Day 90: The Summit

Today was the last day of my 90 day challenge, so I felt that just a little walk around the block wasn't good enough to celebrate the final stride.  So, Pin and I set off for a walk near Callander, which appeared to have everything I wanted:  a new walk, one I'd never taken before; woods and streams as well as hills and views; varied countryside; greenery; and most of all is within my beloved Scotland!

We had all of this and more.  The walk is called Callander Crag, and winds its way up hill...and up hill, and up hill, and up hill....before it rises to a summit and then goes down dale as well.  I loved every minute of it, even the ones where I was struggling to climb the stone steps to the final summit, or the bit at the end where we stopped at a bench and I didn't want to get up again.  I know I live in Scotland, but I've rarely seen woods so green.  Everything was green, and so many different varieties of it!  Spring green, mossy green, pine green, watercress green, emerald green, and hundreds of other versions I never had imagined before.  Every tree was covered with moss, or little tiny ferns. 

It had rained all morning, so a local told us, and yet we managed to arrive when the rain was off and yet there were still water droplets hanging off every (mossy green) branch.  Every once in a while the sun would break out and shine through the trees, lighting up the covered green and also the burnished copper colour of the fallen leaves.  We passed only two people, and the rest of the two hour walk we had all to ourselves.  It was so quiet, and yet filled with the sounds that only the woods can make.  We saw deer, and a little frog (Pin saw several frogs), and a tree that looked either like an elephant or an octopus, a hawk, and countless other birds that we could hear even if we couldn't see them. 

We climbed all the way up to the Queen's Jubilee Summit, and stood proudly looking out over the vista of Callander, and then beyond to Stirling and, supposably, the Wallace Monument (although with the mist and the clouds we weren't really sure what direction we should be looking in order to find it).  Off to our right we could see Loch Venacher, and Ben Ledi and Ben Lomond.  Well, perhaps we couldn't quite see that far, but we like to think we could. 

It was definitely a proud moment for me.  After being diagnosed with chronic fatigue/M.E. about seven years ago, my ability to exercise as I used to has seen a significant change.  But if I've learned anything it's that it is not about competing with what others can do, or (what is much more likely for me) to compete with myself, the self that I used to be, the running I used to do, the energy I used to have.  I've learned that there is great accomplishment in achieving something that seems small, but changes my whole perspective on what I can and can't do in my life.  It's not about setting my mind to anything and achieving it; I'm not so foolish as that.  Rather, it's about setting goals and challenges that are just that slight bit harder, that bit extra beyond what I'm currently doing, and just pressing on and pressing on and taking joy in the journey, not just at the summit at the top. 

We did some celebrating at the top, taking photos, and me sounding my barbaric 'YAWP!' over the rooftops of the world.  (See 'Dead Poet's Society', and the writings of Walt Whitman.)  Pin hugged the jubilee cairn in her joy.  "O frabjous day! Calloo!  Callay! She chortled in her joy."  (roughly stolen from The Jabberwocky poem) 

Then it was a winding, slippery slope all the way down, in some ways more difficult than the way up.  Pin and I both nearly fell two or three times, which gave Pin great glee, at least.   By the time we reached the last little uphill slope towards the car park, I felt like I couldn't go another step - but that's the beauty of what I've learned in 90 days. You can always make it to the final step, whatever that is.

We celebrated with steak pie and chips at the Tudor for dinner, and now it's once again home for jammies and hot tea and the comfort of knowing that we didn't let the day - or the weather - prevent us.  We walked on.

Walk on!

Walk length:  2 hours