Beinn Inverveigh - Pitch perfect

Many years of wild camping throughout my adult life have left me with an unusual quirk. When I am out and about or travelling on trains and buses, gazing out the window, I find myself constantly spotting places that would make a perfect pitch for my tent. This is often in appropriate hill or countryside locations. However, I do also find myself doing it subconsciously in inappropriate places like golf courses or parks, just wherever a nice patch of grass is complemented by an aesthetically pleasing arrangement of flora or has a generally attractive situation. Often when I am in the outdoors walking or cycling, I will spot (appropriate) attractive tent pitches and make a mental note to possibly go back and camp there. That's how my friend and I ended up camping on top of Beinn Inverveigh at the tail end of winter. A day walk up the hill a couple of years previously had revealed a perfectly flat plateau of short turf near the summit with a panoramic view all around. A mental note had been made for a return with the tent.

The West Highland Way path provided a pleasant approach from the train at Bridge of Orchy with a gentle climb to the pass of Mam Carraig. We left the Way here to follow a rougher, grassy path up the hill. 

At 636 metres, Beinn Inverveigh is not a big hill so it wasn't long before we were striding onto the summit ridge. It's one of those hills that although not very high, is slightly isolated from the bigger hills around and therefore provides wonderful views in every direction. To the north and west the Black Mount and the Ben Starav group formed an undulating massif that stretched from Rannoch Moor to Loch Etive. To the east, Beinn Dorain and Beinn an Dothaidh filled the near horizon while to the south the shapely peak of Ben Lui rose above everything else. In the far distance, we could just pick out the snow-covered top of Ben Alder which seemed to be the only significant snow around after a poor winter. 

We pitched the tents on the plateau then made the short walk to the very top of the hill. By the time we were back, the sun was already sinking and casting a golden hour glow over the hills all around. It wasn't the only light show however as later a deep red moon rose above the hills to the south.

There was no golden hour at sunrise the next day as a grey, cold day dawned. Banks of cloud obscured the tops of the bigger hills but our modest peak stayed clear for the return walk to Bridge of Orchy.

Fact File
Start/finish: Bridge of Orchy train station served by Glasgow-Fort William trains and Citylink buses.
Route: Took the northbound West Highland Way path which can be picked up at the station underpass. At Mam Carraig a rough, grassy track ascends Beinn Inverveigh, clear initially but less so across the top.

More photos on Flickr HERE.

Carrbridge - Rise and shine, campers

What a morning to wake up to! A blaze of orange across a blue sky signalled the approaching dawn before the red disc of the morning sun gradually pulled itself above the hills in the east. After a cold night and with barely a breeze, the pinewoods stretched out below our camp spot were threaded with low-lying mist that caught the morning rays. 

Sometimes you just get lucky. A perfect sunrise and a perfect spot from which to enjoy it.

We'd walked there the day before from the train at Carrbridge through springtime woods where frogs croaked from the pools and birds practiced their singing voices again. Our walk took us across the steep arch of the Sluggan Bridge which spans the River Dulnain on the route of General Wade's military road. Beyond here, birch woods gave way to Scots pines which in turn gave way to juniper scrubland. 

Out here we found a high shelf of flat turf, like some sort of glacial leftover. A perfect spot for the tents. It had a view over the woods to the east framed by the Cromdale Hills and a distant Ben Rinnes. Although we were beyond the trees, there were a surprising number of birds singing, including a robin and a song thrush. They filled the dusk air before darkness crept in then a thousand stars filled the night sky. We lay with our tent doors open, gazing up at them. In March, the nights are shortening and there won't be many more starry skies until winter returns. 

After the beautiful sunrise, we walked up onto the open moors, taking in a small, heather-clad hill, Sguman Mor, before dropping down into the valley of the River Dulnain. We sauntered back to Carrbridge through woods and open meadows where toads were on the move and curlews displayed overhead. It had been a fine couple of days to be alive and to be out in the hills.

Fact File

Start/finish: Carrbridge

Public transport: Edinburgh/Glasgow to Inverness train.

