East Cairn Hill and the Cauldstane Slap - Bleak and black and white

Robbers and reivers; hunted; beaten and shot; survival. These grim words headed up each paragraph on the information board at the start of the path which set out the history of the old route we were about to walk. They certainly created an air of foreboding that was heightened by the bleakness of the winter day. We'd just watched the sun barely pull itself above the peaks to the east only to be immediately engulfed in dense, low cloud, that reverted the morning to twilight. Old, hard snow speckled the fields which were parceled up by the black lines of criss-crossing stone walls. The route of the path ahead, part of the Cross Border Drove Road, was picked out in the snow so that we could trace its white line all the way up to the Cauldstane Slap, a low slung pass between East and West Cairn Hills. There was no colour to the day and the world appeared monochrome.

The Cauldstane Slap is a relatively remote spot for these parts, far to the west of Edinburgh and a bit off the beaten track. The two hills either side held a fair bit of snow and West Cairn looked quite dramatic, rising in white ramparts above the trees. But we were heading for East Cairn Hill, the highest point within the Edinburgh city boundary.

The Cross Border Drove Road and the Cauldstane Slap were used to move cattle from the Falkirk trysts into the Borders and on into England. It was a route of some significance that saw tens of thousands of cattle and sheep pass through annually at its peak. Inevitably it also earned the name of Thief's Road as it was used by cattle thieves as well as drovers.

We headed off, walking alongside an old wall initially then passing through scrubby woodland. We were grateful the temperature was below zero and the ground frozen because it looked like the route was just bog otherwise. The wettest sections had been bridged by wooden planks which were quite tricky to cross with a layer of thick ice along the top. Eventually, we pulled microspikes onto our boots and made easier work of it. 

Before the land started to rise to the Slap, we crossed a small river via a wooden bridge. A quick look at the map showed this to be the fledgling Water of Leith whose source is at Colzium Springs, a little to the west of where we were now. 

As we crossed the bridge, we looked up to the climb ahead and saw that the tops of East and West Cairn Hill were now obscured by the enveloping mist. The Slap was still clear and we plodded on, finally pulling up onto the pass after a walk that seemed much longer on the ground than it had looked on the map. We'd no sooner arrived, than the Slap was also engulfed in the mist, drawing in our world to the few metres around us.

From the Slap we set out up East Cairn Hill. It's not far and it's not a difficult walk but some deep snow drifts demanded extra effort, so we were no less pleased to see the stones of the summit cairn emerge from the gloom. There was no view of course but I loved the other worldly atmosphere imparted by the mist.

The stone cairn afforded enough shelter from the biting wind to sit a few minutes, pull on our duvet jackets and eat our picnics. Then we battled our way back off the hill in deteriorating conditions to make the long walk back.

Fact File
Start/finish: Little Vantage

Public transport: None to the start; used my friend's car given the current COVID restrictions and there is a car park at the start of the walk. In future, I would take the train to Kirknewton and cycle down from there.

Route: Path is signed from the road and it's a straight forward path to the Cauldstane Slap with waymarker posts to the bottom of the rise to the Slap. Followed the fence line northeast from the Slap to the bealach between the two tops of East Cairn and it's an easy ascent to either from there. Returned via the same route.

Pentland Hills - City slickers

Back in the heady days of Covid Tier 3 before Christmas, my extended household and I made a camping trip to the northeast half of the Pentland Hills. This area lies within the city boundary and is the only “wild” place available to me under the higher tier rules. This has made it popular and we found all those extra feet plus the wet weather had made the normally dry, firm trails turn slick with mud. Amusingly, I had not packed my gaiters at all while Graham had grabbed from his cupboard a pair that were several sizes too small and more suited to dainty, slim ankles.

Our walking route headed out from Bonaly with a stiff climb up towards the reservoir but we turned off just before to pull ourselves up the north side of Capelaw Hill. This is my favourite hill in the Pentlands. I don’t know why because it’s not the highest or most shapely but I love the expanse of its flat top which has big views all around. These views extend southwest where the rest of the Pentlands stretch towards Lanark and north to the city below, backed by the blue waters of the Firth of Forth.

We made an undulating walk westwards next, dropping down into Phantom Cleugh and walking up over Harbour Hill (which is far from the sea). We then descended towards the popular path that comes up from Harlaw. Goodness it was busy but, like us, folk don’t have many places to go. We’d started quite late so decided to stop here for lunch as a shower of rain was moving in from the west.  I also wanted to try my new, two-person bothy shelter. This is essentially a waterproof bag that you pull over yourself and when you sit down, your backs give structure to the bag. I had tried one before and it was a great escape from the weather to eat lunch or look at the map. There weren’t too many folk around when we tucked ourselves up in the bothy shelter and once inside we became oblivious to the outside world. However, when we emerged after our picnic lunch there were loads of people, staring our way, wondering what on earth we were doing.

