Scotnatrail 10-12 Slateford to Caddar. Canal, canal, canal

Day 10. Slateford to Lithlingrow. On Union canal

I get up at 6. Wonderfully it’s sunny outside, after yesterday’s torrential rain. Struggle with my can of beans - ring pull is nonsience and the can openers are terrible. I struggle packing quietly - bag not as compact as could be, then have a bit of confusion with buses - try south street, then walk to princes street, see the bus I want drive past- bus chaos, wriggling past each other! But fantastic to have so many :) finally get in bus 44 to Allen Park Road. (I’ve also learnt the excellentness of using Apple Pay to save fafing with my waist wallet. So many interesting people to watch from the bus. Cities might be tough but all these hundreds of different people manage it.

I didn’t get to visit Craiglockhart, Which is a shame as I’d been listening to someone talk about dulce et decorum est, on a podcast last night, and have been thinking about the war poets.

I reach the water of leith visitor centre spot on 9 - perfect, just like a normal day walking. First crossing the long Slateford Aquaduct. Now, only 33km to go! - my first ever 20 mile day. Today is completely on the Union canal. No need at all for maps - what was all my fuss for? . The flatness should be a blessing but I am dreading the hard surface and dullness.

The tarmac makes it hard to use my pole behind me to propel which impacts my speed.

I ate my first blackberries of the year - the ones on the tip of the bunch ripening early.

Chat to a lovely man who points out to me the rope marks on stone bridges from where horses tugged the canal boats. - he says ‘please, take your time, enjoy!’

I am thankful for the return of lovely weather. The route may be unchanging, but the plants are at their best, and birds sing in the trees, or pick fallen berries of the tow path. The swanlets have grown nearly to full size - sleek and grey swimming behind their parents.

A water sports centre, and a group of kids kayaking the canal - not many facing forward!

By 10:30 reached proper countryside, though still cut with noisy roads.

Walking and walking along the quiet canal. A few narrow boats now and again but rarely.

Thank god for the peace of it. This is a pace of life I can deal with, a pace where I can comprehend all I need to, and anticipate and plan. The city pace, the logistics pace is too much for me. Maybe if I was less of an obsesssive planner I would relax a bit more and be free in it. The good thing about planning so much is things don’t normally go wrong, but the bad thing is that when things do go wrong I get very stressed! But sadly I remain in the habit of investing everything in everything I do. But here, out here with nothing to do, I thrive.

As I head towards Ratho- passed by a guy speeding madly on a (motored?) skateboards. the canal passes a grand house.

I can feel the weather changing. I catch sight of the Forth suspension Bridge again, a bit shocked I haven’t passed it - but then again it looked a long way from Edinburgh from the top of Pentland hills. I see some huge cherries, just too far out of reach. The rowan too is spectaular: it’s large berries the bright orange red that is its distinctive gift to the countryside.

Information boards informs about the Scottish Open Canal jump competition (long jump across the canal!) and the Pop Inn with doors at both ends so barge men can walk by have a drink in time to catch the horses on the towpath.

Find a lovely cafe in Ratho - get a jacket potato because why not, & tea. I think they over charged me though (by accident) but I should have asked for a receipt. I’d expected it to be raining by the time I finished lunch but apparently not! The sun shines even hotter!

Then along the towpath I see a sign to Edinburgh international climbing arena and go explore- it’s a HUGE building. It claims to be the world’s largest climbing area - I get a fruit pastel lolly and watch climbers through the window

At ‘welkins basin’ on an island in the canal there’s a funny little wooden castle -

Like a small version of the one in the at the Croft. I wonder who built it, and why the effort - they must have brought a boat with it all to the island.

I’m so thankful this walk started in actual Walker territory - pennine way, st cuthberts way, otherwise I would feel so out of touch and out of place. Here there are enough strollers and cyclists but no one at all like me.

It becomes hotter and hotter - I’m pretty stunned by the heat. And beautiful.

