Corrour - Peter's rock

It had been donkey’s years since I’d walked passed Peter’s Rock. I’m in the area often enough but Peter’s Rock sits on the high track between Rannoch and Corrour, the old Road to the Isles, which passes to the north of the knobbly outcrop of Meall na Lice. I usually use the lower, rougher path, that crosses the empty quarters to the south of Meall na Lice. But this day the rock provided something to aim for when I was looking for a shorter walk, given that the area was under a foot of snow.

Peter’s Rock is marked on the OS map and is one of a cluster of large boulders that sit at the top of the rise above the south shore of Loch Ossian. It always seemed to me a slightly random spot to site a memorial but there it sits. Attached to the rock is a plaque commemorating Peter Trowell who died in the area in March 1979, aged only 29.  A newspaper report dated 28 March that year gives a little information about his disappearance:

“A search by a six man police team with dogs across the hills and glens to Corrour on Rannoch Moor yesterday failed to find any trace of Peter Trowell who has been missing for a week. Mr Trowell, assistant warden at Loch Lomond Youth Hostel, did not report for work last Wednesday. Inquiries at his home address confirmed that he had not been there nor was he at Corrour where he said he was going hill walking. A police spokesman at Fort William said last night that the area was wild and rugged and weather conditions were bad”

There seems to be no more information. I suppose the exact nature of the tragedy that befell Peter Trowell may now be consigned to history, while the poignant epitaph on his rock will be here for eternity. A reminder to those who walk this way that our lives are so delicately balanced. 

The names of landscape features on OS maps are usually very old and in use for generations. The name “Peter’s Rock” was on the first map I bought of this area which would have been in the early nineties. I no longer have my first map but I’m guessing that it would have been the edition from the mid eighties. Peter only died in 1979, so I’ve always been fascinated that the name of his rock was recorded so quickly on the map.

I sat a while at Peter’s Rock, looking out over the snowbound world around me. It was mid afternoon and I’d seen not another soul. Loch Ossian was stretched out below. Its water and fringe of trees were the only things in the landscape not white. The little hostel at the end of the loch looked idyllic today. Nestled in its copse of trees, its winter backdrop was snow-covered mountains.

The day was so still that I heard a raven’s wingbeats as it passed high overhead. Every now and then there were tantalising glimpses of the snow-capped hills in the Mamores to the west but mostly the tops were were obscured by swirling, silver clouds. The sun punched through here and there but it was as cold as steel.

The walk to Peter’s Rock was bookended by two winter wild camps close by. I’d arrived at Corrour on the late afternoon train the day before with no big plans. I’d no snowshoes either and didn’t fancy a plod through the deep drifts on the hills. So the focus of my trip was really enjoying the wild camping. 

My first camp spot was one I’d used many times. It sits on a bend in the river where the backdrop is one of my favourite hills, Leum Uileim. I love the hill’s graceful lines and its east ridge which looks steep and dramatic when you step off the train. The river runs gently over stones at the spot, making a pleasant babbling sound, and if I stand up outside with my morning or evening cuppa, I can watch the trains pass as they begin their descent to Loch Treig or labour up onto Rannoch Moor. On these clear winter nights, the snow reflects the light from the stars and moon so that I can still see the hills all around me, ghostly pale against the inky, night sky.

I love camping in the snow but on this occasion, it had drifted to a good few feet where I’d camped. I'd cleared some snow and stamped down what was left but every time I stepped outside of my tent to fetch water from the river, I sank knee deep in the stuff. So the next morning, I moved to a camp spot in trees which was free of snow and prettily perched on the shore of Loch Ossian. I had camped here once before, several years ago, with my old friend, Bart. We’d seen in the new year on its little beach and were glad of the shelter of the trees in the wilder weather of January. Today the colourful tones of the red bark and green lichen were a dramatic contrast to the monochrome world all around. Moving camp in the cold and snow had consumed a fair chunk of the short day, so the walk to Peter’s Rock was a good option to use what remained of it.

Corrour is a favourite haunt of mine and I’ve had some great times here. This little trip and the walk to Peter's Rock, had so far been enjoyable but with nothing especially memorable, relative to other trips. That was all about to change. Early on my last morning, I unzipped the tent at my camp spot beside the loch to see the water perfectly calm. A thin veneer of ice had formed further out. As I got out my tent, the air was crisp and clear with the sun just clearing the hills. I turned to look towards Leum Uileim at the head of the loch and was greeted by one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. Leum Uileim, with its snow-covered flanks catching the morning light, was perfectly reflected in the still waters of Loch Ossian. I had never seen that view before; never considered before that the hill reflects in the loch. Then I thought about Peter’s Rock up on the hill. The view from there would be spectacular this morning and every morning like it.