Our walk continued over Bells Hill next which I hadn’t been up before and descended to a quiet, hidden glen on the other side. The cambered path on the side of the hill was especially slippery as slick mud mixed with heather stems, a frustrating combination. The escape from here was even boggier and eventually we were ploughing through water to reach the main track that dissects the hills. Finally, some firm ground for an hour or so. Before too long, we turned north and walked back towards Harlaw through Maiden’s Cleugh (which sounds a bit rude).

As we came over the pass here, the golden hour was upon us with the sun sinking to the west. So was the rain upon us. Along with a stiff breeze, this dissuaded us from camping on a summit and instead we headed for the shelter of the woods. This was mid December so it was dark by four in the afternoon but a bright moon cast some light later for a night time walk back up the path. 

A peaceful night gave way to a stunning sunrise and an early walk back along farm tracks lined with winter hedgerows that sealed the trip with a little treat – a beautiful goldcrest flitting about just a foot from our faces.

Fact File
Start/finish: Bonaly village store
Public Transport: Lothian buses number 10
My route: Walked up Bonaly Road to its end at a car park then continued straight on the track. Just before the reservoir a path left through a wide gap in the forestry. This swung round the edge of the trees, climbed over a wall then ascended the north ridge of Capelaw. Followed obvious path southwest over Harbour Hill, Bell's Hill then descended into Den's Cleugh. A path and then a track head southeast along White Cleugh Burn to join the main track at Logan Cottage. Turned left then half way along Glencorse Reservoir took the path signed to the left Harlaw and Bonaly. Where this path drops down the other side and passes through a gate in a wall, turned right towards the trees. Followed this track until it meets the tarmac road then turned right. When the road ends at the cottages, took a sharp right onto a dirt track and followed this to Clubbiedean then Tordfuff Reservoirs. Crossed the dam of Torduff Reservoir and this path joined with the outward route. 

Trossachs - An alternative Christmas

With the COVID travel restrictions eased for Christmas Day and my decision made to not mix with other households, an alternative Christmas beckoned in the hills, especially as tighter restrictions were moving in from Boxing Day. So my extended household and I headed to the Trossachs. 

We arrived into a cold, grey day with a ceiling of low cloud that blocked out the sun and kept the day in a perpetual twilight, so characteristic of this time of year. Throughout our walk showers of fine rain would gather in the west around the slopes of Ben Venue then sweep east across the valley, soaking our jackets, trousers and rucksacks but leaving sparkling beads of water on tree twigs. As the weather shifted at moments, huge banks of dense, white mist billowed up the valley like a slow-moving avalanche and we watched it, mesmerised. But splashes of colour were added to this dreich day by the birch trees and the withered bracken. Of course, this is the kind of day I love when the elements are all around me.

Our walk climbed steeply from the shore of Loch Vennachar on a path that was heavily iced up. This was welcome because the wet second half of the year has turned everywhere to bog but the frozen ground was much easier to walk on. Mind you, there were still some pockets of unfrozen ground and it was impossible to tell until you stepped onto the boggy bits if they were frozen and would hold your weight. On this icy path, we ascended up through beautiful oak and birch woods, eventually popping out above the trees into what felt like a secret world, hidden up in the mist.

Our route made a high traverse west next, through a pleasant landscape of heathery knolls, to eventually emerge above Glen Finglas. The sun very briefly broke through the clouds here and illuminated the woods that carpeted the hillside, bringing out the purple and orange hues of the winter trees. Two deer ran by and a snipe exploded from the undergrowth. We dropped down the hill now to briefly pick up the glen road and walk by the cottages that we’d seen from the hill above. Their chimneys puffed smoke from cosy fires inside. 

A network of trails took us back through the woods and to the water’s edge at Loch Vennachar. We walked through Little Druim Wood on the way which was dotted with art sculptures including a beautiful deer whose open metal structure seemed to emerge from the forest itself. 

At the loch shore, I pitched the outer cover of one of my tents to make a shelter from the rain and laid out a groundsheet for sitting on. Here we watched what daylight there was fade into night. The geese out on the water were the only sound that drifted to us as we cooked a Christmas dinner on our camp stoves – soup with bread, curry with rice and tea with Christmas cake. 

