Kinross-shire - Sleeping on the Sleeping Giant

Few natural events are as evocative as the noisy migration of geese in autumn. Seeing the geese overhead and hearing a sky full of their wild voices fills me with joy and eager anticipation for the winter season about to move in. Loch Leven, a huge inland loch near Kinross, is a great place to watch the geese as huge flocks gather here in autumn. So a short October overnighter beckoned, combining a dusk and dawn goose watch with a walk up one of my favourite wee hills - Benarty Hill. It lies along the southern shore of the loch and its profile when seen from the north has given it the other name of the Sleeping Giant.

Mid-day on the Saturday and I met my dad for an afternoon walk up the Giant. My dad is in his seventies now and prefers these small hills to the bigger Munros that we used to do. After a steep pull up from the lochside, a pleasant path meandered along the Giant's ridge. The autumn light was soft and beautiful on the hills around us and combined with light rain showers to create rainbows over the loch. 

We walked the full ridge enjoying panoramic views of Loch Leven, the Lomond Hills and the Ochil Hills to the west, and ate lunch round about the Giant's chin. 

We retraced our steps to the loch and when dad headed off home, I filled the hours until dusk wandering along the hillside trails which were wooded with golden birch. One of my earliest childhood memories is from this exact spot. We walked here as a young family and I remember feeling that the hillside was so steep, I might fall off into the loch.

As the light faded, I made my bivvy on top of Vane Hill, the east end of the ridge and essentially the Giant's feet. It was a stunning spot that afforded a great view over the loch and captured the soundscape of the noisy geese below. Through dusk, large skeins of geese came into land on the water's surface like paper aeroplanes falling out of the sky. Then a bright harvest moon rose and we all settled down to sleep.

A pre-dawn, torchlit walk down through the woods early next morning took me back to the lochside to eat breakfast and make a hot cup of coffee. 

It was a murky, misty, clagged in kind of morning but before too long large flocks of geese started to rise up. They swooped across the loch and its adjacent fields as huge black smudges on a grey sky. Their combined honking filled the morning air with sound. For about an hour after dawn, flocks continued to take off and head out into the surrounding countryside while a weak sun started to shift the mist. 

Despite light flooding the day and the noisy geese all around, the Sleeping Giant continued sleeping.

Fact File

Start/finish: RSPB Loch Leven Visitor Centre

Public transport: A couple of options, none directly to the start. Bus from Edinburgh to Kinross gives access to the Loch Leven Heritage Trail which can be followed around to the RSPB centre. Or a train to Lochgelly then use the footpath alongside the road north to Ballingry but leave it to walk into Lochore Meadows Country Park. Trails through the park link to Benarty Hill and Loch Leven from its south side.

My route: From the visitor centre took the path which heads onto the hillside and is signed for the Sleeping Giant and the walking/cycle route to Ballingry. Where it levels out at the top of the steep climb the obvious ridge of Benarty begins on the right and a faint path is just visible across the grassy slope to join it. Once on the ridge, the path westwards is obvious with the top and trig point about halfway along. We came back down the same way.

Borders - Cycling worth celebrating

The quiet roads and trails of the Borders have definitely become my quick getaway in recent years, especially since the Borders Railway opened. I can jump on the train just minutes from my front door and in less than an hour be cycling through rolling hills and pleasant Borders towns. This summer saw a couple of trips there with my friend, Graham, at either end of the season.

At the start of summer, we had a weekend of great cycling based in Jedburgh and spent the first day stringing together two short loops close to town. Of course, they were interjected with coffee and cake on the main street! Our first loop headed south out of town on a skinny back road that climbed steeply into the countryside. We turned off onto a farm track which soon became a narrow footpath overgrown with summer grasses and wild flowers. 

Before too long we popped out onto rough track again and found ourselves on Dere Street, the old Roman road. It originally ran from Hadrian's Wall to Edinburgh and still cuts a clear line for much of its way through the Borders. We pulled up to ponder the past and the thousands of footsteps that must have walked this way over the years. The afternoon air was hot and thick now and filled with the sweet song of the hedgerow yellowhammers.

Every north-south road out of Jedburgh must be steep because our second loop, to the north this time, took us up another crazy climb to join the single track routes and forest trails of Lanton Muir. But what goes up, must come down and we finished that day with a sweeping descent back into town. 

These short loops of the first day limbered us up for a longer ride out of the nearby town of Hawick. We cycled out on the Craik road and came back via a wonderful unclassified road that contoured round Chapel Hill, opening up great views. The closed gates at each end were unusual for a public road and clearly inhibited any traffic from coming along here, so we had the place to ourselves.

