The pass of the flagstones

A couple of weeks ago, I spent a week around the Nevis watershed. Before revisiting the Tranter Round, I went into the Lairig Leacach by bike, to dig around some routes - some I'd done before, some I hadn't. The track was padlocked by Rio Tinto Alcan at the top of the woods, something I've reported to the appropriate access officer since. The Lairig Leacach is a historic drover's road - in English it means the pass of the flagstones - and a padlocked gate meant dismantling a loaded bike. Sadly we're seeing access infringements like this becoming more and more commonplace north of the border. What with the Loch Lomond bylaws and that sorry arsed news from the Lakes regarding a trial license for outdoor activities, I can't help thinking we're only as strong as our weakest link, which in our current state of Union is England. Time to buck your ideas up, compadres - the celts have had our back and been on point for long enough. Please return the favour by kicking back in your own backyard, before the landowning nobs in the Lords swap any more funny ideas over their earl grey and caviar.

But I digress, kinda. It was a great little preamble to the main event (the Tranter), and a magical place to spend a couple of nights, to catch up on some sleep and some work, with a day tramping some ground that needed covering for this n' that of a why. The two Innses loom over everything in this part of the world. Despite being just Corbetts they really are larger than life, and seemed to follow me around the glen, wherever I was. It was great to see them again, for the third time now.

The down back to town is more fun than the up - 5km only broken by the same gate at the top of the pass and another (without padlock) on the north side of the woods. It's what counts for exciting in my world... at least at 7am.

Some photos, then.