I had a 40-mile railway trek in Aberdeenshire looming and needed to prepare by getting a few miles under my belt. Working on the theory that similar underfoot conditions would provide the most authentic warm-up, I buried my head in the maps and the came up with a solution. The old branch railway out to Aberfoyle from Buchlyvie was five and a half miles long and now served as a walking and cycling route. Walking the entire line each way would approximate a daily stage of the Formartine & Buchan Way, which I would soon tackle.
Aberfoyle lies on the western fringe of Perthshire close to the boundary fault that geographically separates the Highlands from the Lowlands. The town also sits on the banks of the River Forth which flows towards Stirling. Many tourists come on day trips to Aberfoyle due to the proximity of the Trossachs National Park and the walking and climbing opportunities offered. Nicole and I know the area well through visits to Flanders Moss Nature Reserve and the Queen Elizabeth Forest Park, both excellent locations for spotting a variety of flora and fauna. I drove the 40-mile journey early on a beautiful Sunday morning and was ready to hit the railway trail at 9am sharp. An old semaphore signal post indicated the starting point and I made rapid progress along the smooth tarmac surface and the Forth was never far away. The railway connection to Aberfoyle opened in 1882 and the terminus was right in the town centre, where the main car-park is situated today. The line split off the Stirling to Balloch route which had been up and running since 1856. Passenger traffic to Aberfoyle ceased in 1951 and complete closure came in 1959. The Stirling to Balloch section clung on as a goods line until the mid-60s until it too was dismantled. The information panel at the beginning of the railway path informed me that slate quarrying was an important industry in the Aberfoyle area and this was a major reason for bringing the iron road here. Tramways transported the minerals down from the surrounding hills for onward distribution upon the national rail network. The path proceeded towards the site of Gartmore Station, which lay over a mile from the village it served. Perhaps one of the reasons why the railway ultimately couldn't compete with road traffic in this area. Trains to Aberfoyle were down to three per day towards the end and it becomes a catch-22 situation. Services won't be increased if the the perceived demand isn't there. But nobody is going to be attracted towards a mode of transport where only limited provision is offered. I passed by the old station cottage - now a private residence - and headed into the wilderness of Flanders Moss. A small nature reserve of this name lies a few miles distant. A circular wooden walkway takes you around a raised peat bog, one of the last remaining intact examples of this habitat in Britain. The surface is a mosaic of sphagnum and other specialist plants that have adapted over thousands of years to a waterlogged landscape. This corner of the moss is under active conservation but the original bog was spread over a much larger area. Agricultural draining and artificial tree planting has caused widespread damage to the ancient habitat but it remained a challenging terrain to lay rail tracks across back in the day. I believe the technique was to build the line upon a bed of flexible material, which explains why I always felt I was always slightly above the general lie of the land and was no doubt following the true line of the trackbed. Between Aberfoyle and Gartmore the path had sometimes deviated slightly from the actual railway, particularly when the rails sat in a shallow cutting. These hollows quickly become sodden when drains are no longer maintained and running a new footpath at a higher level alongside would have proved the more practical solution.
A sound rang out across the open expanse. Cuckoo! Cuckoo! I had heard reports of recent sightings in this very area but - despite scanning the horizon intently - couldn't ascertain where the call originated from. It was as clear as a bell and my phone was able to record it without difficulty. But no sign of the actual bird. I've never seen a cuckoo in the flesh and this was the first time I'd encountered aural evidence for such a prolonged spell. I find the photos of cuckoo chicks amazing. They can easily grow to two or three times the size of the "adoptive" parents who are feeding them. You would think they'd notice the hulking brute taking up all the space in the nest! By now I was in Stirlingshire, having crossed the boundary marked by the Kelty Water. The sun was beating down on the exposed terrain and I was glad I'd set out in loose fitting shorts and had packed my wide-brimmed hat. Remember, I also had to walk the same route back. The path was much stonier here than in vicinity of Aberfoyle and it seems the smooth tarmac finishes are often only applied on these old railway routes within municipal dog-walking and pram-pushing boundaries. I did pass other people occasionally but to all intents and purposes I was out here on my own - which was totally fine by me! Eventually I approached the site of Buchlyvie Station which turned out to be around a mile from the village centre. Did nobody think of bringing the trains closer to civilisation when the railway was originally planned? No doubt it was a consideration but routing the rails around the fringes would almost certainly have been the cheaper option and the one that entailed fewer legal challenges. The motor bus hadn't appeared on the horizon yet and the travelling public would just have had to put up with the inconvenience. I reached the main street and had a wander around. I'm sure Nicole and I had stopped for a coffee here many years ago. Buchlyvie is on the main road from Stirling to Balloch and the A811 offers a useful connection to Loch Lomond and also Dumbarton. My mum also tells stories about visiting relatives around these parts in the dim and distant past. The Stirling to Balloch railway actually lost its status as an end-to-end passenger route in 1934. Buchlyvie Station was kept open to cater for local branch running to Aberfoyle. Having rested for a while on a bench, I turned tail and prepared to traverse Flanders Moss once again.
Now that I was re-treading familiar ground, I relaxed my no-headphones rule and tuned into a couple of radio shows I'd downloaded. I make a list each weekend of the broadcasts that look interesting and catch up with them whenever and wherever possible. I'm also working my way through old editions of a few podcasts. Interesting how radio has positively thrived since the dawn of the internet. No longer tethered to the range of a traditional transmitter mast, you can listen anywhere in the world. By the same token, shows on, say, Radio Scotland now attract an audience spread across the globe, never mind the UK. The Out of Doors show regularly features emails from North America and Australia. I caught sight of a Highland Cow in a lineside field and - rather unusually - it was black, although some of the ginger colouring seems to be shining through in the photograph. Very difficult to completely genetically rewire such a Scottish icon. Yes, the humble Heilan' Coo has a dedicated international fanbase. I had to settle for a side-on shot as the beast simply wasn't for turning! My legs were complaining as I arrived back in Aberfoyle but I had successfully completed the training exercise on a sweltering day. I raided the Co-op on the High Street for sandwiches and refreshments and slowly regained some strength. Then I was homeward bound for a seat in the back garden and a barbecue later on.
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