Yesterday the weather forecasts predicted one more good day before the clouds and rain returned. Determined not to waste it, we set out towards Glencoe to take in some of the glorious highland views. Neither of us were up for a heavy duty climb but after a  little research Susan found a shorter, lower level walk known as the Devil’s Staircase. When I heard the name, it instantly conjured up memories of treacherous roads and long, punishing walks. I’m from Yorkshire and I’d advise anybody visiting that county to avoid any natural features that have “Devil” in their names! In this case however the demonic title was earned from soldiers losing their lives to exposure. On a bright, sunny day I figured the four of us would OK.

The Devils Staircase very easy to get to – we headed for the Kings House Hotel (PH49 4HY for those with sat nav) then drove on a little further until we reached a layby on the right with a sign indicating the start of the walk. As we got our own little devils out of the car we got talking to a couple who were familar with the area. They told us of a truly magnificent viewing location just off the staircase. Following their directions, we walked up the winding “staircase” until we reached a cairn. Beyond that point, the path descends into Kinlochleven, but if you turn left you can walk to the top of a very minor peak that may or may not be called “Stob Mhic Mhartui”.

A pitstop by the cairn for some treats, just before we went left off the main path

For the most part there is an obvious path to follow and it’s pretty easy going the whole way, so long as you don’t let any excited Beagles take you on a more direct route over marshy, heather covered ground. It may smell great to them, but you will end up with wet feet.

Clouds?

What clouds?

A spot of “leave” training can help to reign in the excitement..

..just so long as the treats are worthwhile!

You don’t have to walk long before you start seeing some really breathtaking views

At the top: the Three Sisters of Glencoe (we think!) in the background

Viewed again, from just beyond the summit

White-topped Ben Nevis in the distance (left hand side)

Hmm.. I think it’s treat-time again!

Now you may recall that on our last mountain walk Biggles was a very noisy boy. Well this time he’d been much calmer and quieter, putting more effort into tying up my legs with his lead in pursuit of the ultimate sniff. I thought we’d made a breakthrough. Until that is we started back down and the wind changed direction. Grunt! Squeal! Aaarf! Arroo! All the way back down!

Nearly back at the car, but there are still raging torrents to cross

The scenery’s nice, but the heather smells fantastic!

By now it was lunchtime. We had a couple of options: drive back to the Kings House Hotel (or further, the Bridge of Orchy Hotel) and hope they’d allow our Beagles inside, or drive forward to the Glencoe Visitor Centre and grab some sandwiches and coffees. We did the latter, and I’m very glad because even if the hotels had let our two doglets in, their behavior would soon have got us barred for life.

Beanie was the worst offender; just as I sat down at our bench outside the cafe to tuck into my nosh, she leapt right up onto the table. Suddenly one end of my tuna mayonnaise baguette was in my mouth, and the other end was in Beanie’s. It was very romantic, a bit like the spaghetti eating scene out of “Lady and The Tramp“, but she can eat a lot faster than me and I was really hungry, so I grabbed her and put her back on the ground. Needless to say I then tore off the rear end of my baguette and shared it between her and Biggles. I love her to bits, but her oral hygene leaves something to be desired and I didn’t want to spend the rest of the day with a sick stomach.

As we were eating I noticed a beautiful little bird land on our table. It was completely fearless – presumably it was used to getting tidbits from visitors. Biggles very nearly had it for lunch. He generally prefers sheep and socks, but there’s always room for a side dish of tweety pie.

Eventually we set off back home, but we stopped the car a couple of times for some more photos. There were lots of beautiful views to be had even from the roadside:

Hoping to take advantage of the sunny weather before the rain returned, we headed for Callander on Saturday to walk up Ben Ledi. Neither of us felt ready for a really hard slog, and Biggles is still a youngster, so we wanted a picturesque, relatively unchallenging walk. According to the brilliant little “Walks with your dog” site, Ben Ledi was just about perfect, and only an hour or so away by car. The weather forecasts all warned of heavy clouds around lunchtime, so we got off to an early start. For me, this meant going really light on sleep; the night before I’d been kept awake by Biggles’ snoring (honestly if they made Breathe Right strips for Beagles I’d be first in the queue). Nevertheless I got us to Callander without sleeping at the wheel or passing out due to Biggles and Beanie’s noxious bottom burps which on this occasion smelled like moldy Turkey stuffing. We reached the little Stank Bridge (good name, that) car park just in time to take the last official place, and a few minutes later we’d fitted our new fleece-lined canicross-style harnesses to Beanie and Biggles and were on our way!

