by
Mike McLean
As I braced myself against the biting cold wind of a January afternoon I wondered what on earth I was doing.
The view-point car park at the “Rest and be Thankful” mountain pass was bleak and rain was in the air. At nearly 3,000 feet, Ben Donich and “The Cobbler” are not the highest mountains in the world but being further north than Moscow and on the west coast of Scotland at this time of year it’s a pretty safe bet that the wind will take the lazy route, i.e. through rather than around a person.
Rest and Be Thankful
I had agreed to do a quick road trip around the Cowal peninsula
and write a short report for the Clan Maclean magazine and I was
beginning to have my doubts if it was a good idea. Not being a
historian I wasn’t sure if the Cowal could be considered Maclean
country or not. However, I was spurred on by the patron of the
“Rest And Be Thankful Catering Corporation” as I waited for
my hot roll and cup of tea.
Standing by the caravan swaying in the wind I explained my mission and he replied “Will you be visiting Sir Charles Maclean at Strachur then?” This immediate reaction from a complete stranger convinced me that I was on the right track. To put this in perspective, on this day trip at no point were we more than 20 miles in a straight line from home; however the round trip was more than 150 miles, much of it on single track roads.
The Clyde estuary and sea lochs are home to some of the most convoluted land routes in Europe and it’s easy to sea why water transport was more efficient until the last 50 years.
So, off we set, down the A83 & A815 onto the peninsula. We passed the Creggans Inn and continued to follow the coast of Loch Fyne until the road lifted us away from the shore and up into Glenadaruel, a forested mountain pass. The sun and clouds fought a fierce battle with each other, producing brilliant rainbows leaping from hill top to hill top. The colours of the land ranged from the bottle green of the pine forest to the sandy
yellow of the still dormant bracken. The mottled shades of the cattle, knee deep in mud blended against the hillside and the yellow legged buzzards swooped in the strong breeze.
We turned off the road and climbed the forest track to the top of Cruach Mhor and discovered a 40 generator wind farm at the top. Impressive in its size, the sight is well hidden from the local roads thus reducing controversy in the glen. The large pine trees laying over and exposing their root systems lay claim to the fact that the sight won’t run short of its fuel.
The views coming down the hill were spectacular, overlooking the glen and leading us to the hamlet of Kilmodan. Here, in the graveyard of the church, built in 1783, are a number of impressive monuments. Here we encountered the first McLean of the day, Margaret Ellen (Peggy to her friends), who died in 1921 aged 25, the youngest of the five family members listed on the stone.
Also in the graveyard is a small building protecting a number of carved stones. These grave slabs were produced in the 14th & 15th centuries by a school of carvers centred in the Loch Awe region. Among the patterns on the stones are ancient Celtic patterns and even one of a unicorn fighting another mythical creature that we were unable to identify.
We continued south sticking to the western-most “finger” with stunning views over the Kyles of Bute as we climbed over the hill and dropped down to Tighnabruaich. We stuck to the coast all the way down to Ardlamont Point, being rewarded with panoramas of the Clyde and the snow streaked bulk of the Isle of Arran spearing skywards out of the cold water. The road then took us back northwards where we stopped at the Kilfinan Hotel (log on at http://www.kilfinan.com/).
The Kyles Of Bute Glenadaruel
Here we were warmly welcomed by the patrons and given a tour of the place. All I need to say is that it won’t be the last time that we go there, my only regret was that we weren’t there for the previous night’s revelry.
Following an excellent coffee we continued north, pausing to have a drink at the spring drinking fountain, made in memory of Patrick Rankin back in 1880. As time was beginning to run short we decided not to drive over the C11, Britain’s highest classified road, saving that as an excuse for the next trip. The single track coast road, with its twists, humps and swoops, gave the suspension a really good workout and I had to curb my enthusiasm to stop myself getting in the bad books of my long suffering wife as she held on for dear life.
