Argyll - The Kintyre Way

The Kintyre Way runs for 100 miles from Tarbert to Machrihanish, weaving its way down the Kintyre Peninsula through a varied landscape of beach, moorland and woods. I walked it during one of the weeks of my May holiday. These days there seems to be an irresistible draw for me in springtime for outdoor trips that provide that glorious mix of coast and mountain as well as terrain that provides the rich sounds of the dawn chorus. As usual, I had done little planning for the trip. I just packed a rucsack and headed off with a bus ticket and a map.

I started at the north end of the trail at Tarbert. Setting out, the path climbed steeply above the village and its quaint harbour, passed Tarbert Castle and continued onwards through mixed woodland. Looking back, Tarbert perfectly demonstrated its name. It comes from the Gaelic word meaning a portage where boats would have been hauled across a narrow isthmus of land between two bodies of water. Here Tarbert connects West Loch Tarbert and Loch Fyne.

The trail continued to pull me uphill until eventually I emerged on top of the spine of the peninsula. I would do this several times during the walk. The views here stopped me in my tracks. Islay and Jura drifted hazily offshore and from this angle, Arran looked like a jumbled mass of ridges and peaks that reminded me of Skye.

From the high ground, the trail dropped to the east coast of the peninsula at Skipness and wandered south for a few miles to Claonaig. After here I climbed again, picking my way up through oak woods carpeted with bluebells. I loved this section though. It felt wonderfully wild as it followed an old path meandering across the open moors. The whole trail felt wild to be honest. Aside from people in the villages that it passed through, I met only one other person on the trail itself. 

I dropped down to Clachan now where the trail threaded its way through coastal woods and across little sandy beaches. Further on, this gave way to several miles of tough walking along a shingle shoreline. Added to this, heavy squalls blew in every twenty minutes on a strong westerly wind. It was hard going. At least the view to the island of Gigha, just offshore at this point, provided a pleasant distraction. 

The beach walking eventually ended at Taylinloan where you can catch a ferry over to Gigha, something I want to do on a future trip. But for now I pressed on into the evening looking for a place to camp. Climbing up into the hills again, I found a beautiful spot for the tent at the peaceful, old ruins of Braids Farm.

Next morning, the trail continued over rolling hills, eventually dropping down to Carradale using a series of pretty woodland paths. Here, Arran seemed close enough to touch. Then needless to say, it was time to climb again over those hills. There was a treat first at least.

For a short section of trail, the route passed through the grounds of Torrisdale Castle and right by the gin distillery here. It made me laugh to see the sign at the start of this section which read "Welcome to the Gintyre Way". I didn't sample the gin but did have my first coffee and cake on the trail. It was just as well because I ended up walking far into the evening before I found a spot for the tent. 

The one advantage of the long walk was a short walk the next again day which put me into the peninsula's main settlement of Campbeltown with time to explore. Campbeltown has been settled since the sixth century. Once a centre for fishing, coal mining and whisky production, its economy is now based on farming and tourism. It has a very fine waterfront, with boats clustered in the harbour and a long promenade. I especially liked the sculpture here that marks the start of the Caledonia Way cycling route. Its called "The Cask" and is a nod to the fishing and whisky industries of old. 

South of Campbeltown the Kintyre Way follows a minor road to the village of Southend which is well named. A tiny hamlet at the very bottom of the peninsula, Southend has a golden crescent of beach and a distant view to Ireland on the westerly horizon.

I had a few miles of road walking after Southend through the lush, green fields of the local farms. At Amod, I took an alternative to the official Kintyre Way which passes over Amod Hill. The winds were up again and it seemed unlikely that I would find a suitable camp spot on the open hillside. So I opted instead for the forest track that continues above the Breakerie Water. It was a good decision because I hit the jackpot with my camp spot that night.

A little way up the glen were the ruins of Glenahanty farm. It was a delightful spot to camp with the tumbled down stonework of the old farm walls gradually being reclaimed by ferns and wildflowers. The river murmured close by and woods enclosed small pastures. The evening birdsong was rich and varied with an owl taking over after dark.

