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I first walked across the Firth of Forth on this suspension bridge with my brother shortly after it opened in 1964. By 2018, its role was largely taken over by the cable-stayed bridge just visible on the top-right. Today, we first crossed by train on the 1890 cantilever bridge to the left; here, we’re walking back across the 1964 bridge.

Dwight and I are now in Edinburgh, having bade our friends a temporary farewell. We’re staying in the university area, which we prefer to the overloved city center. Always on the lookout for something we haven’t seen before, we walked over to this former railroad tunnel; built in 1831, it is now part of the National Cycle Network.

​We reached the end of our hike in Pitlochry after yet another day of “good everything”: the hiking, the views, the weather, and the company. It was here I bade farewell to my boots; the soles were simply too worn for another stint. They’ve served me well, but their journey ends here. Already, the four of us are talking about our next multi-day trek.

It’s day 7 of 8 on our Rob Roy Way hike. We’ve settled into a comfortable routine: arriving at our destination by mid-afternoon, just in time for a pot of tea and some cake. ​Today we reached Aberfeldy after a day of stunning views and more waterfalls than we could count. A cuppa and a slice of cake were exactly what we needed before checking into our hotel for a pre-dinner nap.

“£20 for an early check-in,” they said, at a resort in Kenmore at the foot of Loch Tay at the end of day six of our hike. Or, about £14 for beverages from the bar while enjoying this view of Loch Tay from the patio. We opted for the obvious and saved £6 while waiting.

​We climbed up to this loch, which was created by a dam. From here, the water rushes downhill through a tunnel to a hydroelectric plant. Throughout the journey, I’ve been impressed by the scale of the engineering; yesterday, we followed an abandoned hillside railroad, and on another day, passed a Victorian aqueduct built for Glasgow’s water supply. While this dam dates from the 1950s, contrails stretching across the sky offered a nod to even newer technologies.

This isn’t the kind of weather we reasonably expected in the Highlands at this time of year: blue skies and temperatures rising to the low 70s as we hiked to Killin for the night. With no rain forecast for our entire trip, our rain capes remain in our backpacks, and we’re left to enjoy the superb scenery.

Our entire hike today, from Callander to Strathyre, was on a rail trail. We followed a fast-flowing river and a long loch surrounded by wild hills. Along the way, we passed waterfalls and mossy banks. Large slices of cake and a pot of tea sustained us at the end of the trail before we checked into an inn for the night.

The terrain was wilder today as we walked from Aberfoyle to Callander: all moorland, lochs, and rolling hills with great views. We agreed that some of our photos look like something off chocolate box lids, almost too picturesque, but that’s how it looked.

Glimpsed layers of countryside from an often wooded trail on day one of our Rob Roy Way hike along the southern edge of Trossachs National Park. Tonight we’re in Aberfoyle with seven more days of walking ahead. We can still walk as far as we ever did, it just takes us a few more days.

We’re now in Drymen, near Loch Lomond, joined by two UK friends, ready to hike the Rob Roy Way for the next eight days. Dinner tonight was at a pub originally owned by Rob Roy’s sister, a thematic start to our adventure.

Our walk today held quite a few surprises. At the Glasgow Necropolis we happened upon the grave of William Miller, the ‘laureate of the nursery’ and author of Wee Willie Winkie. Behind it, Glasgow Cathedral dominates the skyline.

OMG, etc. Glasgow (Scotland) is hopping tonight. We arrived today and were originally planning on a quiet beer and a light bite for dinner, but the city had other ideas. We took the opportunity to ride the delightfully diminutive subway to a slightly quieter neighborhood instead. As a kid, I absolutely loved riding the Glasgow subway, and I still do.

After an ELL session on Malala Yousafzai with an adult learner, I went to the nearby Minneapolis American Indian Center for a bison melt. Lawn signs out front promoted candidates in the upcoming tribal elections.

I finally got around to seeing “Crossing the Line: The Passport Re-Imagined” at Open Book, just three blocks from our home. Here, the artist has produced passports for migratory birds; the painted eggs represent individual birds, while the cloth satchel serves as a “nest” to hold the eggs and passports. On my own travels, I’ve often been in awe of migratory birds, especially at Farewell Spit on New Zealand’s South Island, where we observed bar-tailed godwits that migrate 7,500 miles to Alaska.

Cycling through the U, I paused for these magnolia blooms. Behind me, a pair of wild turkeys gobbled in precise unison, inching closer to each other with every call. A raptor flew overhead with a twig in its talons, and over at the local eagles’ nest, the mother was shifting her weight, settling in for yet another season.