The magic lasted about an hour before a breeze picked up and ruffled the reflection. Then the cloud gathered and descended down the flanks of the hills, obscuring Leum Uiliem and extinguishing the morning sun. After an indulgent, lazy morning at the tent, I packed up and walked back to Corrour in light snow showers to catch the lunchtime train home.

Fact file

Start/finish: Corrour train station

Public transport: Trains on the West Highland Line

Route: Exit the train station on the side of the station house and follow the main track east. Don't take the first track to the left but keep straight ahead towards the loch. Adjacent with the hostel, a track leaves to the right and ascends the hillside above the south shore of Loch Ossian. Peter's Rock sits near the top of the climb.
More photos on Flickr

Badenoch - Goody two shoes

Snowshoeing is one of life’s simple pleasures and a great way to enjoy the snow when it’s here. It’s just so wonderful to strap on the snowshoes and set out across a snowy landscape, feeling free and invincible in your amazing footwear. The other good thing about snowshoeing is that no additional special equipment is needed – you strap them onto your regular walking boots and use your usual trekking poles with their snow baskets on the end. The only other thing needed is snow, so when decent amounts finally arrived, I set off for a snowshoeing weekend with my friend, Graham.

Having jumped off the train at Dalwhinnie, our first day was spent on the slopes of Geal Charn at Drumochter. As soon as we left the track, we strapped on our snowshoes and set a pleasant rhythm climbing uphill. When we stopped to draw breath and look around, we saw the sun punch holes in the cloud and play along the flanks and ridges of the winter hills, like a giant searchlight. 

We ate our picnic lunch tucked into the trees at the top of the forestry then continued uphill as snow showers piled through. As we turned back to catch our train, the cloud finally lifted a little to reveal a view to the hills on the other side of the A9 and smudges of blue sky above.

The Inverness train deposited us in Kingussie in late afternoon. We walked north out of town, passing through birch woods in gathering dusk, and pitched the tents on a well kent spot at the top of the golf course. I should point out that it’s not actually on the golf course and anyway, this evening, the greens were as white as the surrounding hills.

Next day we headed into the Monadhliath as early morning sunshine gave way to a low ceiling of cloud that kept the day grey, like a perpetual twilight. However, we had a magical snowshoe walk, contouring up and over the ridge of Bad Each. 

In the conditions there was a wild, Arctic atmosphere to this place and we saw not another soul which added to our sense of excitement and exploration. We weren’t alone however, as all around us were mountain hares in their white winter coats. They left their own snowshoe-shaped footprints in the snow.

In time, a small hut appeared in the near distance and we decided to head there for lunch, using the walls to get out of the wind and the snow showers which were starting to build. By an amazing stroke of luck, the door of the hut was slightly ajar, held loosely by wire, and we let ourselves in. On one hand, I felt slightly guilty entering somebody else’s property but on the other, it was open, we paused only briefly to eat lunch and there is a longstanding tradition in the hills of walkers using open shelters. The interior was wood panelled and simple with a table and a few comfy chairs. The windows were triple glazed and a wood burning stove was set against one wall. We were delighted to find the hut and it provided a wonderful lunch stop out of the gathering blizzard. In time, its discovery will no doubt pass into the legends of our hillwalking adventures.

Lunch over, we donned our shell layers and ski goggles to walk back in wind-driven snow. We followed our outward tracks which were already difficult to pick out - amazing given the size of the snowshoe prints. Before too long, we were re-entering the birch woods above Kingussie. In the shelter of the trees, the snowflakes fell gently down. 

Where the snow thinned, we took off our snowshoes. It felt strange then for the rest of the walk to the train station not wearing snowshoes as we had become so accustomed to them. It felt even more strange returning to Edinburgh and walking across the snow-free city with huge snowshoes strapped to our packs.

Fact File

More photos on Flickr: click HERE

Public transport: Inverness train from Edinburgh/Glasgow stopping at Dalwhinnie and Kingussie

My routes: For Geal Charn, out of the station turned right along Ben Alder Road. At the end, crossed the railway by the level crossing and continued ahead. Took first track to the left then swung right along the south shore of the loch. Ascended the hillside up the far egde of the forestry. For Kingussie, from the station walked up to the main street, turned right then took Ardbroilach Road to the left. Eventually it passes Pitmain Lodge then continues as a track to the open hillside. 

Gear Reviews - Delta ground anchors and gas canister stand

I’ve made a couple of very cheap improvements recently to my camping set up that I’m really pleased with. So I thought I’d share them here.

