Glentrool to Craigenbay: E2 Day 41

This morning's path ran among sunlight dappled oaks and birch as it shadowed the river to Loch Trool. After the Loch it was forestry, moors and more lakes for the rest of the day.

My meal last night at the Hotel o'Hill was lovely, roast venison in a room which held me in a warm embrace. The waitress said I had a "radio voice", probably the effect of my cold, but flattering nevertheless. A number of the other diners had dogs, much spoilt by the staff. One beefy dog had "Stick Rescue" written on his harness, which I found unduly amusing.

Although it rained overnight I woke in the early hours to see clear skies with a myriad of stars. As there are few settlements to cause light pollution the area (Galloway Forest Park) has "Dark Sky" status. I was glad the campsite respected this by not overdoing the lighting, although one motorhome, with outside lighting, had not got the message.

To rejoin the Southern Upland Way from the campsite I followed a path in the trees beside the road. All along the footway there were collections of painted pebbles left by someone, with cheerful messages such as "Be Happy" and a topical reference to the life of our recently deceased queen.

Painted pebbles.

This morning's walk followed the River Cree and its tributaries up to Loch Trool. Although the river was rarely visible, the pretty path wound its way among oaks, birch, holly, hazel and others. There seemed a plan to restore the oak woodlands that existed in the valley before people changed the landscape. Beside the path thick, bright green moss carpeted the ground, or else it was covered by bilberries, ferns or heather, always something to enjoy as the light filtered through the trees. Apart from a few muddy hollows the trail was well made with handy bridges. 

Path up from Glentrool.

Pools of still water looked especially black, nothing visible beneath, dotted with yellow leaves signing the start of Autumn, the mirror surface reflected the trees above. Streams and rivers were similarly coloured by peaty blackness but it was broken by riffles and rapids, where the water foamed, off white as it tumbled over rocks. On the steep sides of the broad valley through which I was walking, burns cascaded down in thin waterfalls.

Black pools of water.

More people were out today than I had expected for such a remote area. We all had to brave intermittent showers of varying length and intensity, a change from the clear skies with which the day started.

Loch Trool.

Leaving Loch Trool I climbed over a bare, moorland pass on a gravel road, descending on the other side to another lake, Loch Dee. Then a tiring stretch of forest track among conifers, either I am not as fit as I should be or I am getting old. My aching left knee was complaining. Eventually I reached Clatteringshaws Loch and the road which marked the end of this stage in the guidebook. Time to find a spot to camp. I discounted a viewpoint by the lake due to all the empty cider cans and general detritus combined with recent car tyre marks, left by people I had no wish to meet. I followed a long path heading north, part of tomorrow's stage, but there were no spots suitable for camping. The path seemed to be a causeway, a raised, dry route surrounded by bog each side comprising of clumps of rush with hidden water filled holes and channels. I worried I might have to camp on the path itself but fortunately, on entering an area of mature trees on higher ground I found an excellent spot to pitch my tent on a bed of pine needles, up a small path near a large rock outcrop. Evidently used before, there was a half constructed "lean to", but the people involved had been considerate enough to remove all their rubbish.