I was reluctant to leave Glenahanty the next morning but the final day of the trail lay ahead and what a day it would be. Climbing back into the little hills above Glenahanty, I soon rejoined the main Kintyre Way. It headed north, contouring above the dramatic sea cliffs of Cnoc Moy. At one point the path was uncomfortably close to the edge and gave me the heebie jeebies. But generally the path was well engineered for the foot traveller and picked a safe way through the rocks and drops. At times, I would look up ahead and the path appeared to disappear over an edge but when I got to the edge, the path had always found a way through gentler ground to continue onwards. Down below Atlantic waves crashed onto the rocks until eventually at Innean Glen the steep slopes gave way to a crescent of sandy beach. Here were the remains of old structures, remnants of the people who once lived and farmed here. 

The trail eventually climbed up out of Innean Glen to cross boggy moorland before descending to the end of my walk at Machrihanish. Looking back on the trip, the Kintyre Way is not a walk of endless dramatic scenery or single points of immense beauty. But it was wonderfully empty and took me on a delightful meandering journey through quiet hills, hidden woods and deserted beaches. I will go back some day.

Fact File
All the photos on Flickr

Start: Tarbert

Finish: Machrihanish
Public transport: Citylink bus from Glasgow to Campbeltown stops at the start at Tarbert then I returned to Glasgow catching the same bus in Campbeltown at the end of my walk. A local bus runs about three or four times a day from Machrihanish to Cambpeltown. 
Accommodation: The first night I took the ferry from Claonaig over to Lochranza on Arran to use a camspite there and took the first ferry back over in the morning. I booked a hotel room in Campbeltown the day before I would arrive there but I think I was lucky as there is not a lot of accommodation. The other nights were wild camping.
My route: The route is well described on the Walkhighlands site. At the turn off at Amod Farm, I stayed on the road and took the next forest track to the left after the house at Dalsmirren. It passes Glenahanty and climbs to another abandoned farm at Largiebaan to rejoin the official route just beyond here.
 

Cairngorms - Ne'er cast a clout

The wind at the north and east,
Was never good for man nor beast.
So never think to cast a clout,
Until the month of May be out.

Ne'er cast a clout is a wonderful old saying that is so very true. It means don't pack your winter clothes away until May is over. Many people believe "May" refers to the mayflower or hawthorn rather than the month itself as hawthorn blossoms in May. Either way, the phrase was in my mind for this early May backpacking trip to the Cairngorms. It was very cold for the season!

My trip started out of Braemar with a wonderful walk west through the fabulous Morrone Birkwood. Here a little path meanders through the spring birch trees and all the while you are gazing to the distant horizon to the glimmering, snow-streaked Cairngorms.

The birch woods then give way to the Scots pine woods on the Mar Lodge estate which is owned by the National Trust for Scotland. They are doing a fabulous job rewilding the place. Every time I visit, the little pine trees seem to have crept higher and higher up the hillside. It was a decent way up Carn na Criche before I climbed passed the last of the trees.

I love the top of Carn na Criche for some strange reason. I'm not sure why as it's not a significant peak for hereabouts. It's a steady pull then a pleasant amble on a carpet of wind-clipped turf across high, open ground to the top. It feels wild, remote and lonely. I always have the place to myself. And as I so often say, it's a small peak but slightly isolated from the larger peaks all around so it has an uninterrupted panoramic view. Just as I was approaching the top, a squall of snow blew in and I was glad I was wearing my "clout".

I dropped off the northeast shoulder of the hill, a rough, boggy walk, to pick up a path through to Glen Gairn. It passes through an atmospheric cleft in the hills which is un-named on the OS map though I call it Ouzel Pass because in summer there are abundant ring ouzels here. The ring ouzel is similar to a blackbird but has a necklace of white feathers and likes higher, rockier places. The pass is perfect for them. As usual, their distinctive calls echoed from the rock walls as I walked through the pass. 

It's such an atmospheric place with steep scree slopes and a floor jumbled by huge boulders. A little stream meanders through and is a pleasant companion for a slow saunter. Evening was moving in now and I was ready to make my second camp of the trip. I made sure I was well beyond the ring ouzels before pitching.

