We’re back from another very nice, if somewhat wearying hike. This time, we walked “over the hill” from Pitlochry to Strathtay. The hike was nice, though
today, the boots weren’t as magic, and Botticelli, while still engaging wasn’t as thoroughly distracting as it was the day before. Therefore, we had a somewhat more recalcitrant hiker than a couple of days ago. Still, all things considered, I’m pleased with her capability and willingness.
The hike itself was quite nice. We went through the southern part of town, under the tracks, over the river Tummel, across the highway and started climbing first past a farm and then
into the woods. There were places where the trail was quite muddy from the recent rains. There was a section that was lush with moss and almost glowing green from the ground, though the trees were still rather bare. We came along a stone circle(named Clachan an Diridh), a logging road where we were passed by a huge logging truck heading back into the woods for more timber removal, and then over a large stile and back into fields for the trek down into Strathtay.
On the way down into Strathtay, the trail passed a sheep carcass in a way that could simply not be avoided. So, we talked to Sam about it. She was enthralled and full of questions. “Why didn’t it know not to come up here?” “Did you look inside that one?”
“Why are the bones still sticking out?” She said that tomorrow she would write a story about the dead things we encountered in our walking so that we wouldn’t forget!
Further down, we crossed a rushing, burbling tributary to the river Tay, passed through some more mud, some more grassy trail with trees arched overhead and then turned the corner into a golf course! Seems like one can hardly hike ’round here without coming across one.
Finally, down into Strathtay itself – the site of a chocolatier of some note, and the site of a recent tragedy – drowning of Simon Fletcher.
Two of the 3 restaurants were not serving when we got there. Fortunately the third was. Sam pecked at her food, spilt her milk and generally flopped around the table. Carolyn had more “excellent” soup, and I quite enjoyed my “Brie and Bacon”
We had been told that we could take the bus back from there, and given Sam’s state, we were more than a little inclined to. We came up with a different plan though – she’d ride in the Ergo up the hill, and would walk on the flat and down parts. This mostly worked, except that on the way over, she developed a distaste for slugs because she didn’t want to step on them, and there were black slugs all over the route mainly on the flatter part at the top of the hill. Nonetheless, some chocolate, some Botticelli and many renditions of “Señor Don Gato” got the plan through. Needless to say, having carried a 30+-pound kid up nearly 2 miles of “hill” has nearly tuckered me out.
We had a nice (but cher) dinner at the Indian restaurant. They’d not even heard of Edradour – the distillery less than 2 miles away, so I had a wee dram of “Highland Park” which was quite nice as well.