12 Miles Down the Road
If you're driving north across the west of Scotland towards Buachaille Etive Mor and Glencoe beyond, you may happen to notice a road on the left hand side, more or less opposite the Kingshouse Hotel. At this moment you might want to think about hitting the indicator and heading along Glen Etive. If it's winter time when the deer come down off the mountainsides to feed on the low ground unhindered by midges, your journey will be all the more worthwhile. They'll also slow your progress down quite noticeably because at increasingly regular intervals the single track road becomes blocked with pockets of them milling around in the hope that you've come armed with a supply of carrots. We weren't suitably prepared for this, but a group of ladies in the car in front had done their homework, and kindly shared some with us on the understanding that we fed them to the deer instead of trying to eat them ourselves. If you don't remember to turn 180 degrees to feed the one that's waiting behind you, you may get a reminder in the form of a gentle nudge in the posterior.
Of course we'd planned this joyous 12 mile detour. I'd been a mile or two down this road a few months earlier on my previous visit to Scotland and had made a deal of fuss about ensuring we retraced those steps during our winter photography adventure. For most of the way the road hugs the River Etive as it crashes down towards the sea loch of the same name, and there are many places to stop, stare in complete and utter joy, and photograph its course. There aren't many places that have brought me to quite such a state of unconditional happiness as this.
And if you've managed to safely negotiate your way past the local four footed residents, you'll eventually arrive at a parking area. From here your car is no longer of any use. You'll need either a pair of stout walking shoes to negotiate its banks, or preferably a boat to continue your journey along the silent waters of Loch Etive. To the south are the slopes of Ben Starav, the summit of which is the highest in the neighbourhood at 1078 metres. The view from the top is something I'll have to just imagine for now, but one day soon I'm going to see it for myself. I just have to.
As long as I continue to breathe, the Highlands of Scotland will continue to steal the oxygen from my lungs. 12 miles to the middle of nowhere is a road worth taking in these parts.
12 Miles Down the Road
If you're driving north across the west of Scotland towards Buachaille Etive Mor and Glencoe beyond, you may happen to notice a road on the left hand side, more or less opposite the Kingshouse Hotel. At this moment you might want to think about hitting the indicator and heading along Glen Etive. If it's winter time when the deer come down off the mountainsides to feed on the low ground unhindered by midges, your journey will be all the more worthwhile. They'll also slow your progress down quite noticeably because at increasingly regular intervals the single track road becomes blocked with pockets of them milling around in the hope that you've come armed with a supply of carrots. We weren't suitably prepared for this, but a group of ladies in the car in front had done their homework, and kindly shared some with us on the understanding that we fed them to the deer instead of trying to eat them ourselves. If you don't remember to turn 180 degrees to feed the one that's waiting behind you, you may get a reminder in the form of a gentle nudge in the posterior.
Of course we'd planned this joyous 12 mile detour. I'd been a mile or two down this road a few months earlier on my previous visit to Scotland and had made a deal of fuss about ensuring we retraced those steps during our winter photography adventure. For most of the way the road hugs the River Etive as it crashes down towards the sea loch of the same name, and there are many places to stop, stare in complete and utter joy, and photograph its course. There aren't many places that have brought me to quite such a state of unconditional happiness as this.
And if you've managed to safely negotiate your way past the local four footed residents, you'll eventually arrive at a parking area. From here your car is no longer of any use. You'll need either a pair of stout walking shoes to negotiate its banks, or preferably a boat to continue your journey along the silent waters of Loch Etive. To the south are the slopes of Ben Starav, the summit of which is the highest in the neighbourhood at 1078 metres. The view from the top is something I'll have to just imagine for now, but one day soon I'm going to see it for myself. I just have to.
As long as I continue to breathe, the Highlands of Scotland will continue to steal the oxygen from my lungs. 12 miles to the middle of nowhere is a road worth taking in these parts.