Drizzle started as I left, and a kind elderly man stopped to offer me a lift. I think I know who he was- a man who has done a lot of volunteer work to open up the tracks in this area for people's recreation. But I didn't want a lift- I am likely to encounter far heavier springtime rain on the route from Cluny next year, and I was 'training'. The man understood. I love the sense of 'mystery' in the hills when their tops are draped in cloud like this.