A huge viaduct seem from the canal. And there’s a really strange red Sandy formation to the right as well - I’d think it was a man made heap of not so large - strange. It’s called Greensyles Bing. Turns out it is man made- it’s apparently a spoil heap from the shale industry.

The land here is flat - in the plain of the Firth of Forth I guess. I can see planes taking off behind me and across the plain, industrial estates, farms and housing estates.

The three pillars of the Forth suspension bridge are now nearly overlapping with each other - due north of me.

It’s a bit depressing when I calculate I’m only half way (or even under halfway depending on app). OS maps say 16.5km to go. Maps.me says 19. It’s 3pm. Walking till 9 is fine. But 12 hours is a bit much.

I go straight through Broxburn to shortcut a slight wiggle of the canal. That will save half a Km at least. It seems a sad town, with most places closed.

A small raspberry is essential to cheer me up. I’m theory it should be obvious. If I’m used to doing 20km days around 4-5pm, then I should expect to have another 4 hours for the final ten kms around and after dinner time. But it’s still a big psychological struggle. Just like my first time I did over 20km days. I knew today would be a challenge ever since I plotted it, but it’s still a surprise to find it so. One day (hopefully by the end of this trail!) days over 30km will seem as simple as days over 20 now do, like they are to all the other hikers I’ve met) but I need to cross some personal hurdles first.

I also need to be more conscious of the heat. I haven’t drunk much.

3:50. Done all I can listening to the sounds about and my thoughts inside. It’s finally podcast time.

I reach right up to the base of the big red bing (good name).

I suddenly remember I’ve got a bar of chocolate in my outside of my bag! Find some rocks beside the towpath and take off my boats. A couple from Sheffield on fancy electric bikes stop for ‘a mechanical’ - they’re in holiday and cycling from Edinburgh to Falkirk today - they’d been to see the climbing centre and fallen off on the steps down. They said the Falkirk kelpies are amazing - looking forward to camping near there. It’s good chocolate! I enjoy feeling entitled to eat a lot. And it’s baking here I probably should put on suncream but effort. I’m always fairly covered up and my hat is on 90% of the time - for sun when it’s out, or to keep the rain out my face. There are a lot of cyclists passing - it’s a popular route.

As I head toward Winchburgh I see an interesting castle - Nisddry Castle - where Mary queen of Scots stayed for a bit on her flight. I walk into Winchburgh and go to the Tally Ho Inn for a nice cool lemonade, toilet and water supply. Friendly barkeeper. Been able to charge my phone twice today which is good, given how much I’ve used it. Get a ‘happy trails man’ as I leave - a very American greeting from a Scot.

13!!km to go. Back on the canal midges are about. The 3l I’ve filled up with are heavy - I intend to have dinner before I get anywhere but still, do I need so much? Unsure so better to be cautious. Yay now I’m on the western side of the fourth bridge! (Though closer to it now). Dad says I can stop earlier. But I can’t (not only logistically- I have to do this and do my first 20 mile day.

At 6:40 I stop in some woods by the canal and boil water for my meal.

But then, over dinner., looking over and over my maps I decide that some woods further along the canal probably is a better idea for camping than the off route detour I had planned. That makes today only 25km- how have I found it so hard? It is annoying, not being able to proove what I can walk, but this is no short cut (it’s avoiding a big detour actually) and at the end of the day I should look after my body.

I phone mum after dinner and wait till eight. Walking on, the canal is banked by huge slopes of more ‘bings’. They look unstable.

I enter the gnarly dark wood I had looked to camp at. After scouting out the whole woodland and desciding I’m satisfied, I choose a spot at the top of a hill in the woods in a ring of young hawthorn - is that good luck? Sounds in the woods though freak me out. There are well warn paths so it is clearly popular.

I am very conscious that I Do Not Like this place. It is a place for witches if anyplace was. A place where the crows calling In the woods sound like children, and the wind in the trees like footsteps. There are enough creepy crawlees at least. No one saw me put up the tent and yet. I do not think I could feel at ease here whatever. my tent to an extent is my castle - shelter and veil.

