the surface.  It is tidal for several miles inland. Unless you were a very good swimmer, experienced in turbulent rivers, there's a good chance you would be pulled under. Never to be seen again. Down at Dumbarton several moored boats are dragged under  each year, unless properly maintained and given enough slack rope on the mooring to allow for the rise and fall of the tide and spate conditions. I have seen a difference myself of around ten feet between summer river levels and full flood conditions in winter.

Bellsmyre and the Lang Craigs in winter sunshine. Just above Dumbarton, on this west side river track you pass the Leven Swamp. An area of undulating bumps and hollows that gets a fresh influx of flooding nearly every winter, resulting in this area of flood plain being permanently drowned year round as the various hollows can't drain back out again. Stagnant, freezing cold, and waist deep the only thing missing is poisonous snakes and alligators.

Luckily, a good tarmac path weaves through it popular with walkers and cyclists in summer.

It also passes under the main A82 heading north, the only fast glimpse most Munro baggers and tourists get of the River Leven heading up in their cars past Balloch and Loch Lomondside. This was a new mural for both of us. And a good one.

 Motorists will not see it though as they rush past on the road above.

A male goldeneye duck. Not a very good (rushed) photo but recognisable due to its distinctive white cheek patch. According to my bird book only Scandinavia and the Arctic are coloured in as its natural habitat... not the UK. And I don't remember ever seeing one before. But they may be winter visitors to the UK. Around three pairs here, males and females.

A berry tree. A winter lifeline for wild creatures.

A bend on the mighty River Leven. Robert The Bruce, King of Scotland, retired here for the last few years of his life. Living beside the River Leven in a small mansion house, hunting, fishing, boating, and wildfowling in this area until he passed away.

One person I'd never heard of though was Tobias Smollett. This is his memorial in Renton next to a school on the Main Street. An 18th century Poet, Writer and Surgeon, he's mainly known today for being an influence on Charles Dickens.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tobias_Smollett

This is also a good landmark as directly down from here a pedestrian bridge crosses the River Leven, the first walkers bridge since Dumbarton. We crossed here to walk down the other side of the river back to the car. This new path was not tarmac and was extremely muddy in places. We ended up with mud on the trousers up to knee level after a month of wet weather. Still enjoyable though. A hassle washing boots and trousers off in the sink later. Like wading through a chocolate factory.

We made a slight detour to let Alan see Strathleven House, an 18th century mansion now run by SHBT/ Dumbarton council? with various private offices inside. At one time the Vale of Leven was a major industry hub with a long string of factories making good use of water power from the river, using its exceptional year round flow to drive machines, textile mills, etc on both banks.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strathleven_House

Swirling water. Not as tranquil as it appears here. Fast flowing.

The underpass tunnel on the east bank with the A82 traffic thundering above.

Looking back at the A82.

Lusset Glen . Old Kilpatrick. Under the Erskine Bridge.

Canal Reflections.

Forth and Clyde canal. As it was only a 2 to 3 hour walk along the River Leven we stopped here as well.

Fungi breaking down a log.

The Romans did not get any further north than Old Kilpatrick/ Bowling on the West Coast. Put off by the tribal fortress of Dumbarton Rock and the savage mountains beyond with the threat of easy ambush in such wild country. This sculpture in Lusset Glen shows that and local industry maybe. Didn't see an info sign anywhere but this is how the Romans transported liquid goods.... wine etc...across the empire.

It certainly wasn't here the last time I visited.