It was a bitterly cold night and I woke in the morning to a frozen tent. But the day had dawned bright and calm, perfect for a climb up Ben Avon. Having previously climbed Ben Avon via the bealach between it and Beinn a'Bhuird, I chose a different route this time. The map showed a path leaving Glen Gairn and ascending beside the Allt an Eas Mhoir. I chose this route and it was beautiful. The river, swollen by snow melt and sparkled by the sun, tumbled down from the plateau above. Its gully was still filled with deep snow in places. Here and there the river had carved snow tunnels which always fascinate me. Up ahead the snow became more extensive, eventually broadening out into a large snowfield. Then two golden eagles appeared overhead, circling silently above me for several minutes. It was wild and magical. Soon I found myself walking across the large snowfield on the plateau itself. What a place that day. The rocky tor on Ben Avon's summit rose dramatically above the snow, weak sun filtered through the clouds and I had the place to myself.

I could see the weather was changing though with a front moving in from the west. I ate lunch quickly among the cold stacks of rocks on the summit then descended, using the bealach route to come down. Even here, there were deep gullies of snow to cross and fragile snow bridges over the streams.

It had been a beautiful walk that day on Ben Avon and, content with at least one mountain day, I spent the next couple of days enjoying the pinewoods. It's so wonderful to wander slowly through this old place, to hear the wind in the trees, the gush of the river and the bird song of spring. It's totally rejuvenating. 

I lingered a while at the Linn of Quoich and the Punchbowl, the hollowed-out rock feature in the river. It was lovely to see the little lodge here had been renovated by the National Trust and unlocked for you to have a wee nosey inside. It's said Queen Victoria took her picnics here.

After a good poke around the pinewoods, it was time to retrace my steps to Braemar. A chilly north wind blew through the village while I was waiting for my bus home and I was glad again that I hadn't "cast my clout".

Fact File:
All the photos on Flickr

Start/finish: Braemar
Public transport: Train to Dundee then the Ember Dundee to Aberdeen bus via Braemar.
My route: West from Braemar through Morrone Birkwood. The end of the path connects to a forest trail which eventually joins the wee road from Braemar to Linn of Dee. A short walk along this quiet road took me to Victoria Bridge which enabled me to cross the Dee onto the Mar Lodge estate. After the bridge, I took the forest track to the right which eventually connects with the track up Glen Quoich and to the Linn of Quoich. Crossed the Quoich at the Punchbowl and took the track heading north behind the wee lodge. After a stream crossing, a fainter track leaves it to the right to climb the hill and soon a small path leaves this track. It climbs most of the way to the top of Carn na Criche before turning south. It's pathless to the top then down the other side as well to join the path that comes up from Gleann an t-Slugain. Followed this path north before the taking path to the south of Carn Eag Dubh into Glen Gairn. Climbed Ben Avon via the path on the OS marked beside Allt an Eas Mhoir and descended via the path further west beside Glas Allt Mor. Passed back over Carn na Criche (cos I do love that hill!) and wandered the pinewoods of Glen Quoich and through Clais Fhearnaig before retracing my steps to Braemar.

Highlands - Winter into spring

A cluster of trips through February to April marked the transition in the year from winter into spring; from the quiet months into the months filled with bird song. Two of the trips were well worn routes for me and my friend but one of them was something new.

The usual walk from the train at Rannoch through to Corrour along the Road to the Isles marked the last cold trip of the year, although there wasn't much snow evident on the hills. We had a short walk the first day, just a couple of hours or so from Rannoch. The cheap train tickets were on so we weren't bothered that we didn't make a full day of it. 

The tents were pitched on a lovely, flat shelf of grass beside the Allt Eigeach with a view to the Bridge of Orchy hills. I'd last used the spot 13 years ago with my good friend, Bart. It was winter then but with more snow on the hills as was the case in times of old. 

It was a lovely walk the next day in weak winter sunshine through to Loch Ossian, Corrour and the train home.

March (and still cheap train tickets) provided the opportunity to climb a wee hill above Newtonmore that was new to me. As we walked in along Glen Banchor, the natural world was coming alive with bird song in the woods and frogs mating in the pools and puddles. 