Oh to be back in PROPER countryside - to be back on the Three Brethren not this urban rural land (very much like Warwickshire).

One very good thing is this might be the first time I have been able to set my tent up on properly flat ground- it has much more space inside when set up properly, none of the walls sag.

As the light fades I start to feel more secure. No one will be out for walks at this time in a gnarly wood. I suspect dog walkers will be up with me in the early morning, but mornings never seem as scary as evening.

Zooming out on my maps.me points, I’m pretty chuffed - even I in theory I’m only 0.2045 of the way, it looks pretty impressive on the map where I’ve got to!

Day 11 - philipstoun to Falkirk wheel - on Union Canal

Morning wales slowly, without condensation. Pack everything in the tent then pack outside. I leave camp 8:30 with the theme tune of Firefly in my head - it’s clouded over today. They talked of torrential rain, but it won’t come yet. The birds are calling, so I listen to my thoughts rather than putting on a podcast. I realise I really miss Bilberry. - haven’t felt too bad about it so far, but I could do with a cuddle. Or her curling up on my sleeping bag at night.

I stop for breakfast and phone Drymen post office ‘we haven’t had any deliveries yet this morning’ AHHHH. Dad says it will be okay. Headphone time then definitly to quiet these thoughts. Funny ppp jokes soon get me smiling again. Retired ladies walking along the towpath, and a paddle border whitsyling down the canal as I head into Linlithgow. By a lovely dock of Lithlingow Union Canal society boats, is a statue of a cat which makes me happy. This area is decorated with flowers and very pretty so I decide it’s worth exploring the town - an intriguing dovecot.

Glad I do as it’s a fascinating old place with ‘a grand civic focus’ at the central cross. Lots of choice of cafes too - stop at ‘the coffeee neuk’ advertising gluten-free options- indeed a very impressive gf carrot cake.

Looking up Lithlingow on Wikipedia I went down a Wikipedia hole on folk etemology - recommend; for example I learnt: “The phrase curry favour, meaning to flatter, comes from Middle English curry favel, "groom a chestnut horse". This was an allusion to a fourteenth-century French morality poem, Roman de Fauvel, about a chestnut-colored horse who corrupts men through duplicity. The phrase was reanalyzed in early Modern English by comparison to favour as early as 1510”- the more you know

The tower church of st Michaels has a strange metal crown: designed in the 60s to symbolise Christ’s crown of thorns.

The town also has the claim of being the site of the first murder with a gun in Scotland, and being the first place where chloroform was developed for medical use (which led to another Wikipedia hole about the fascinating Sir James Young Simpson, who popularised choloroform use as anaesthesia - after initial trials of lots of new chemicals on himself and his friends- increadible luck for medicine they survived!). Oh and it’s also the birthplace of Mary Queen of Scots and James V (and Alex Salmond (and Montgomery Scott of Star Trek apparently is to be born here in 2222)

I spend probably far too long in Lithlingow, but I’m tired - my head is not necessarily painful, just out of it. Life is to be enjoyed. Therefore I will sit reading Wikipedia over tea and cake. Walking late might actually be a good aim- given what yesterday’s Sheffield couple said about the lights at the Kelpies in the evening.

I wanted to visit St Michaels but there seems to be a concert on inside - violin and piano. Strange to host a recital at midday in a Wednesday. But it seems beautiful. Yet another place to return to one day and visit proply.

I get back to the tow path 12:40. 17 lm to go

I put away my map - no help given by knowing how far to go or tracking each 100m. Pass an old scout centre - 1st West Lothian sea scouts, which makes me smile- another inland sea scouts. though the windows are boarded its flag pole still standing.

I reach the Avon (good name for a river?) aquaduct: second longest in Britain after that one in wales. I can see someone camping down below by the river - good spot. It starts to rain so I stop for tea and crisps at Bridge 49 Cafe, get to charge and put on my waterproof bottomed, though it wasn’t very welcoming.