Then it was time to pack up and walk back through the night-time woods. 

Fact File
Start/finish: Woodlands Trust visitor centre Glen Finglas near Brig o'Turk
Public transport: In normal times and not on Christmas Day, I take a bus from Stirling to Callander and use the Great Trossachs Path to reach Glen Finglas.
Route: Centre is closed currently due to Covid but there are numerous paths and routes in the area detailed on noticeboards outside or here.

Hillwalking for the non car owner

A few weeks ago I was interviewed virtually by one of Scotland's best known outdoor writers who goes under the name Munro Moonwalker. A chance comment by me on his Facebook page about accessing the hills without a car seemed to strike a chord and he made contact for more information about my experiences. I've never owned a car so all my solo hillwalking and cycling trips are done by public transport. Even the majority of trips with friends will use buses and trains as we find this much more enjoyable. I originally replicated on my own blog the answers I collated, especially as they didn't all appear in the article. However, I've since agreed that the information I provided can be used for an article in the Munro Society Journal. So I'll just give a flavour in this blog and include some of my photos that I submitted to accompany the material.

My most important reason for never owning a car and using boot, bike, bus and train to get around is an environmental one. The main source of air pollution in this country is transport and the majority of vehicles emitting that pollution are individual cars. All that pollution contributes to ill health and climate change. Public transport is still associated with emissions of course but it's a more efficient way of moving people around. The huge volume of cars on our roads now is also the main reason people quote for not travelling actively by bicycle or walking, so it's a double whammy for poor health. Supporting rural train and bus services is important as well to ensure they are kept running for those who depend on them.

The other reason for not owning a car is simply that I enjoy life so much without one. In terms of hillwalking, it can be challenging getting to some hills by public transport or bicycle but this makes things more rewarding and forces you to be creative in how you go about things. I think it also improves your planning and risk assessments as there is no easy escape home if a storm is moving in and the last bus has left. Likewise, you don't have the security of a car at the bottom of the hill. The train especially is such a relaxing way to travel as you can chat with friends or watch the scenery and enjoy a cup of tea from the trolley service. The bus is great for wherever the train doesn't reach and bus drivers can be really helpful about dropping you right at the start of a walk. Both of these open up great possibilities for through routes, where you start and finish at different places because you don't have to get back to wherever you've parked a car.

Overall, it just feels the right thing to do and I believe I'm happier and healthier for not owning a car.

Corrour Station: a favourite spot for jumping off the train in the middle of the hills.

Drumochter: I climbed the Drumochter Munros using the train to Dalwhinnie then the folding bike to bridge the gap between the train station and the start of the walk.

Achnashellach is another favourite station that gives good access to Torridon to the north or the Monar Munros to the south.

Caledonian Canal: I used the canal towpath and a kick scooter to get form the train at Banavie to the Loch Lochy Munros.

Argyll - Essential travel

Before the COVID tier system came into place, I'd a reason to do some essential travel to support a friend at an important work event. I took the opportunity to get an earlier train there and grab some time outside, using the West Highland Way to walk from the station at Bridge of Orchy through to Kingshouse. It was a beautiful autumn day for it and the hill colours were at their fiery finest.

From Bridge of Orchy the route ascended to the pass of Mam Carraig which opened up the view to the sweeping lines of the peaks and ridges that culminate in Ben Starav. 

From this high point, the path dropped down to Inveroran. I loved the message board outside the hotel here where folk who had passed on the West Highland Way this year had scribbled their names. The route leaves Inveroran to climb up onto Rannoch Moor, heading north on the old parliamentary road.

Up on the moor, the colours were ablaze in the autumn sunshine with russets and golds that contrasted with blue skies and grey rock. I love striking out across the moor here. It feels wide open and empty. 

The only feature that the path crosses is Ba Bridge which takes it over the rocky gorge of the Ba River. Today birch trees that were clustered around the bridge added gold and purple to the pallet.

The sun was starting to sink now and the Black Mount peaks cast their shadows across the moor. I'd planned to be out late though, to finish the walk after dark. So I climbed higher onto the older military road, which was marked by a crumbling stone cairn. With big views, this was a great spot to watch the sun set. As it did so, shafts of light illuminated patches of hillside in turn and the lochans studded across the moor appeared alight, as they reflected the orange glow of the hills.

There was just enough light left in the day to bring me down to Kingshouse without a headtorch. Waiting there was my friend, a pot of tea and a nice surprise - we'd been upgraded for free from the bunkhouse to a swanky room.

