Scotland's mini-adventures

It’s a warm morning when I arrive at Lanark station, keen to see the Falls and learn more about the SWT’s work. Reserve manager Steve Blow greets me and drives me to the World Heritage Site of New Lanark, the gateway to the Falls. Blow, who manages 14 reserves across Lanarkshire and Dumfries, explains that New Lanark was the brainchild of philanthropist and 19th-century social reformer Robert Owen.

As manager of the village cotton mills, Owen revolutionised British working conditions, ensuring healthy working and living conditions and educational opportunities for workers and their families. Architecturally, New Lanark remains unchanged since Owen left for the United States in 1825. Stepping out of the car, I feel as though I’ve been transported into the pages of a Dickens novel.

Inside one of New Lanark’s buildings lies the SWT’s small but informative Falls of Clyde visitor centre. Here, I am introduced to the reserve’s network of waterfalls, woodlands and animals. The SWT manages 120 wildlife reserves across Scotland. The Falls of Clyde, easily accessible from Glasgow and Edinburgh, remains one of its most popular. It might be a weekday morning and early in the season, but Blow and I bump into plenty of fellow ramblers on our walk, from dog walkers to young families with toddlers on their shoulders.

As we walk along the River Clyde I admire the juxtaposition of industry and nature. The mill may have ceased operation in the 1960s, but the Art Deco Bonnington power station remains a notable feature of the landscape. Built in 1928, it is still in use today, generating power via the waterfalls. Framing the river on both sides is dense woodland, in which native Scottish trees such as hazel, elm and oak grow alongside conifers and beech. These foreign interlopers, Blow explains, were planted in the 19th century to enhance the look of the waterfalls. The SWT is keen to introduce natural stability back to the woodlands and has been gradually felling such trees where appropriate.

In the 18th and 19th centuries, admiring the 90ft Corra Linn was a prerequisite of a grand tour of Scotland. The beauty of the Falls of Clyde sat perfectly with the ideals of Romanticism. Alongside Wordsworth and Turner, Sir Walter Scott and Samuel Taylor Coleridge admired these cascading waters. In 1708, the neighbouring Corehouse and Bonnington Estates enhanced the Corra Linn experience by erecting a Hall of Mirrors, a pavilion that gave the impression that the visitor was in the midst of the waterfall. This illusion was supposed to provide an alternative for female visitors, who, it was feared, might faint at the sight of the "real" waterfall.

One woman who proved this statement false was Lady Mary Ross. Lady Mary, who lived in the Bonnington Estate in the early 19th century, had a canny head for business. Blow tells me it was Lady Mary’s creative vision that rendered the Falls a must-see tourist attraction; she developed paths, viewpoints, buildings, planted trees and tactfully encouraged the myth that William Wallace hid from his enemies in a cliff underneath the waterfall. Many of Lady Mary’s additions, including aesthetic features such as a lion-faced well, can be spotted on the reserve today.

I am engrossed in tales of Corra Linn’s history; my penchant for historical romance has me imagining a fictitious romance between the aristocratic Lady Mary and mill owner Robert Owen. However, while the SWT encourages exploration of the reserve’s history, its chief priority is the preservation of the area’s wildlife. The SWT took over the Falls of Clyde in 1967, under a management agreement with the Corehouse Estate.

Walking along the river, Blow and I spot wildflowers beginning to bloom, butterflies, an imposing Douglas fir tree and hear a woodpecker among the trees. The Falls of Clyde is famed for its nesting wild peregrine falcons. Unfortunately, the SWT believes its resident peregrines have not survived the winter season due to old age, but it is hoping for new prospecting peregrines.

Along the way I get to witness the SWT team in action when we discover an injured bat on the footpath. Seasonal ranger Sarah, who accompanies Blow and I on our walk, spots the animal. Blow intervenes, carefully picking up the bat and restoring it to a safe haven, but not before we have all admired this nocturnal creature. Blow shows the bat to a passing family, whose young son is particularly engrossed. Assistant ranger Susanne Maas gleefully captures the moment on her phone. The group’s passion for wildlife and enthusiasm for their jobs is evident and infectious.