I stop at a ginormous Tesco’s (opposite a HM Young offenders institute)

for some fruit, hand gel, and hot chocolate powder (wish I was resupying here as they have everything but no need to) and to use their loos.

Rain comes in heavily for the next stretch. Passing under the ‘happy and sad’ bridge 61 (with one carved faces on both side the canal contractor went bust) as I approach the Falkirk Tunnel. little gold painted rocks are by the side- part of a local treasure trail.

The Falkirk tunnel. Nearly 700m. It is long and strange. Scary and magical, sometimes brick lined, sometimes lined only by the vault of raw stone: the cracks and crags reflected in symmetry below as above. The bedding is nearly flat so the rock appears in steps where exposed and broken. A string of coloured lights exists too in parallel: wobbling on the still water. The stone is sometimes coloured yellow and always water drips from unseen sources. Sometimes small stalactites cling to the roof glimmering in the lamps, or calcite runs in a sheen of curtain down the walls. Sometimes the tunnel is square and dark, sometimes a perfect arch, slick in multicoloured lining from years of drips composing thick layers on the walls. Sometimes holes in the roof disappear into dark depths. The voices of a family following far behind me echo loudly. Finally to leave the other end. It is odd how variable it was, brick, concrete, carved stone, backed rock. At an information sign I learn the upward holes are the shafts from which the navvies dug - brave men.

Only 3.3km from here to the whee

. But very sore feet require a rest up on a bench. I am very thankful I bought a banana at Tesco’s. It’s past dinner time.

As I get near to the wheel, a couple ladies who’s overtaken me are coming back - say the tunnels been closed! (Which is a real shame, been excited. So I turn back and walk with them the other route -But we chat a bit as we walk - locals, v Scottish. The cafes closed at the wheel but the sun has come out so time for dinner. Sit on a picnic bench and cook, in full view of the wheel. People come by to sightsee. I phone mum. Feet are soooo sore. And somehow I’m meant to do thirty five (!!) kms tommorrow. The problem is there’s so few places to stop. I will be so clglad to reach open land again. Just a few more days. My gas is running out. At least I have another. I am not sure what I shall do for the next though.

After dinner I fill up water then go to find a place to camp. Their are woods behind the wheel so I go exploring, they are large and cut with trails. Eventually I settle somewhere and put up my tent, though the sounds are noisy and I am not much more comfortable with this than I was with last night. Only one more night till a proper campsite.

Day 12 Falkirk wheel to Caddar. On Forth and Clyde Canal

Final canal day. And ought to be a horrendously long one. My jumper smells much more than it did before I washed it (never dried propery). I worry that I’m losing my sense of bad smell, as I wear my clothes for a third time. I feel icky, and really don’t want to but boots on damp socks. Back at the wheel, it’s before nine and the visitor centre is t open. But a man with a spanner sees me, and says he can let me in another block. I do a quick sock wash as I use the toilets. Sit on the other bank and watch a lock being opened to let a small flat boat through.

Day 12 and into the second quarter of the walk and now longer than I’ve ever walked before - pleased. The rose hips by the canal path (now the Forth and Clyde canal) vary in colour from pale yellow, to bright orange, to a deep red near black.

I see three (theee! ) cats along the path - the first two scampering away I mange to get up to the third- and she’s a mad one - never seen a cat do a forward role before! But she’s jumping and rolling all over to get scratches. And she launches here face at my hand any time I go to stroke. And pretty too.

And refuses to get off the ground when a cyclist comes.

I stop for late breakfast (cold porridge and coffee no point wasting gas) at 10:30. The slow canal maintenance boat I saw leaving Falkirk catches up though I leave it behind again. And then the young guy in the boat calls ‘excuse me - you wanting a lift?’ What an amazing offer- to drift along the canal at the slow pace. I don’t know how to make the decision, say I ought to walk it or it would be cheating! We chat a little as I walk along the bank. Then I walk on ahead at my slightly faster pace. Wandering if I’m being stupid to turn down such a great experience. Then (having found somewhere to go) I realise - yes! It would be stupid to miss such an experience. So at a lock a bit later I stop. The two guys who have been opening the locks for him (cycling) come up. See them putting out some of the treasure stones I saw back at the Tunnel. I stand by a post waiting - watching two cats playing on the opposite bank - a day of cats! How excellent- only seen two black cats from a distance the whole time till today. One of the lock guys (Doug) gives me a treasure stone! To put somewhere when I get to Auchinstarry.