My route: Turned left where the road to the station joined the wee road in to Carrbridge and walked about 2.5km up this road before turning off for the Sluggan Bridge. Crossed the bridge and followed the track as far as the cottage at Insharn, just after took the track to the left. Stayed on this track which climbed round the south side of Carn an Ailean then onto Carn Mheadhoin. Then a rough walk to Sguman Mor. A track descended the other side and we cut a sharper line to the bottom of the glen though met a problematic deer fence doing this. Track alongside the River Dulnain eventually returned to our outward route near Sluggan Bridge.

Annandale - Unprepared

With some annual leave from work but gales forecast over the hills pretty much everywhere, I headed down to Annandale for a few days of walking and wild camping. It was a different type of trip for me as I explored part of the Annandale Way, a low level route that meanders through farmland, villages and woods.

The first section north out of Annan was delightful as the quiet path followed the River Annan for several miles inland. I was to see almost nobody on the trail itself over the next few days but I did chat with an older chap here who was shuffling slowly and bent over a walking stick. He told me this was a favourite walk for him and his wife but she had died three years before. They used to walk as far up the river to a spot they named rabbit island where they would watch for kingfishers. 

I continued on through riverside woods dotted with snowdrops and alive with spring birdsong. Ducks and dippers populated the waterway. A little way further upstream I sat a while at a bench looking at an island in the middle of the river and realised that this of course must be rabbit island. It was a lovely, peaceful spot with just the gentle sounds of the river and the birds filling the air. But I felt quite sad sitting there, thinking about the old man and wondering how much longer he would be able to manage the walk here. 

My route then left the riverside to string together a series of countryside paths, woodland walks and muddy farm tracks that took me north towards Lockerbie. It was lovely walking. Curlews and lapwings called from the fields and I saw two red kites cruise overhead.  Just south of Lockerbie, I passed into some woods and found a quiet spot for the tent tucked away in the trees.

I walked into Lockerbie the next morning via a beautiful local nature reserve called Eskrigg. It was wonderful to sit here a while in one of the bird hides listening to the morning birdsong, watching the ducks on the water and spotting frogs that were gathering in the pond. 

Just outside of Lockerbie, the Annandale Way passes by Dryfesdale Cemetery which is home to the memorial for the Lockerbie Air Disaster. I'd planned to visit but I was unprepared for what an emotional but also inspirational place it would be. For those unfamiliar with the disaster, on the evening of 21 December 1988 a bomb planted on board brought down Pan Am flight 103 which was travelling from London to New York. The wreckage fell over a huge area around Lockerbie and all those on board as well as eleven people on the ground were killed. A total of 270 people lost their lives and the disaster remains to this day the deadliest act of terrorism in the UK. 

The memorial sits in a small garden at the rear of the cemetery and features a granite triptych inscribed with all the names of those who died. To see 270 names listed on the stones really brought home to me the scale of the loss. I was 19 in 1988 and watched the tragedy play out over the news. But standing there today, it felt like the disaster had just happened such was the depth of sadness that was rekindled. Also in my mind at the time, it marked a change in my awareness as a young person. Scotland was no longer a quiet corner of the world where nothing ever really touched us. All of the world's problems and horrors were now ours too. However, I also drew great inspiration from my visit to the memorial. It was now a cold, wet afternoon in the middle of the week in March but there was a steady stream of people visiting, paying their respects to those who died, even after all these years.

Beyond Dryfesdale, my walk looped round to Lochmaben to pick up a different branch of the Annandale Way. Again paths and farm tracks were pleasantly linked together to take me onwards. Storm Eowyn earlier in the year had taken its toll with lots of trees down in the woods and forests so just beyond the village of Hightae my route was completely blocked. The windfall proved to be a real windfall however because while searching for a detour, I came across a perfect camp spot for the night in woods halfway up the wee hill I would cross the next day. 