We made another cycle trip to the Borders, at the other end of summer. On a sticky, hot first day we simply cycled away from our front doors and headed south through Whitecraig, Dalkeith and Bonnyrigg, gradually leaving the city and its suburbs behind us. 

A stiff southerly made the climbing through the Moorfoots more difficult than it need have been and we even had to pedal hard downhill to reach Innerleithen before the cafe closed.

Back roads, forest trails and farm tracks then took us east and, with a degree of difficulty, we found a place to pitch for the night just as the light was fading. Of course, it's perfectly legal to camp wild in Scotland but nonetheless, Graham and I prefer to find a discreet spot where we think nobody will see us. We failed that night. 

As we settled at our picnic bench to make supper, vehicle headlights approached along the track that we'd pitched beside and which we'd thought would be secluded. As the vehicle pulled up beside us, I thought the local farmer was going to complain about our spot. But I was wrong. The farmer and his family had been out checking their fences and were delightful people to meet. We spent about an hour having a right good blether and putting the world to rights!

We woke next morning to tents and bikes dripping with dew, a sign of the advancing year and cooler night time temperatures. We'd only a short ride that day to pick up a train home from Tweedbank but a funny thing happened en route. In the middle of nowhere, along an empty country road, I cycled passed a perfect, unopened bottle of Prosecco, lying at the side of the road. (Prosecco, by the way, is the only alcoholic drink I like). Graham was a little way behind me so, although I thought it was odd, I didn't say anything and carried on cycling. A few miles further on, I waited for Graham to pull up alongside me and low and behold, had he not picked up the bottle of Prosecco and stashed it in his pannier!

A mad, fast-as-we-could-go last few miles of cycling saw us catch an early train home ahead of a band of heavy rain. As well as beating the wet weather, it left some time in the day to open the Prosecco and celebrate our summer cycling trips.

Fact File

More photos on Flickr - click HERE
Routes: First short loop out of Jedburgh used the Ulston road, Borders Abbeys Way and Dere Street. The loop to north climbed out of town on the Lanton road. At the top of the climb a forest track starts on the right beside a house and connects to forest paths and trails. Came out the far side of Lanton Muir and joined the Sharplaw road into town. The loop out of Hawick uses the quiet road through Wilton and then climbs on the B711. Turned left at Roberton towards Craik then turned south to use the road on the south side of Chapel Hill. For our second trip we used national cycle 1 south out of Edinburgh. Where it turned north towards Galashiels, we continued over the  Ettrick Bridge which is open for cyclists only and crossed over the A7 to Lindean, picking our way to Tweedbank rail station along the quiet roads.

Public transport: Borders Railway to Tweedbank

Information: I love the wee cafe in the little village of Lilliesleaf which is on the way back to Tweedbank. I think because it's such a surprise to find it out here but no doubt it's well used by hungry cyclists.

Edinburgh - Recipe for mid week fun

Most overnight trips are inevitably confined to weekends and holidays. But over recent months an idea had been simmering in my head to rustle up a bit of outdoor fun in the middle of the work week. If I'm working 9 to 5 then why not be outdoors 5 to 9!

The first ingredient in my recipe for mid week fun was a friend who also works in the city, is equally as daft as me and was up for a wild camp on a work night. Rob Burgess fitted the bill! 

We chose a day in late summer when the elements had cooked up a beautiful evening for getting outside. The brashness of the summer sun was on the wane, replaced by cooler air and soft, peachy rays that bathed the landscape. Tall summer grasses danced in golden light and the last of the willowherb provided a splash of colour.

Fundamental to the success of this recipe is having somewhere to go outdoors that's a quick getaway from the city but still handy enough for getting back into work the next morning for the early shift. It also needs to be relatively remote for camping. The Pentland Hills on Edinburgh's southern boundary are perfect for this being at the end of the number 44 bus route from the city centre. Once off the bus, we set out up the wooded path of Poet's Glen and within an hour found ourselves in the open hills. 

A copse of pine trees at the top of the trail provided a perfect pitch for the night. 

For a bit of extra fun, we hadn't packed our usual tents but had taken instead our bivvy bags to feel more outside and less confined. It had been years since either of us had used our bivvy bags so it was a bit of a giggle getting set up and tucked away inside. With the hood open, I could lie looking up through the pine trees at the stars. At some point during the night, the moon rose, flooding our spot with silvery light.

It was a beautiful walk next morning through the quiet stillness of dawn to catch an early 44 into the city. However, there was one downside to this recipe in that it left a nasty residue in the pan, that being the requirement to go back to the office.