It was a stiff pull up the wee hill as there was not much of path. I guess not a lot of people walk this way. The glen may have shifted into spring but it was still winter on the tops with a bitter wind blowing through. The same wind was hellbent on pulling out our tent pegs during the night.

April then saw a short trip to a favourite camp spot in the woods above Mill Dam to the north of Dunkeld. I love this spot because it's completely hidden but sits on a wee knoll at the edge of woods with a lovely view over the varied landscape spread out below. 

The walking routes to get there are all lovely in spring sunshine and at this time of year, are dotted with the first of the wildflowers. 

I also love it because the bird song in spring is superb and most of the trip is simply spent lying in the tent listening to it. Particularly vocal this time was a song thrush right above the tents and at dusk, a roding woodcock making its strange quack-like call as it flew round its territory.

Speyside -The light fantastic

This was a short overnight trip tagged onto another with a later train popping me out at Newtonmore for the walk through to Kingussie. The timing turned out to be perfect as the afternoon light was softening and spreading over hills hanging onto the last of their winter snows.

The pull up from Newtonmore soon opened up the view across a landscape of winter fields and bare birch woods to the snow-covered Feshie hills. Coire Gharbhlach drew the eye, a huge bite out of the mountainside. The sun was still in its low winter arc and casting a warm light so that last year's grasses and bracken were with tinged with gold. 

The high path headed east, the track ahead rising and falling over the moor with its route picked out in snow. My walk was a slow saunter, sucking in the views and the fading atmosphere of winter. Wondering where the time had gone; the season seems to have flown by too quickly. I already can't wait for the cold and the dark to return later in the year. Spring and autumn I'll enjoy before then but for me, summer is something that has to be endured.

By the time I'd mulled all this over, the path had reached Loch Gynack, narrowed and entered the beautiful birch woods up here. The gnarly old trunks cast shadows across the route and the finer branches gave the place a subtle purple tinge. 

I was now on the hunt for a new camping spot. I'd used a few places in this area but none of them ideal. I crossed the Gynack Burn and wandered up through the woods on the other side before emerging again onto open moorland. Following a fainter track downhill on a whim took me to the most perfect tent pitch. A lovely shelf of flat grass had a panoramic view across the Spey Valley to the Feshie hills, their rounded outlines creating huge domes of snow. Dense snow showers moved across the landscape engulfing one hill after the next and the late afternoon sun played on the hillsides with an ephemeral light show. But as the sun sank further, the softness and richness of the dying light was beautiful.

A cold night followed with the temperature dipping below zero. Breakfast was eaten watching the sun's morning light show. It lit up the Feshie hills from behind and looked like a wild fire was rampaging across the top of the snow slopes. 

I packed up a frosty tent and walked down into Kingussie. It had been a short trip but it made the best of the fantastic light.

Fact File
Start: Newtonmore train station
Finish: Kingussie train station

Public transport: Edinburgh/Glasgow to Inverness trains stop at Newtonmore and Kingussie
My route: Out of the train station walked up to the main street in Newtonmore and turned right. Almost at the end of the village, took Strone Road up to the left. It climbs then swings left and then left again - here a track leaves it to head north. This is the route through to Kingussie via Loch Gynack and is signed at a few points.

Perthshire - Snowshoe sequel

I don't know exactly what it is about snowshoes that create an incredible sense of fun out in the snow. Perhaps it's the joy of the easy movement they afford across the winter landscape or the fear they banish of post-holing thigh deep in a snow drift. Whichever it is, this return visit to Blair Atholl was a huge amount of fun with the snowshoes.

We walked out of the village via Old Blair and soon strapped the snowshoes on as we started to ascend the forest tracks. There had been a little more snow since our visit the previous weekend. Soon we were free of the trees and picking our way up deeper snow, aiming for a modest wee hill above the village. 

We threaded our way up banks of snow to eventually arrive beside the summit cairn. There were more limited views this weekend but we did see a huge herd of deer pouring over the higher hills behind us. By the time we had dropped back down to where we'd left our camping kit, the light was already leaving the short winter day. But we'd planned a night time walk anyway to a camp spot at the head of Glen Banvie. 

