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.