Fact file
More photos HERE

Start: Bridge of Orchy

Finish: Kingshouse Hotel

Public transport: Citylink buses and West Highland line trains for Bridge of Orchy; Citylink buses for Kingshouse.

Route: Exit the station at Bridge of Orchy down the stairs and turn left at the bottom. This is now the West Highland Way and well signed through to Kingshouse. 

Dava Way - Delayed departure

The Dava Way is a walking and biking route that uses the line of the old Highland Railway between Grantown-on-Spey and Forres. It passes high over heather moors and open hills but it’s also bookended by beautiful, autumn woods. As it’s only 24 miles long, we thought there’d be no trouble in delaying our departure from Grantown on our bikes to let morning rain pass. We were so sure that we would easily make it to Forres before dark. But we were wrong!

The route started well enough out of Grantown, cycling through the woods to climb up onto the moor. But we were soon bogged down in mud, courtesy of the recent wet weather, and progress with loaded bikes was extremely slow. Luckily, there was plenty to divert our attention. 

A few miles into the route, the trail passed above Huntly’s Cave ravine, a dramatic cut in the landscape that was almost hidden by dense trees. Above the ravine is Carn-na-Croiche, also known as the Hanging Hill. In the 17^th and 18^th centuries cattle reiving was rife and Huntly’s Cave ravine was an excellent spot to ambush reivers as they returned to Lochaber and Badenoch with their booty. Those caught here were hung on the Hanging Hill gallows.

Leaving this gruesome tale behind, we cycled up onto the open moor and the highest point of the route. We saw nobody up here and it really felt quite remote. Our trail was crossed by another track which headed out over the hills following a route used in 1690 by a party of Government foot-soldiers. They were heading over to Cromdale to suppress a Jacobite army that had encamped there the previous evening. Despite having to ford the River Spey, they won the battle which held back the Jacobite uprising in the Highlands for another 25 years.

In some places, the track was firmer and we made some progress but in other places the chunky ballast, left over from when the line was in use, slowed us even more than the mud. But we loved being out in the hills on our bikes and were reminded how high we were as we cycled into Heatherbell Cutting. The cutting was the site of many line blockages due to snow and this led the railway company to build its first snowploughs. In 1963, a southbound train out of Forres was derailed here in deep snow. Engines sent to assist ended up being stuck for two weeks in the drifts. Nobody was hurt and the passengers eventually made it back to Forres.

Beyond Heatherbell Cutting, we skirted around the edges of a small hill called Knock of Braemory. At the foot of the hill, we pulled into the Halfway Hut. There was a clue in the name that we were way behind schedule! It was clear at this point that we wouldn’t make it to Forres before dark, especially with the early nights of late October. The Halfway Hut is a former linesman's hut and has been renovated for folk to use for a lunch stop or to get out of bad weather. It had plenty of charm with a solar panel powering fairy lights, so we lingered a while inside enjoying some snacks before getting back on the bikes.

As we descended, we passed into a pleasant landscape of woods and pastures, punctuated with the vibrant golds and russets of autumn colours in the trees and the bracken. Before too long, I found among the pines probably the only dry bit of ground for pitching the tents while Graham found a mains supplied tank at the edge of a field that provided water for drinking and cooking. So that was us sorted for a pleasant evening camping in the woods. Unseen birds twittered in the canopy above and gentle rain showered the tents at some point in the night. 

Next day, we cycled the final section of the Dava Way into Forres. It was stunning in places as the track passed through autumn birch woods, their leaves blowing on the breeze like golden confetti. At Forres we turned around but ours was not a return ticket for the Dava Way. Instead, we took a quiet hill road back to Speyside. 

Fact File

More photos on Flickr

Start/finish: Grantown-on-Spey

Public transport: Train to Aviemore then NCN7 to Boat of Garten then quiet back road to Grantown. Or train to Forres and start there.

Route: Dava Way starts behind the campsite in Grantown and signed from the road that passes the campsite. To return we took the B road then unclassified road to Knockando via Dallas. From Knockando used a bit of the Speyside Way back to Grantown but it was also very muddy so we ended up mostly using the B road on the north side of the Spey which was actually very pretty.

Lomond Hills - Covidiscovery

We might not have imagined back in March that coronavirus would still be impacting on our lives in October but many restrictions remain in place and new ones are on the horizon. I’m still not gallivanting all over the place as I did in normal times, especially as I'm dependent on public transport to get further afield. Instead, I’m limiting my travel and still staying mostly quite local. One local trip that had been staring me in the face for some time (literally, as I look at these peaks every day from Portobello) is a traverse of the Lomond Hills with an overnight camp. Although I’d walked East and West Lomond hills many times, I’d never really explored much beyond that, so now was the perfect opportunity.