And up comes the boat - ‘you still want a lift?’ ‘does the offer still stand?’ It is such a wonderful journey on the water, I get a go steering, Joe often has to stop to remove the weeds from the engine. I was worried it would be awkward an hour or so with someone but we chat all the way - I can’t express how great this was - THIS is why I hike alone!. To get a boat ride saving 7km on the most beautiful of canals- and his life really is THE life - drifting down a canal at less than walking pace r, work finished by 2pm - living the dream. It’s a boat made of recycled plastics used for litter picking with volunteers. And when we get to Auchinstarry marina, after chatting with some brilliant Canal people, he opens up the canal boat house for me- showers! I hadn’t expected a shower for quite some time, so so thankful. Purified (and clothes washed) a get a cup of tea (thee sugars - I don’t like tea sugary but it’s easy calories) and crisps at The Boat House (very tempered by gluten free garlic bread but told myself I need to save my spending).

Saw someone walking their cat(!) in a harness- cat didn’t want to go the same way but seemed content otherwisw

Walking on at three, feeling refreshed and much happier - though a bag of crisps i is not enough to walk on. Wish i could go and say to Joe the boatman yet again how amazing his kindnes was- and wish him good luck with the promotion he interviewed for. And thank goddess I didn’t give in to my stupid cowsrdess! Life is for the brave (and those willing to accept help!) thank you trail for another lesson.

Up river I see the weed cutter in use Joe had told me about.

Rain comes in, then leaves off again. I have been tired all day but feel it - sore eyes sore head. I understand now how people can fall asleep on their feet. Rain on and offf. I reach Kirkintilloch and decide to stop for dinner - on a ‘35km day’ I obviously shouldn’t be doing that but I’m pretty sure I’ll find a camp spot by Caddar, where the Scotnatrail leaves the canal- making tommorrow 28km which should be okay. I love the way everyone here says ‘no bother’ - should adopt

Joe the boatman - like so many other people- kept saying, just you wait till your up on the west coast - when you leave you’ll be dreaming to be back there. Thesuspense of This build up that scotnatrail gives is wonderful…. Just I have to get through all This first!

Walking on at ten to seven. Rain slightly less than it was out the window at dinner. My headache that I’ve had all day however has never lessoned- I do feel like I’m coming down with something, some sniffles this morning, the hint of a sore throat, but it has to be nothing. Just want to lie down for a long time in a proper bed. Oh well not long till Callander.

It actually comes out blue skies again - no one would have expected that from the thick grey clouds half an hour ago! As I walk west, the sun before me blinds twice: once low in the sky, and once in burning reflection off the wet tarmac

The evening walk really is wonderful - same same Canal path. The flicker of yellow light reflecting in the canal from an old narrow boat.

I take a long time to find a camp spot - after seeing the iron coffin at Caddar church that the fascinating old boat gentleman (who got married at cape wrath) at Auchinstarry marina mentioned - related to a tale of the two grave robber/ murderers. The church is a bit freaky though in low light and with people nearby at the carpark, and I don’t feel comfortable here like I did at the cemetery back in Maxton.

Loop all the way behind woods to a poor lumpy grassy spot between fence and wood. After nine by the time I’m set up. Thinking again how very thankful I am to Joe the boatman, for the chance of a shower. My right foot is suffering from two huge blisters- one at the base of my big two, one on the little. My feet have held up remarkably well - in comparison to the mess they were on the South Downs, so that’s a tick for wearing boots. I experimented with a compede today but think it wasn’t worth it - blister skin doesn’t get to thicken, so will probably just come back after. But the worst think is the plastic sticks to the inside of my socks and takes forever to come out again.