We set out with just enough daylight to see by in the woods. As we left the trees and passed into the open glen, the snow reflected what light there was and the hills were bathed in a silky pale light. Without a drop of wind, the landscape and the evening were magical. Before too long, we did have to put on our headtorches. The beams shone a few metres ahead of us as we walked on through the snow and were now the only light in the pitch darkness. We were walking Comyn's Road, part of an old military route and even under snow, the path was easy to follow. I also knew well the camp spot we were aiming for, having used it a few times before. So when we re-entered woods, I knew we were almost there. It was funny how much further the miles seemed in the darkness though. By 6pm we were clearing snow and pitching the tents, leaving the evening ahead for a production line of hot chocolate, soup, mains then tea with Christmas cake. 

Next day, the morning light revealed the beauty of our camp spot as the tents nestled among snow-plastered pines. After the morning production line of coffee, porridge and more coffee, we walked back to Blair Atholl via a more southerly loop.

Fact File
Start/finish: Blair Atholl
Public Transport: Edinburgh to Inverness train
My route: Riverside path along River Tilt then back road to Old Blair. At the crossroads, took the track heading northwest on the north side of Banvie Burn. After about 1km another track joins it from the right. Took this track up through the woods and onto the open hillside, climbing an outlying top of Meall Reamhar. Returned to the track junction, continued northwest, crossed the river by the next bridge and followed the track northwest on the south side of the Banvie Burn. This can be followed in a loop to the head of Glen Banvie then south towards the Falls of Bruar before turning east back to Old Blair. 

Review of the snowshoes I used HERE.

Perthshire - Winter wander/wonder

Decent amounts of snow finally arrived with the new year. There was no need to travel further than Perthshire to enjoy it, so this winter wander started from the train at Blair Atholl. 

A light covering of snow made for a pretty walk north through the woods of Glen Tilt and for beautiful views to Carn a'Chlamian where the trees opened up. Tornadoes of spindrift raced across the higher slopes and though we didn't realise it then, this was a portent of the afternoon to come. 

We peeled off from Glen Tilt and in deeper snow trekked out through the forest to follow the Allt Slanaidh north. Where the trail climbed and left the trees, the world around us was wild. A bitter wind scoured the moors, clearing the trail of snow and though a late afternoon sun sent some rays our way, there was not a drop of warmth in them. 

We reached our intended camp for the night at a lonely, wooden hut but failed to find a place where we could get tent pegs into the permafrost that the ground had become. It would have been a miserable night up there anyway in those winds. So in failing light, we turned around and descended back to the woods, finding a lovely spot for the tents among tall pines.

But it was the second day that provided a walk through a winter wonderland. Fresh snow had fallen overnight. It filled in the woodland trails and plastered the tree branches. A weak winter sun pulled itself above the hills and brought the whole place alive in low angled light and shadows. 

We wandered for hours, enjoying the beauty of the snow-covered landscape and listening to our footsteps squeak in the powdery snow. A stream choked with icicles tumbled gently down from the hill above into a frozen pond. A little way further on our trail crossed an open field. Here the wind barreled through and the snow had drifted onto the path, giving the place a wild, boreal feel to it. Behind us, the graceful arc of Carn Liath appeared briefly from snow clouds.

Then our view opened up more widely and a landscape of winter farms was laid out before us with Ben Vrackie rising above. There are few things more lovely I think than rolling, snow-covered fields. 

The failing light of a short, winter day caught us again as we dropped back into Blair Atholl. The charm of the village Christmas tree in the snow softened the blow of a wonderful day coming to an end. We didn't know then that there would be an equally wonderful sequel.

Fact File
More photos on Flickr

Start/finish: Blair Atholl train station
Public transport: Glasgow/Edinburgh to Inverness train
My route: Out of the station turned right along the main road and picked up the Glen Tilt path just before the road bridge over the river. Left the main track up the glen to ascend to the Jubilee Range then joined the track northwest along the Allt Slanaidh, turning back at the hut. Next day, followed the tracks through Blairuachdar Wood, Glen Banvie and the Whim.