A beautiful dawn kicked off the final day of my trip as the sun sent fiery rays through the branches of the bare trees to reach my tent. Once packed up, I was soon walking across high, open pasture bathed in soft, morning light. It felt quite different to the rest of the trip to pull up above the woods and the fields. From the high point, I could see the river meandering below and a suggestion of distant hills in the haze.

Dropping back down into farmland, I eventually re-crossed my outward route and walked back into Lockerbie. It gave me an easy direct train home as well as a second chance to sit a while at the lovely wee nature reserve and reflect on the sights and emotions of the last few days. 

Fact File
Start: Annan by train from Edinburgh via Carlisle
Finish: Lockerbie for direct train back to Edinburgh
Route: Followed the Annandale Way north from Annan. It spilts into two options, one via Lockerbie and another via Lochmaben. These two options rejoin further north and I used this to walk a loop from Lockerbie to Lochmaben and back to Lockerbie. 

Tyndrum - The fascinating feature of Fiarach

About fifteen years ago I climbed a little hill above Tyndrum called Fiarach with my friends Andrew and Graham. We had been enjoying a lovely wintry weekend in the area, staying at the wigwams in Strathfillan. 

I'd always meant to return to the hill, fancying a high camp near the top and eventually got round to doing that a couple of weeks ago. It was another wintry weekend.

Minus Andrew this time around, Graham and I walked south from Lower Tyndrum train station on the West Highland Way. It was a pretty section of the route, passing through mixed woodland before opening up a view along the valley of the River Cononish. The snow-covered flanks of the high mountains teased us with glimpses but the only hill that was reasonably clear was Beinn Chuirn. The edges of its dramatic rocky corrie were picked out in snow.

We crossed the river on an old bridge and passed into the ancient pine forest, Coille Coire Chuilc, looking beautiful with its backdrop of winter mountains. We soon left the track here to begin a steep ascent up the grassy slopes of Fiarach. We'd decided to follow one of the mountain streams uphill so that we could gather water for camping as high as possible. It provided a pretty start as we picked our way up through sparse birch woods, before emerging on the open hillside. But my goodness it was steep and I'm sure there must have been groans fifteen years ago as we ascended.  

Today we pulled onto the plateau at the top of the climb just as snow showers piled through. Here icicles clung to overhangs in the stream and exposed hands got cold quickly collecting water. A little further on we found ourselves beside the waters of Lochan Fiarach. When Graham, Andrew and I had passed here, the lochan was frozen solid but we stopped to listen to it cracking and creaking as the wind shifted the ice around. On this occasion, it was free of ice and there was barely a breeze to ruffle the surface. A grassy shelf just above the lochan provided a perfect spot for the tents and a good view down to Tyndrum and the railway line far below. After dark, we watched the lights of the trains as they passed north and south between Tyndrum and Crianlarich.

We woke next day to a beautiful morning. A light dusting of snow had passed overnight and everything was white with frost. The view was clearer initially such that our camp spot was framed by the snow-capped Bridge of Orchy hills to the north. To the west Ben Lui, the highest and most beautiful hill in the area, shone with Alpenglow as the sun rose before disappearing again into the cloud. 

After breakfast we made the short walk to the top of the hill. This is where Fiarach gets really fascinating. The top sits at the far end of a dolerite escarpment so that the final section is a pleasant walk along the top of its ridge. It's a surprise to come upon it because from most angles Fiarach looks like a grassy lump but the escarpment adds real character and interest to the hill. It also opens up a wider view of the surrounding peaks and of the alarming drop to the bottom of the escarpment's south facing cliffs. Hundreds of millions of years ago, dolerite was molten rock and when the tectonic plates were moving in this area, the molten magma was thrust out. The escarpment was exposed by softer rock and soils eroding over subsequent millenia.

We couldn't linger long to ponder these aeons of time or the passage of our own lives since we last stood on this spot. Although it had been calm at camp, the top of the hill which was only 52 metres higher, was blasted by a bitter wind that must have dropped the windchill close to minus ten. We grabbed some quick photos then retraced our steps to the tents, packed up and headed back down to Tyndrum. 