A week later, I note the same sense of enthusiasm in Loch Ardinning’s reserve manager Sven Rasmussen. Rasmussen, who was born in South Africa, tells me he has been working for the SWT for nine years. He looks after eight reserves, stretching all the way from Kintyre to Sutherland.

“It’s a great job. Of course, it’s not always strolling around in the sunshine,” he laughs, gesturing at the cloudless blue skies, “But it’s nice to have a role where I can be outside on a nice day.”

It is gorgeous spring morning in Loch Ardinning, a SWT reserve one mile from Strathblane in Stirlingshire. My first impression of the reserve is undoubtedly aided by the sunshine, but in any weather the beauty of the loch must be remarkable. The reserve provides heartstopping views west to the Arrochar Alps and Loch Lomond, while a glance north rewards you with a panoramic view of the Campsie Fells and a wooded glen.

Ardinning is a loch in a glacially formed hollow, home to woodland and heather moor, wild flowers, otters, deer and birds. The loch was gifted to the trust in the mid 1980s by Dr Robert Kerr. There is no visitor centre here; instead, access is provided by parking laybys and a printable map is available online.

The loch glistens in the morning sunlight as Rasmussen and I begin exploring. There are two routes around the reserve, the first is an all surfaces footpath, suitable for any weather and any degree of mobility. The second takes about an hour and covers more rough terrain. We set off on the short route first, a pleasant 15-minute diversion offering views of the shimmering loch. Rasmussen says that even on this short route he has spotted deer, foxes and otters.

The loch exudes peaceful tranquility. Aside from the distant hum of traffic, we could be miles from civilisation. As we embark on the longer of Loch Ardinning’s two routes, we look north to the Campsie Fells.

The views at Loch Ardinning are breathtaking: typically Scottish scenes of hills, mountains and heather. Prior to the advent of mass sheep-farming around 200 years ago after the Clearances, the lower slopes of these hills would have been covered with trees. Rasmussen explains the same is true of Edinburgh’s Pentland Hills.

We owe the purple heather, that iconic symbol of Scotland, to a combination of deforestation and grazing by Highland cattle and blackface sheep.

“It illustrates the small timescale that humans work on,” Rasmussen shrugs. “Geologically and ecologically it's nothing. We feel that if something’s been like that for 200 years that's for ever.”

Other wildlife highlights at Loch Ardinning include heron, geese and black grouse, who perform their famous courtship ritual in the spring. Rasmussen enthuses about the bluebells, green hairstreak butterflies and small pear-bordered fritillary. The loch is home to swans, pine marten, crossbills and golden-eyed ducks.

As we squelch through the muddy paths (wellies are a must) Rasmussen excitedly spots bog cranberry. I assume I have misheard him – even with my sketchy knowledge I know cranberries aren’t native to Scotland. I follow him through the grass and, sure enough, we notice a spot of red among the green. The bog cranberry is a British species, a relation to the North American plant, with surprisingly big berries for something so tiny.

The team at Loch Ardinning is smaller than its counterpart at the Falls of Clyde but Rasmussen tells me they have an active platoon of volunteers who arrive on the first Saturday of every month and work on conservation projects, from fixing paths to picking up litter. As visitors have been increasing over the years, Rasmussen and his team have put in a funding application to trusts and foundations for £100,000 of footpath improvement. This will be natural and low-key, aiming to aid access in areas where surfaces get wider and more muddy.

After I leave Loch Ardinning I sit at Milngavie train station, waiting for the train back to city life, and reflect on the SWT’s commitment and enthusiasm and how much I have enjoyed my excursions. I take out my phone and begin googling other wildlife reserves I can add to my must-visit list for the future. The SWT estimates that 90 per cent of the Scottish population live within 10 miles of at least one trust reserve. What are you waiting for? Grab your wellies, your friends and family, and get exploring the gorgeous wildlife on your front door.

Visit scottishwildlifetrust.org.uk