WHAT A DAY! WOW! That felt tremendous. I don’t think epic quite caps it despite the elements of thrill, but maybe mesmerising, especially when I recall the early morning sunrise + serenity simmering throughout my hike. I have had my eye on these hills for a while and for good reason! Spectacular views sweeping far and wide, Scotland is certainly something else!
It felt great to be out and freely enjoying hiking once again, and this place is a gem. I know I would feast upon these hills frequently if I was living nearby. I couldn’t help but dream about this throughout the day, which is unusual for me.
The Sky
I always rave about Scotland when discussing places to explore in Britain, talking about how rugged + wild many spaces are, and how the people are generally proud yet very welcoming. But the key distinction when you cross that border, something I noticed on my first train journey along the east coast of Britain as a kid, was THE SKY. You look up and around you, and just know you are somewhere else. Yes the terrain transforms, but the atmosphere is alive and inviting, smouldering + enticing, and heck yeah I was charmed (just look at the cover photo of this article).
The Hike
Regional Park
Before I trace my tracks, let me tell you about the Lomond Hills Regional Park. In 1986 it became Scotland’s first regional park, and is a place whistling with wilderness and human activity including reservoirs, farms, forests and archaeology. It is 65km2 in size, and situated in the county of Fife, which is north of Edinburgh, and south of Dundee. Apparently on a good day you can see as far north as the Cairngorms National Park, and as far south as The Scottish Borders, and after this adventure I can believe it!
Trail
I began at Craigmead car park and planned to hike anti-clockwise, but when trawling towards West Lomond I took a glance at the stunning sunrise along the horizon of East Lomond and was annoyed. Bewildered with what was unfolding, but frustrated I didn’t have a front-row seat. I dithered, but when I saw West Lomond + Bishop Hill smothered with cloud, I ran back to the car park and wheeled away to East Lomond Hill.
I was vindicated with vivid views overlooking nearby towns and Forth Estuary, then decided to walk clockwise towards Glassie. From here I continued to bear south around Ballo and Holl reservoirs, then swept west towards the mighty woods of Munduff Hill. After a spot of lunch I veered north along Bishop Hill towards West Lomond Hill where I had to troubleshoot a mishap with the technology in my trousers (my phone!). This did cause chaos at first, but with some intuitive orientation I was able to casually awe at the sunset on the summit, then cruise back to East Lomond Hill to complete my circular walk of roughly 26km.
Highlights
THAT special sunrise
I was HOOKED from the moment those orange hues streamed across my eyes and hovered above the clouds couched on the horizon. It felt like a rebirth revealed in slow, seductive motion as the sun shed its shell with finesse. The energy oozed with profuse pleasure, my pulse pounded with each picture.
I forgot who I am, lost where I was, as I wobbled backwards away from the whipped flames fanning across the sky. It didn’t take me long to realise I was going in the wrong direction, and although I fumbled my plan I will never forget this special sunrise.
Perspective
How lovely and affirming it felt to be able to see the rim of the park and many of its features wherever I went! Like the picture below, as I ambled back to East Lomond Hill, I could see, from left to right, Bishop Hill, Harperleas Reservoir, then West Lomond Hill. My circular walk mimicked a tour along a scribble-like circumference of a stadium. The views inside and out kept evolving from a diverse flurry of flora + fauna to clusters of civilisation that kept me curious.
Dwindling battery
Cinematic scenes had me clicking away snapshots on my smartphone, but I forgot to account for the windchill that suddenly sent my battery life spiralling! Although I was using digital mapping, I always have a paper backup, but still I was in a panic: the light was dimming and I was low on fuel. So I lit up my limbs and scrambled across the moorland as my phone recharged. It was fun to run and exciting to be on edge, but a tad annoying that I couldn’t let my surroundings soak in.
East Lomond
The view from the summit was shrouded in cloud so I didn’t get to see much from there, but the panoramas from East Lomond Car Park were profoundly epic! Yes, the whole hike may not have been (which isn’t a bad thing), but this viewpoint was certainly a pinnacle worthy of lavish praise. If there is one spot you had to visit in the regional park, this would be it! I would definitely go back and let it marinate more.
Munduff Hill
What would it be like to live in a forest? Foraging on fruits for alms, planting new roots with bare palms, taking off your boots to feel the fresh earth underfoot. Sometimes a life dedicated to everyday survival is the most fulfilling because you are living in that moment, just for that day. I have no experience of this of course in such settings so I’m speculating. But what is certain is how the acoustic + olfactory textures tranquilise you on entry. Who needs a car scent when you can have the real thing? I would happily try it one day, but for now, wandering through woodland like that on Munduff Hill will thrill me plenty.
Kinnesswood + Loch Leven National Nature Reserve
Not long after Munduff Hill I hovered around the steep edges of Bishop Hill and had the chance to admire the wide expense of Loch Leven NNR foregrounded by the small settlement of Kinnesswood. I kicked it on the crags to the cascading sounds of children having fun in the school playground down below. When surrounded by so much life you can probably see why at times throughout the hike I imagined living here.
Lessons
Electronics
This was the second time I had an episode of dwindling battery, which leads me to ask several questions: do I play on my phone too much when outdoors? Do I need be more careful with my phone, or get one better designed for the weather? I’m not sure, as you can say yes to all those questions but that would imply it is a hindrance. Technology can supplement and enhance the experience by enabling you to appreciate things more. Just find the right balance.
Aim high, for the best (regret?)
Dithering. Hesitation. Caution. It’s a fine balance between safety and risk, and I guess as the idiom goes you rather be safe than sorry. But I’m not silly, and need to trust in my instincts more and go all out with that raw, child-like inner core when I’m out playing. I’m here to have fun, and know my limits. I admit regret hung over me as the day went on that I didn’t turn up at East Lomond from the off, but without that move I will never have this lesson.
Persevere
I was nearly in a pickle, up a creek without a paddle as they say, when my battery nearly blew. But I persevered. I’m making a deal of it because this is my context for this trip. It’s the goal, to keep on going and not look back. Learn but persist towards my vision instead of dwelling in the doldrums. I had faith in myself, grinded it out instead of grinding to a halt, and made it back in good time as twilight melted into the night.
Start + Finish
If I was to return to the Lomond Hills, I would start at East Lomond before sunrise then glow in its glamour, then roll up at West Lomond to soak in the sun taking its last breaths as it sets over the heavenly horizon. Instead of harbouring regret, I like going away with an incentive to return and do it all again in a different way.
drBACKPACK 