The return walk along the West Highland Way afforded good views back to Fiarach and we could just pick out where our little camp spot would have been. It had been a short and simple trip but it had been fun to revisit Fiarach and memories of days gone by. 

Fact File

Start/finish: Tyndrum Lower train station
My route: Headed south on the West Highland Way which can be joined just outside the station. Just after Dalrigh crossed the bridge over the River Cononish and took the track heading west. Struck up the hillside at Coille Coire Chuilc, heading southeast, eventually reaching Lochan Fiarach from where it's a straightforward walk south to the top. Returned the same way.

PS: Nothing dire has happened to Andrew since the last trip; he just wasn't on this one.

Pentlands and Monadhliath - Snow days

Decent cold weather eventually arrived here at New Year and blanketed my local hills, the Pentlands, with snow. My friend and I took the bus out there for a day walk and it was like flying to another country such was the contrast in conditions. There was no snow in Portobello or through the city but we stepped off into several inches of the stuff at Balerno.

The village and the woods en route to the open hills looked so pretty. We'd made a later start so by the time we were at Harlaw it was already lunch. We sat for ages at a picnic bench in the snow-covered wildlife garden watching the birds at the feeders before striking out up Bell's Hill. 

As we gained height, the Pentlands rose around us, their snowy ridges looking Alpine under a clear, blue sky. To the south the view stretched out over snow-covered fields parceled up into white squares by walls and hedgerows. The snow underfoot was perfect, dry powder and had been sculpted into wave-like patterns by the wind, although it was perfectly calm now. 

We made ourselves comfy on the top of the hill and wrapped ourselves up in our blankets to sit a while and watch the sun set. The light changed from dazzling white to soft peach then to a wonderful twilight blue as we descended. Eventually blackness crept in as we picked our way onwards through the dark woods and down Poet's Glen to jump on a bus home. 

The cold snap luckily lasted further into January and we headed off for a weekend of winter walking and camping near Kingussie. On the first day, we strapped on the snowshoes and had a fun walk stringing together the deeper sections of snow on the lower flanks of Carn an Fhreiceadain. 

A grey day turned the world around us monochrome, save for some brief late afternoon rays that pierced the cloud. As we searched for a camp spot in the woods the sun set with a golden flourish beyond the frozen waters of Loch Gynack. We pitched the tents in the trees close to the deer fence. It wasn't the prettiest camp spot but we had good views of the stars and planets as well as a hint of aurora further into the cold, dark night.

Next day, we left the snowshoes hiding under a bush and had a lovely walk up Creag Bheag on the east side of Gynack Burn. This was a modest little hill but without a path to the top and nobody else around, it felt wild, rugged and little-visited. The winter weather cast a bleak veil over the day as well which added to the hill's character. We'd followed a rough track up through the woods then out onto the open hillside before leaving it to climb up through the snow. We marveled at the snow-shoe shaped footprints left by the mountain hares. Clagged-in, grey weather stole wider views but a pleasant rocky ridge on top provided a nice focal point and an excellent back rest for our picnic lunch.

The weather has turned a little milder now, at least here in Portobello but hopefully there will be more snow days before winter is out.

Fact File
Pentlands. Lothian Buses number 44 goes from the city centre to Balerno. Walked out Harlaw Road and at the top of the hill, joined the woodland path that goes to the wildlife garden. Continued ahead skirting the east shore of Harlaw Reservoir then walked up the main path between Harbour Hill and Bell's Hill, heading off right to go up Bell's Hill. Descended to main path then continued down the track known as Ranges Road to link to Poet's Glen into Currie.
Kingussie. Edinburgh/Inverness train stops at Kingussie. Headed up the road then track up the east side of Gynack Burn. Track continues onto open hillside where there was deeper snow for snow-shoeing. For Creag Bheag, took a track uphill beside a bridge about 300m before Pitmain Lodge. It's really pretty as it climbs through the woods and gives good views to Loch Gynack. As it leaves the woods, it swings left onto the open hillside. Followed it a little way then struck out across the heather to the top of the hill. From the top we descended west to the top of the track at Pitmain to make a circular walk.