Biggles’ big adventure begins..

Almost as soon as we got on the trail, Biggles became excited, and as I’ve said before, an excited Biggles is invariably a noisy Biggles. According to some sources, Beagles have three vocal styles: barking, baying, and of course howling. Biggles has these three in plentiful supply, but it doesn’t stop there. His repertoire also includes:

• whimpering
• whining
• warbling
• grunting
• squealing
• and, peculiarly, oink-oink noises like a piglet (hence we call him Bigglet)

Let me tell you he was broadcasting the full set as we headed through the trees. I saw some people up ahead of us, and I figured he was just desperate to catch up with them for some reason (maybe they had smelly sandwiches). They were moving slowly, so in due course we did catch them but Biggles didn’t even stop to say hello, he just kept pulling straight past. And he didn’t quieten down one bit. As we headed out of the trees, he was still going at full volume.

Biggles can sniff and bay at the same time

As we emerged from the trees into bright sunlight, Biggles went quiet. “Ah, he’s calming down” I thought. Not so. The surrounding hills were causing his cries to echo, and for a moment, that confused him. He let out another “aarrooo” and the invisible, distant Beagle answered him again.

AARRROOO … Aarrrooo … aarrrooo…

After a few more exchanges, he evidently decided that this other Beagle wasn’t worth listening to, and returned to his normal “song”. Fortunately Beanie felt no need to provide backing vocals so we only had one noisy Beagle, but trust me, one was enough.

Each time we approached a plateau I wondered if we’d finally see what all the commotion was about. Maybe we’d find a sheep there, or perhaps another dog, but no – there was nothing of note, and the Biggles one man dog band kept on playing.

Aaarff! Oink! Grunt! Arr-Arr-Arrroo!

We’re way in front of Beanie and ma boy’s still going full volume!

After a while I pinned my hopes for peace and quiet on the summit. Last year when we’d taken Beanie to Ben Lomond she’d been really excited and desperate to get to the top, but  a little calmer on the way back down. Surely our little boy would be the same? As we got closer to the top, it became apparent that we’d not set off early enough to avoid the heavy clouds. By the time we encountered a little patch of snow, the blue sky had tuned a misty grey and visibility was way down.

Finally we made it to the summit, and as we broke out the sandwiches, treats and drinks, Biggles started to quieten down.

So.. this it? Not even a sheep?

Yeah Biggles, this is it.

It was cold and windy and the view was… well there wasn’t one, so we started back almost straight away. And as soon as we got on the move, the Biggly Boy’s unfinished symphony started up again! As we made our way back down, we ran into quite a few people going in the other direction. The resulting conversations typically went something like this: “Are they Beagles? Aww they look gorgeous! And that must be what we heard on the way up”. One fellow even claimed he could hear Biggles from the car park! And still our noisy little boy kept on being a noisy little boy. Before long the mist started to clear and we finally got to see some of the beautiful views we’d been denied at the summit.

If you look carefully you’ll see a guy in the foreground of the next shot. Look even more carefully (or click the photo then choose “All Sizes”) and you’ll notice he’s actually carrying a bike up the mountain, with the intention of riding it back down. If he’s still alive as I write this, it’ll be a bloody miracle. I didn’t feel too safe on foot with a baying Beagle tied to my belt. How he thought he was going to make it down safely on a bike beats me.

Anyway, back to the scenery..

In due course we made it back to the wooded trail above the car park, and at long last Biggles snapped out of his excited state. Peace was restored! We loaded our pups back in the car, gave them another round of refreshments and headed back home. Biggles fell into a deep sleep on the journey, but he didn’t snore this time, and it was warm enough to wind down the windows to flush out the latest release of Beagle gas, which this time smelled like rotten cabbage.