Walking through the housing estates of Glenrothes may seem like an odd way to start a hillwalking trip but that was my route from the train station in Markinch to the bottom of a woodland path at Pitcairn, on the northern edge of town. I’d not used this path before and it was lovely as it wound its way up through autumn woods to East Lomond. Thick mist and drizzle hung low above the trees and created a grey, clagged in kind of day. There was no view from the top of East Lomond but I loved the atmosphere the dreich weather created which imparted a wilder feel to these gentle hills.

Dropping off the far side of East Lomond and exploring beyond the usual path to West Lomond was a great covidiscovery! The two hills sit on top of a shelf of raised land and here were woods, reservoirs, farms and a network of trails.  As I dropped down, the surrounding towns were obscured and the wild atmosphere was enhanced. I wandered happily for hours, eventually picking up a track that used a wide ride through the trees to reach the farm at West Feal. 

From here, another trail climbed up the gentle side of Bishop Hill to eventually reveal its more precipitous west face. This was my planned camp spot for the night. Bishop Hill is less prominent than East or West Lomond but its long north-south ridge forms the steep eastern boundary of Loch Leven, so the views over the loch are superb. I pitched the tent on the ridge as the evening sun broke free of the clouds and sank beyond the Ochil Hills which straggled westwards towards Stirling.

Next morning, I packed up early and headed north along the remainder of the ridge of Bishop Hill. A grainy, grey light bathed these local hills but further north the twin peaks of Ben Vorlich and Stuc a’Chroin were ablaze in pink and orange. Eventually, at the far end of the ridge, I popped down into Glen Vale, whose sudden, deep depths were quite a surprise. Over the millenia, a chasm has been carved out by water, exposing sandstone rock faces that were laid down 350-400 million years ago. One of the rock features is known as John Knox’s Pulpit as the 16^th century religious reformer was known to have visited Glen Vale.

Leaving Glen Vale, I followed a vague path across fields of sheep to eventually pick up the trail that encircles Loch Leven. I followed the loch shore round to the RSPB centre on its southern edge and climbed the path up Benarty Hill which is also known as the Sleeping Giant. When seen from the north, the profile of the hill looks like a huge warrior in battle headdress lying on his back. I imagined that, like me, he was gazing up to a blue sky scored with straggly skeins of geese.

Dropping down the steep path on the south side of Benarty Hill took me to a trail through the beautiful autumn woods of Harran Hill. This in turn connected me to Lochore Meadows and a short final walk on the pavement to Lochgelly for a train home. This had been a modest trip, not very far and over small hills but I’d loved connecting it up by train, finding wildness close to home and discovering lots of new routes and places.

Fact File

Start: Markinch train station

Finish:Lochgelly train station

Photos: Flickr

Route: Followed the main street west out of Markinch, right at the roundabout then left along Cadham Road, right on Western Avenue, left up Pitcairn Avenue, right on Tanna Drive then left up Moidart Drive to the Pitcairn Centre. There are lots of trails around here so I had the Walkhighlands description of the to route to East Lomond handy. From East Lomond took the main path west to Craigmead, turned left on the road then the first track to the right passed Little Ballo. A path leaves this track and passes alongside the dam of Harperleas Reservoir. At the far side turned right along a track on the south shore of the reservoir. A path leaves this track signed for West Feal then turned right when it joined the track to the farm. Passes behind the farm buildings on the righthand side then climbs to Bishop Hill. Continued north along Bishop Hill then followed a path that dropped to the east to join the main route through Glen Vale. Stayed on the south side of the burn and the path passes into sheep fields before the first dirt track to the right which joins the unclassified road at Glenlomond. Walked to Wester Balgeddie then turned right on the A911 to Loch Leven's Larder - a lovely shop/cafe where there is also a path down to the Loch Leven Heritage Trail (follow the cycle signs). Followed the loch trail to the RSPB at Vane Farm and took the path out of the other side of the centre that goes to Ballingry. At the top of the climb joined the ridge of Benarty Hill. From the trig point a path heads southeast and joins the unclassified road from Ballingry to Lochran. Immediately opposite, took the track and then the path signed through Harran Hill. Walked to Crosshill through Lochore Meadows Country Park and then up to Lochgelly.

Info: Also, in normal times, a nice coffee shop at the RSPB centre with panoramic windows looking over the loch.