Speyside and Dava - One way ticket to Forres

In the last blog I cycled an old railway line north of Callander and for the second week of my October holidays I found myself on another old railway line but on foot this time. This was the old line from Grantown-on-Spey to Forres which is now re-purposed as the Dava Way. I chose the route because I'd wanted to soak up more autumn colour while it lasted and I wasn't disappointed.

I didn't start walking in Grantown though but started a few days earlier in Kingussie. Once off the train, I picked up the Speyside Way path beside Ruthven Barracks. I love this section of the route between here and Grantown because it passes through lots of birch and beech woods which are lovely at this time of year. Their russet tones were complemented by explosions of red from the rowan trees which have had an exceptional year of berry production! The path also meanders in a pleasant way between the little settlements that are scattered along the Spey Valley such that you see little snippets of the lives of the people who live here. My favourite spot however was a section of trail that dropped into Kincraig using an old path lined by mossy stone walls and beautiful beech trees whose gigantic limbs overhung the route. 

As the path left the woods, the view opened up to Loch Insh which was encircled by the golds, yellows and russets of the surrounding birch woods. The route is very close to the Inverness railway line here and at one point a fast train passed me close enough to send up a flurry of birch leaves into my path. The first camp spot of the trip was just beyond here, in sparse woods with a view across an open field to the railway line so I could enjoy watching the lights of the trains pass after dark.

After Aviemore the Speyside Way followed the steam railway line towards Boat of Garten where pines and birch dominated the woods. I had tantalising glimpses of the steam from the train as it passed by in a cutting but failed to get a view of the train itself. Forest tracks took me to Nethy Bridge. Then I joined a section of old railway line which provided a lovely camp spot on the banks of the Spey itself before transporting me the next day into Grantown.

Anagach Woods on the approach to Grantown were beautiful in their autumn garb with beech interspersed with pines and the occasional flash of golden birch. Beyond Grantown, I joined the Dava Way for its 24 miles to Forres. The Dava Way is a fabulous route. It travels through woods before striking out across the open expanse of Dava Moor, a fairly empty and desolate place. Then it drops back down into the woods again for its final descent. There is something about the atmosphere of the old line that I love. It feels like a wild place, where the elements dominate, and where an aura of the past lingers as you imagine the old steam trains chugging along the line. I have only ever travelled the Dava Way in late autumn when I have rarely seen another soul and so I think the solitude and peace of the route is also quite special. 

It was nice on this trip to camp high on the moor itself though my favourite spot is the Halfway Hut. It's about the size of a large wooden shed and was formerly a lineman's hut. There are tables and chairs inside and fairy lights to brighten the place up which are powered by a solar panel. On this occasion, the hut had also been decorated with cut out ghosts for Halloween. It was wonderful to sit there for a while and watch the world - a group of whooper swans flew over, pure white against a gunmetal grey sky; flocks of finches made their way along the line-side trees hunting for berries and seeds.

Beyond the Halfway Hut, I was wrapped up again in beautiful autumn woods as the Way travelled onwards towards Forres. I felt completely cut off from the rest of the world as I wandered along the old line, as if nothing else existed beyond the tracks. Occasionally the line would cross farmland and I could see farms and cottages in the distance but the peace of the route was never broken. 

My last night out in the tent was in a quiet birch wood a few hours walk before Forres. Leaves drifted down to the woodland floor covering it like golden pennies and the hooting of an owl sent me off to sleep. Trains may be long gone from Dava but fortunately they are still running from Forres and took me home the next day via Aberdeen. 

Fact File

Start: Kingussie by Glasgow/Edinburgh to Inverness train.
Finish: Forres by direct train to Aberdeen then changing for Edinburgh.
Route: Walked out of Kingussie to the south on the B970 (quiet) and the Speyside Way path starts opposite Ruthven Barracks. It is well signed and described online. At Grantown, the Dava Way starts just beyond the camp site and again it's well signed and described online.