Fact File

Start: Currie

Finish: Balerno

My route: Took number 44 bus to Currie, alighting at the bus stop beside the Sainsbury's garage and shop. Immediately beside the stop are steps down to the Water of Leith. Crossed the bridge, walked straight ahead through the houses to join the Water of Leith walkway. Turned right then left up the hill (signed by rights of way post). This is the route through Poet's Glen. Twice the wooded walk reaches a road, turn right and the next path will be on the left. At the top of the trail called Ranges Road, camped in the pines on the left. Next morning at the top of the trail, turned right for Harlaw then left on reaching the road for the visitor centre. Immediately before the centre there is a path on the right which joins Harlaw Road into Balerno for the 44 bus.

Ochils - Outlier

The Ochils are a range of small hills that extend eastwards from Stirling, forming the northern boundary of the flat strath of the Forth Valley and butting up against the western fringes of Fife and Kinross. I've walked and cycled there many times over the years so know them reasonably well. However, what I didn't know until recently is that they extend further than I realised, sneaking behind Fife's Lomond Hills and culminating in the little, outlying peak of Norman's Law on Fife's north coast. Being a bit of a map nerd, I became fascinated by this fact and drooled for months over the browns of the Law's tight contours and  the blues of the Tay Estuary, above which the hill is perched. Finally a warm, sunny late summer's day provided an opportunity to get to the top.

The walk started at the quiet hamlet of Luthrie and headed west on a farm road before joining a dirt track to climb up into rolling terrain and scattered copses of trees. When the path broke out onto open moorland, it really felt like being in the Highlands or at least somewhere more grand, especially with the purple heather in bloom. The route then descended into a wooded, swampy dip and passed through head-high bracken before climbing up the final, steep cone of the hill. Here house martins filled the air and swooped passed at eye level as the path gained height. 

The top seemed a long time coming for such a little peak. But there had already been great variety in the decent length approach walk, much like a big hill but on a small scale. Norman's Law is only 285m high but it's a significant viewpoint in these parts with vistas over the rolling hills and farmland of north Fife and the broad waters of the Tay. Ancient people recognised this fact as well and on the south side of the top a jumble of rocks marks the remains of their Iron Age fort. Looking south from the fort, they would also gaze over the dramatic, twin peaks of the Lomond Hills which, like Norman's Law, are extinct volcanoes. 

For a different return option, the route gingerly crossed a field of Highland cows and zig-zagged through jaggy gorse before following a delightful path along a woodland edge back towards Luthrie. Looking over my shoulder for my last view of the hill, I marvelled at how a little peak could deliver such an enjoyable walk. And I felt very pleased that I'd finally made it to the Ochil's outlier.

Fact File

Start/finish: Luthrie, north Fife

Transport: Luthrie can be accessed via quiet roads by bicycle from the National Cycle Network route number 1 route between Dundee and Newburgh.

My route: From the sharp bend on the main road through Luthrie a farm track heads west and is signed for Norman's Law. At a crossroads where the road becomes dirt track, turned right up the hill and followed this track to the wooded dip above which it passes through a gate to join another track. Opposite and slightly to the left of the gate , the hill route continues to the top as a footpath. To return, descended back to the track at the gate and turned right. When it become open field, the track is less clear in the grass but passes down to the left where there is a gorse-filled dip, crosses a gate then another, then continues as good track. At least that's how it should have gone but it wasn't that obvious. Soon there is a path junction with walking signs along a woodland edge. This comes out at the first crossroads.

Arran - Goatfell

Somehow over the outdoor years, I'd missed getting up a well-known hill that's a bit of a legend in hillwalking circles and beyond. It's Goatfell, a rugged Corbett in the north of the island of Arran. I'd admired it from afar from Bute and Cumbrae, when its rocky peaks and ridges had drifted ethereally above the Firth of Clyde on a layer of sea mist. And I had cycled on Arran itself but never lingered, always being en route to Kintyre or the boat to Islay and Jura. Mind you, I'm glad that I saved it for the weekend of a friend's 50th birthday celebrations, because I don't think there could have been a more perfect day.

The birthday group had arrived on Arran the afternoon before on the ferry from Ardrossan. The boat had crossed the deep blue waters of the Firth of Clyde, ploughing a course for Brodick, a scatter of houses along the island shore. Sitting outside on the deck, it was sunny and clear with a great view to Goatfell. But it was bracing out at sea, so jackets were pulled out from rucksacks for extra warmth. We crossed fingers that the following day would be as good. It was.