Eventually we regained roads that were actually wider than the car and we set course for home at Kilcreggan on our own little peninsula just a few miles away as the hooded crow flies. The final treat of the day as we pulled up at the house an hour later was the spectacular sunset over the Cowal. The Clyde estuary may not sound too romantic, but it sure looks it when you get on the right side of the water. Come and see us some time.
The view-point car park at the “Rest and be Thankful” mountain pass was bleak and rain was in the air. At nearly 3,000 feet, Ben Donich and “The Cobbler” are not the highest mountains in the world but being further north than Moscow and on the west coast of Scotland at this time of year it’s a pretty safe bet that the wind will take the lazy route, i.e. through rather than around a person.
Rest and Be Thankful
Standing by the caravan swaying in the wind I explained my mission and he replied “Will you be visiting Sir Charles Maclean at Strachur then?” This immediate reaction from a complete stranger convinced me that I was on the right track. To put this in perspective, on this day trip at no point were we more than 20 miles in a straight line from home; however the round trip was more than 150 miles, much of it on single track roads.
The Clyde estuary and sea lochs are home to some of the most convoluted land routes in Europe and it’s easy to sea why water transport was more efficient until the last 50 years.
So, off we set, down the A83 & A815 onto the peninsula. We passed the Creggans Inn and continued to follow the coast of Loch Fyne until the road lifted us away from the shore and up into Glenadaruel, a forested mountain pass. The sun and clouds fought a fierce battle with each other, producing brilliant rainbows leaping from hill top to hill top. The colours of the land ranged from the bottle green of the pine forest to the sandy
yellow of the still dormant bracken. The mottled shades of the cattle, knee deep in mud blended against the hillside and the yellow legged buzzards swooped in the strong breeze.
We turned off the road and climbed the forest track to the top of Cruach Mhor and discovered a 40 generator wind farm at the top. Impressive in its size, the sight is well hidden from the local roads thus reducing controversy in the glen. The large pine trees laying over and exposing their root systems lay claim to the fact that the sight won’t run short of its fuel.
The views coming down the hill were spectacular, overlooking the glen and leading us to the hamlet of Kilmodan. Here, in the graveyard of the church, built in 1783, are a number of impressive monuments. Here we encountered the first McLean of the day, Margaret Ellen (Peggy to her friends), who died in 1921 aged 25, the youngest of the five family members listed on the stone.
Also in the graveyard is a small building protecting a number of carved stones. These grave slabs were produced in the 14th & 15th centuries by a school of carvers centred in the Loch Awe region. Among the patterns on the stones are ancient Celtic patterns and even one of a unicorn fighting another mythical creature that we were unable to identify.
We continued south sticking to the western-most “finger” with stunning views over the Kyles of Bute as we climbed over the hill and dropped down to Tighnabruaich. We stuck to the coast all the way down to Ardlamont Point, being rewarded with panoramas of the Clyde and the snow streaked bulk of the Isle of Arran spearing skywards out of the cold water. The road then took us back northwards where we stopped at the Kilfinan Hotel (log on at http://www.kilfinan.com/).
The Kyles Of Bute Glenadaruel
Here we were warmly welcomed by the patrons and given a tour of the place. All I need to say is that it won’t be the last time that we go there, my only regret was that we weren’t there for the previous night’s revelry.
Following an excellent coffee we continued north, pausing to have a drink at the spring drinking fountain, made in memory of Patrick Rankin back in 1880. As time was beginning to run short we decided not to drive over the C11, Britain’s highest classified road, saving that as an excuse for the next trip. The single track coast road, with its twists, humps and swoops, gave the suspension a really good workout and I had to curb my enthusiasm to stop myself getting in the bad books of my long suffering wife as she held on for dear life.
Eventually we regained roads that were actually wider than the car and we set course for home at Kilcreggan on our own little peninsula just a few miles away as the hooded crow flies. The final treat of the day as we pulled up at the house an hour later was the spectacular sunset over the Cowal. The Clyde estuary may not sound too romantic, but it sure looks it when you get on the right side of the water. Come and see us some time.