I've heard many walkers say they find long forest trails monotonous - particularly if it's a managed plantation of ubiquitous pine. I can sympathise with this viewpoint as it's not terribly exciting to trek for miles along Forestry Commission roads. In my opinion, woodland walking is best accompanied by other points of interest, be they historical or geographical. A good example is the Devilla plantation in West Fife where many hidden treasures lurk within the trees and I have already documented my wanderings there. Last weekend I planned a circular tour of Blairadam Forest, near Kelty. Nicole was attending a workshop at RSPB Loch Leven (Vane Farm in old money) and I drove the few miles back to the small village of Keltybridge to begin my excursion.
The crossing of the Kelty Burn marks the boundary between the historic counties of Fife and Kinross-shire. The latter is now administered by the modern council area of Perth & Kinross but the old county retains a strong identity. A historic road sign stands adjacent to the bridge - perhaps left for posterity. I took a farm track towards the forest, actually the small part of the Fife Pilgrim Way lying marginally outside the Kingdom. Under the M90 and into the woods, I walked up to the remains of an old mineral railway bridge. The "Beast of Blairadam" is carved into the brickwork and there is an impressive totem pole nearby, apparently fashioned by a group of first-nation Canadians on a visit to Scotland. I'd been at this point a couple of years back. On that day I followed the railway trackbed from the edge of Kelty to the point where it was severed by the motorway. I picked up the Mine Trail in the forest and found the spot where a 100-foot viaduct once crossed the burn. A toppled chunk of pier is the only evidence remaining. I remember this wander for two reasons. It became dark while I was exploring and I used Google Maps on my newly-acquired smartphone to restore my bearings and guide me back to the car park. That same evening I watched an online broadcast of a remembrance service for rock musician Lemmy Kilmister, who fronted Motorhead for 40 years until his death. A great British band who never deviated from the constant schedule of touring and recording. I raised my glass to him.
Aside from myriad pit lines, Kelty once had a railway station on the Edinburgh to Perth route via Kinross. Yet looking at today's landscape, you have to keep your eyes peeled to spot clues to this former hive of train activity. Passenger services in Kelty ceased as far back as 1930 which appears rather baffling upon first hearing. A slew of station closures did take place in that year but they were mainly minor halts that probably never did any meaningful business. Kelty was a prosperous mining community of thousands and we are talking about a time before car ownership was commonplace. Why did the station bite the dust? The answer lies in the local tram network. Fares to larger settlements such as Cowdenbeath and Dunfermline were cheaper under the wires and services far more frequent. Enough traffic was siphoned off to persuade the railway company to remove Kelty from the national network. Of course, tram systems all over the country were eventually rendered obsolete by buses - although light rail travel has been reintroduced to a handful of major cities. The case of Kelty does underline that railway closures did not begin with infamous axeman Richard Beeching in the 1960s. However, it was rare for a full line to be chopped in the pre-war days.
Back to today's walk, I followed a path paralleling the course of the old railway and once again walked out to the point where the line straddled the gorge. It appears the 100-foot label may have been a tad exaggerated but the bridge must nonetheless have been an impressive sight. The remains of mine workings lurk in the undergrowth in this part of the forest but industrial exploration wasn't the priority today, but rather to complete a circular walk with a small hill climb in the middle. I traversed the burn again but the county boundary actually lay along a small tributary a short walk away. Blairadam has a maze of paths and tracks within its confines and it certainly helps to keep a map handy if you are planning to delve deep into the woodland. I was steadily gaining height and as I followed a road through a particularly dense patch, the sunlight formed an illuminated column ahead of me and presented a wonderful photo opportunity. One for my Instagram feed. I was initially rather sceptical about joining this worldwide picture sharing platform, my reasoning being what does it offer that Facebook doesn't already have? I can only share images? No links or text updates? I decided to give it a whirl but my initial response was lukewarm - until I discovered the power of the hashtag.
For those still in the dark, an Instagram hashtag - for example #walkingtrails - is a means of attaching a reference to a picture that will group it together with other images bearing the same tag. The software detects your interests and your news feed will sometimes feature photos bearing a hashtag matched to your perceived preferences. Therefore adding relevant hashtags to your posts is a method of attracting new followers, who of course may then browse your other pictures and like some of them too. You can also actively follow a hashtag (as well as other Instagram users). When you insert a tag for the first time, Instagram shows you how many instances currently exist. By way of example, #walking has been used 19 million times whereas #walkingscotland has a count of 16000. Selective hashtagging effectively connects you with people who label their posts in a similar way. I have developed a routine of putting one picture per day on Instagram (either recently taken or from my archives) and - at the time of writing - my last ten images have all broken the 100-likes barrier. I'll soon be classed as an influencer! Move over Kim Kardashian!
The sun was shining and the sky was blue. A beautiful morning for a late-autumn walk. I was heading to the far corner of the forest where much tree felling had taken place and I was now out in the open. The map had shown two summits with a height difference of just 5 metres but no paths were marked. I therefore decided to scale whichever peak looked most accessible. The higher of the two - Cowden Hill - had plain grassy slopes and it was a simple case of hopping over a metal gate and making the short hike to the top. As soon as I emerged over the ridge, a beautiful view opened out. I was looking down upon Loch Leven, flanked by Benarty and Bishop Hills. There was nobody else around and I've always enjoyed the sensation of observing activity from a point of isolation. There wasn't anywhere to sit down so I strolled around taking a few photographs. I had made the correct decision to climb Cowden Hill as the neighbouring peak was covered in young trees and didn't appear to offer any significant views. Rather than retrace my steps, I took a straight path eastwards after descending Cowden Hill and this would lead me back to another tunnel under the M90. I followed the gradually sloping track through woodland then took a public right of way through pastureland - styles and gates helpfully provided. A woman passed on horseback and stopped for a quick chat. I caught glimpses of Blairadam House which has parts dating from the 1730s. Coal was mined on the estate for many years until the closure of the Blairenbathie drift mine in 1962. The Forestry Commission have owned most of the land since 1925 and it's difficult to imagine nowadays that this sprawling area of peaceful woodland was once alive with the clatter of industrial activity.
As I left the estate, I spotted what looked like a large walled garden although there didn't seem to be any way in. Blairadam House is still owned by the Adam family and has guest bedrooms available to rent. No railways remain in the vicinity of Kelty. The main route to Perth was scandalously closed in 1970 and part of the trackbed through Glen Farg was wiped out by the construction of the M90. There have been half-hearted calls to restore this line but it would be a massively expensive project and something of a pipe dream. I wandered through the tiny villages of Maryburgh and Keltybridge before collecting my car and driving up to Kinross. I got myself a cold drink and sat in the car for half an hour listening to Planet Rock radio station. I'm always tuned into PR when driving and it plays a wide selection from the last 50 years. Then it was back to the nature reserve for a wee browse around the shop and to collect Nicole.
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