The first is a set of four Delta ground anchors – a revolutionary new alternative to tent pegs for the main guylines of my tent. I’ve used them on a couple of trips now and although they’ve not been tested as yet in big winds, I’m impressed with them. What is obvious is that they achieve and then maintain a much more effective tension in the four main guylines on my Macpac Microlight tent. 

They also grip the ground much, much more than a traditional peg so once placed, they are reassuringly difficult to get back out. They were also good in the snow last weekend being bulky and bright yellow so there was no chance of them being lost.  

I’ve been using the Microlight again for winter camping since selling my Lightwave tent that you’ll have seen in winter trips on the blog for the last couple of years. For whatever reason, I couldn’t grow to love the Lightwave. Most probably this was down to its long, tunnel design which gives a narrow field of vision through the door and a redundant rear half of the inner which somebody of my small size never seemed to make use of. Switching back to the Microlight, I felt it needed ‘pimped’ for winter use and thought the ground anchors would provide some extra strength.

The set of four anchors cost £11 from deltagroundanchors.co.uk. They each measure 16.5cm by 16cm and each weighs 47g. They are obviously bulky despite being lightweight, much more so than a traditional tent peg. That brings challenges in packing them into a rucsack. To date, I’ve been strapping them to the outside of my pack in a stuffsack. I don’t think I’ll take them on every trip but will certainly always pack them when I’m expecting wind or for a high, exposed camp spot, and almost always in winter.

Addendum: Now have used the ground anchors in high winds and they were superb. They maintained perfectly the tension in the guylines, despite the tent flapping around all over the place.

The second piece of kit is something that’s been around for years but somehow I didn’t bother having one until recently. At the Dalwhinnie trip a couple of blogs ago, my stove with a pan full of water tipped into my tent on a lumpy camp spot – annoying as well as dangerous. So I bought a gas canister stand and now I don’t think I’ll go camping again without it. 

It cost £7, measures 12cm by 2cm when folded and weighs 25g. I got mine from alloutdoor.co.uk but they are widely available from most outdoor retailers. The stand fits both the 100 and 250 size of gas canister and provides a much more stable base for camp cooking. Using it in the snow last weekend, I also wondered if it had an additional advantage in lifting the canister off the cold ground and in doing so helping it to work more efficiently.

I hope this short review is helpful and I’ll post an update if or when, I experience the ground anchors in high winds.

Perth - Kinnoull Hill

It’s fair to say that the weather has been challenging these last few weeks with endless westerly storms blowing in which seem to have been at their worst each time over the weekends. So I’ve not been away much but my life admin and indoor tasks are at least up-to-date. However, with cheap rail tickets still on offer, my friend Graham and I did attempt a day trip to Aviemore last weekend to banish the cabin fever. We didn’t get beyond Perth. At that point, we’d already passed severe flooding across Fife with fields underwater and many rivers having broken their banks. As the train approached Perth, only the embankment on which the line had been built was above the water so looking out the windows either side it was as if we were travelling by boat rather than train. At Perth, the guard announced the train would go no further.

Luckily, I remembered pictures I’d seen online of a walk close to Perth city centre at Kinnoull Hill and it seemed a decent alternative in the circumstances. We walked through the city centre towards the River Tay and crossed it by a metal footbridge attached to the side of the rail bridge. It was a bit disconcerting as a huge Intercity train crossed at the same time and rattled the bridge. Halfway across, we stood awestruck, watching the flood waters below our feet. The Tay was not silvery today but was the colour of white tea. It had risen almost as high as the arches of the road bridge and looked terrifyingly fast. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it before.

Our walking route continued to Kinnoull Hill through pleasant suburbs. Soon we were wrapped up in the trees and following a network of trails to the top. Dotted about the woods were sculptures carved from fallen trunks – fairy house, badger, owl, red squirrel and a giant oak leaf. A steep pull had us on top as snow flurries piled through on a keen wind. 

Looking east through a veil of snow, the Tay powered its way on towards the sea. To the west, as the snow showers cleared, we could see the snow-covered flanks of Ben Chonzie.  It was too cold to linger so we made our way back down and stopped for lunch at a picnic table in the woods. We must have looked odd to any passers-by, sitting enjoying our picnic as snow flurries blew through.

We finished our walk by re-crossing the Tay, this time by the reassuringly sturdy road bridge, and returned home on the next train, crossing again the watery world around us.

Fact File

Start/finish: Train station, Perth

Public transport: Trains or buses to Perth

Route: From the train station walked down to the river Tay and crossed it via the footbridge attached to the rail bridge. Turned left upriver. At the heather garden left the river and walked up Manse Road then turned right on Hatton Road. At the top of the hill a footpath leads into the woods and a network of trails go to the top.