But Mousie, thou art no thy-lane,
The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
It's been a month since my last post, a hopeful essay on how I planned to hang out with fellow hikers on Scotland's Rob Roy Way -- without actually hiking. I returned from Europe on Monday, and now have overcome my jet lag well enough to tell you how it all went.
And, in general, it went well -- despite certain aspects of my "scheme" that did "gang agley." First, and least surprising, it often was raining. In Scotland in early September! Are we surprised? But we always make our plans hoping for the most optimistic conditions. Secondly, my irritated right foot's Achilles tendon strain somehow expanded to include pain and stiffness in both legs, with a bizarre swelling in my left leg. Third, under the conditions of point 2 above, I wasn't able to bike the entire trail. And fourth, despite every immunization possible, and a positive Covid test result in May, I managed to contract a very mild case of Covid while in Scotland -- the symptoms were primarily frequent coughing at night while I attempted to sleep.
But despite these hurdles, I enjoyed the company of the friends I was with, I enjoyed the towns in which we spent each night, and I enjoyed -- as always -- Scotland itself.
As explained in the last post, along with a woman who had arthritis in her knee, I rode in the baggage transport van the first two days of the hike. The first day, we arrived in Aberfoyle at around 10 a.m., and filled the hours until our friends came dragging in on foot enjoying coffee and sweet rolls together, and then separating to explore the small town on our own. I spent much of the time in a beautiful city park, and then a cafe, reading a novel on my Kindle. The second day, we drove to Callender, where I was to rent a bike. The van driver very considerately offered to drive me directly to the bike rental facility, several miles out of town. The staff did an excellent job of choosing the best bike for me, considering my plans for its use. They gave me advice, and had me on the road within an hour. The trail at this point was essentially a small paved road, and rather than drive into Callender, I chose to head the other direction, back toward Aberfoyle, and see whether I could meet the gang. I waited for some time at what seemed a reasonable meeting spot, until finally I intercepted text messages between members of the party complaining that they were lost.
Being "lost" on the bike/pedestrian trail between Aberfoyle and Callender isn't the same as being lost in the Cascade Mountains of Washington, but I could see a delay developing. I biked back the way I'd come, entered Callender and located the B&B where we would be spending the night, and then returned to my novel.
The next two days --to Strathyre and then to Killin -- were the most fun of the Rob Roy experience for me and my bike. Part of the time I was biking along with my fellow hikers, and at other points I was off on my own, following a bike trail that ventured far away from the trail followed by the hikers.
In Killin, we were scheduled to spend two nights, because of the lack of accommodations available at Ardtalnaig -- a van was to take the hikers back at the end of the first day, and return them to the same spot the next morning. But apparently the hike into Killin had been exhausting, and everyone chose to take a day off hiking and just hang around Killin. Which was fine with me.
I studied carefully the route for the final two days, from Ardtalnaig to Aberfeldy, and then to Pitlochry, and realized that even the bike route was beyond my present abilities -- because of steepness and roughness of portions of the trail, and the difficulty I was having in my legs and the symptoms that I hadn't yet learned were symptoms of Covid. So I turned my bike over to the van company, who agreed to return it to the rental facility, and happily rode with my fellow disabled traveler to each city.
It's easy to focus on the logistics and pain in getting from one day's rest to the next, rather on the beauty of the country in which one travels. And most of the country was truly beautiful, even -- or maybe especially -- in the drizzle. I have only to look back on my photos to marvel at how little much of the Rob Roy Way and its villages have changed over the decades. I'd love to go back, in better physical condition, and do the actual walk, as planned.
So "gang agley" doesn't always result in "grief an' pain."
The fact that I feel so satisfied with the my Scotland experience this year, despite all that went "agley," was largely made possible by the advice and help offered by the company that organized the hike and lined up our accommodations. I'll give them a free plug -- Mickledore Walking Holidays in Keswick, Cumbria. This was the ninth walk in Britain I've done with assistance from Mickledore, beginning with the Hadrian's Wall hike in 2010. They have never disappointed me.
We assembled our last night in Pitlochry, after which three of our group took the train to Glasgow, from which they flew home. We three others, however, took another train to London, from where we flew to Milan. But that's another story, to be told in the next post!
