[Post-walk shennanigans]
I started the car, reversed out and headed home, my mind relaxing into auto-pilot mode. I passed a few walkers. We waved and shared smiles. In a film this would have been accompanied with relaxing music, soft focus and children playing in slow-motion – followed by a clang of cymbals and discordant notes. Reality slapped me awake. The gate was closed. And padlocked. Fuck!
Admittedly there had been a sign “Closed due to Coronavirus”. But there are similar signs at the Hills and those walks are clearly open. What’s more, a car had driven in immediately ahead of me and there were other cars in the car park when I arrived. I assumed that Forestry Commission had better things to do than take the signs down.
There was no way to drive around the gate. I reversed until I could turn round then drove to the north end of the Raider’s Road. A long eight miles to another padlocked gate. Fuck! (again). I had mobile reception so called the Forestry Commission. A recorded message told me the office was closed until Monday. Some folk who had parked on the free side of gate told me that the visitor centre at Clatteringshaws was open and suggested they might be able to help.
Plan B: I got Christy out of the car and we set off for the visitor’s centre, a walk turning into a jog. But then I had another thought. On my walk in 2011 I had crossed Black Water of Dee on Stroan Viaduct on the way out and at Barney water on the way back. I clearly remembered standing in the rain near there, and reading a sign explaining that this area has three times the average UK rainfall. What I didn’t remember was if I had crossed on a foot or vehicle bridge.
Plan C. Drive there and take a look.
I had reset the car’s mileage counter as I drove past the place where I had joined the road back then. It was six miles back. It looked usable. I ignored the “No unauthorised entry” sign.
Relief. A vehicle bridge. There was a gate beyond it but it was rusted and open. I hoped to find a track to the Queen’s Way and drive back past Clatteringshaws. I just hoped those entrances weren’t closed off. I had OS maps with me but this area is across two maps and there is no overlap. This made map reading difficult. I misread the map. I thought I was on a track a mile north of where I actually was. So as I drove I would come to junctions that were not those I expected. I decided to get an OS grid-reference to confirm where I was. FFS, it would only give me latitude and longitude and my brain couldn’t to cope with that. (I’d switched its mode when on holiday but couldn’t see how switch it back – I’ve since fixed the it). The car’s GPS just showed me in a roadless terra incognita but at least I could see my direction of travel without having to stop to use a compass.
But I couldn’t find a track to take me north. It was as if I was cursed to only move between south and west.
Eventually I came to an unexpected T-junction. and what’s more, a sign. Left was ‘Footpath to Mossdale’, which I presumed led to the railway I had walked along. Would the car get past the rocks at this end? It didn’t matter. It would almost certainly be gated at the Mossdale end and I couldn’t remember if the gate near Loch Skerrow was locked (I had gone through the pedestrians’ half gate). I turned right. If this had been the T-junction I thought most likely I would have been driving NW after the turn but somehow I was still heading SW. I decided to give up on escaping to the north. If I kept heading SW I might be able to find an exit down there.
A little further. Sudden recognition. I knew this track. But unfortunately I couldn’t place where it was. Then another junction. And a sign, “Loch Grannoch Lodge 2 miles”. I’ve been there. Somewhere near Loch Fleet I thought, but I couldn’t find it on the map. But I felt Loch Grannoch Lodge was not the way to go. I chose the other way.
Then, my oh my, in the distance was something I definitely knew, the Big Water of Fleet Viaduct. Now I knew where I was. There was at least one gate between me and the public road. I remembered walking past it on previous walks. Would it be locked?
No! It was open.
Joy! I drove past the ruin of Little Cullendoch and passed a car parked by the viaduct. Once past it I was on a single track. Still not definitely free but oh, so close. But as my wheels touched the B796 i breathed a sigh of relief. Free at last. I had escaped the trap.
I had driven eight or more miles of forestry tracks with my mind racing. Not only trying to work out where I was but considering what to do if I was truly locked in? Ring Lynn and hope she could find someone to pick me up? Could I can get to somewhere she could describe to someone else? And strangely more worrying was the fuel situation. I had set off with a third of a tank of petrol. It was plenty to get me to Stroan Loch and back. But all these extra miles? Would I find myself out of fuel in the middle of nowhere? An unwarranted worry really. I had plenty of miles in the tank but in the heat of the moment it was a worry nonetheless.
What can I learn from this? Well. Don’t panic is easy to say but once I found the tracks didn’t fit with what I expected, I should have stopped, eaten an apple, or anything that took a little time, then placed the maps so I could see the area in one visual field rather than looking at one map and then the other. Having the OS maps was a godsend. I’d have been screwed without them. I’ll look out for gates in future and I won’t park beyond lockable gates. And I’ll check that apps I might need work properly before setting out. And its worth repeating, don’t panic.
Quite a day.
