Sunday 1 May (0740-1555) (East of Muthill to S of Loch Lednock)
Distance: 18.25 miles (Tot: 616)
Weather: A couple of lenticular clouds in the distance didn't hinder the wall-to-wall sunshine. Hot.
Our night in the farmer’s field was quiet – and a touch nippy. The sun had melted most of the frost by the time I ventured out of the tent and took this photo:
Being forced onto the road shortly after setting off, due to a large industrial business (complete with security guard) blocking our way on the old railway line, we had to wonder whether a) the road used to be significantly wider; b) cars can only travel south if they’re really narrow; or c) the line-marker was having an off day:
We thought we were going to be on the road all the way into Crieff, but a finger post suggested that there was a path alongside the river, and so there was:
Even better, on the other side of Crieff we were able to take another riverside path:
Mick walked straight past Mole’s House without noticing it:
I called him back for a bit of perspective. I bet lots of children (and me!) walking along this path are delighted with it:
We had to put up with yet more of those blue skies. Hard life…
As the morning wore on, we rejoined the disused railway line and found that it was more passable than the earlier sections – that is until we got to the bit where the old bridge was missing. Mick fought his way across before I looked at the map and realised that we’d overshot our destination. He came back and we sat and had lunch. Ten minutes into the afternoon session I realised that I’d got ahead of myself on the map and that we did need to still be on the railway line after all. We were picturing another couple of miles of fighting through overgrowth, but within minutes it had become a wide farm track, allowing us to stride along.
Lumpy bits then appeared in the near distance. Lumpy bits are good!
On reaching the lumpy bits it was HOT and we couldn’t resist a bit of a foot-dunking in a stream:
I didn’t take any photos of the plumes of smoke a short way to the north-west, but fortunately when we spotted a nice pitch we decided to stop, rather than carrying on (as we had intended) in the direction of the smoke. It was 2am when I realised the significance of the smoke. In the meantime, I was happy as a pig in a wallow:
Pretty good pitch?
Must be time for tea:
My original witterings about the day can be seen here.