The ascent started with a walk along the beach and then a dog-leg through the woods to pick up the "tourist route" at the pretty cluster of cottages at Cladach. Cool, dappled woods gave way to heather moorland which ended at a steep, rocky pull to the top. The views were superb to the islands of Bute, Cumbrae and Little Cumbrae, drifting off the Clyde coast. The rugged Kintyre peninsula straggled along the western horizon and beyond it popped up the pimples of the Paps of Jura. The sea was topaz and the land summer green. 

Immediately in front of us was the jumbled rock architecture of Arran's other hills, North Goatfell, Cir Mhor and the A'Chir Ridge. Whilst most of the group returned by the route of ascent, my friend Graham and I set out along the Stacach Ridge to North Goatfell. This was an enjoyable, if tricky, walk. There were a couple of awkward down-scrambling sections, with long steps beyond the reach of my five feet of height, and the hands-on requirement meant that the rough granite grated your skin. 

We were glad to reach the Saddle to pick up the path for the long walk back down through Glen Rosa. The glen was green and lush at the height of summer and beautifully framed by pointy Cir Mhor.

The following day's walk, before catching the ferry home, was a lot more gentle with a pleasant amble around the Machrie Moor Stone Circles. The good weather had been replaced by low, grey cloud and spots of rain, all of which created a suitable mystical atmosphere for enjoying the ancient Stones. It's a decent walk there as well, being set quite far back from the access point. 

The stone circles and their associated burial cairns and field systems, date from Neolithic times, between 3,500 and 1,500 years ago. But it's believed the area has been in use for religious and ceremonial activities since 4,500 years ago. The site is extensive, spread across the open moor and looking across Arran's hills with the sea stretched out behind. 

After a long wander around the stones, we indulged in our own ceremony of post-walk coffee and cake before catching the ferry back.

Fact File

More photos on Flickr - click HERE.

Start/finish: Primary school in Brodick

Public transport: Train to Ardrossan connecting to ferry from Ardrossan to Brodick on Arran.

My route: The cottage we were staying in was close to the primary school and about 20 mins walk from the ferry. Opposite the school a path heads through trees to the beach and at the far, where a burn flows out, there is a bridge. Re-cross the road at Cladach and the main path up Goatfell is signed here. The path is obvious (and busy) as it climbs to the top of Goatfell. Continued north along Stacach Ridge and where it drops to the Saddle the path down through Glen Rose can be picked up. This returns to the school. 

Eastern Cairngorms - Endless days of summer

In summer in Scotland the days seem to go on forever and around the longest day in late June, it never seems to quite get dark. These kinds of days beg you to have big outings in the summer hills, when you can walk for miles, pitch the tent high and sit outside until late at night. For this year’s weekend of longest days, I did just that in the eastern Cairngorms with my friend, Graham. At the far east of the Cairngorms massif, is the only Munro of the range that I hadn’t climbed – Ben Avon. Combining it with its neighbouring Munro, Beinn a’Bhuird, on a big circuit north of Braemar, would make good use of these long, summer days. 

We started with a short bus ride. There are two great things about the bus that trundles back and forth between Braemar and Ballater. The first is that the bus stop is right beside the best cup of coffee in town which you can easily fit into the timetable. The second is that it drops you right at the start of the walk into Ben Avon! Once off the bus, we shouldered three-day packs and walked west through avenues of tall trees within the grand surroundings of Invercauld Estate. Before too long, the formal grounds gave way to a wilder landscape of pines and heather. 

We made a long trek north, at first within the tight, rocky confines of Gleann an t-Slugain, then latterly through the wide glen below the scalloped edges of Beinn a’Bhuird. A stiff pull took us up to The Sneck, a rocky bealach between the two peaks. With a moderate wind blowing through, we dropped back down a little to pitch the tents in the high coire, below lingering snow patches.

These long days of light gave us the opportunity to climb the final section of Ben Avon that evening. We had the place to ourselves as the light mellowed and we walked across the moonscape plateau. We could see over this whole giant lump of a mountain and dotted all over it were Ben Avon’s characteristic granite tors, giant stacks of rock standing proud of the surrounding land. The highest of these was the summit proper. We walked there and a final, wee clamber took us up among the rocks to gaze out over this bizarre landscape. 

The next day was just one of those long, perfect, summer days in the hills. Sunny, blue skies prevailed and the views were clear and extensive. From The Sneck we hauled ourselves up onto Beinn a Bhuird’s vast plateau to marvel at the sheer size of the place and its absolute emptiness, save for the odd mountain hare that we put up. There was an incredible sense of space here and we felt like the only people in the world as we trekked across the high ground. At one point, the plateau was cut by running water. A mountain spring started somewhere to our right and its little outflow stream meandered across our route, sparkling in the sunshine and tinkling gently. We lingered here a while, sipping the cold, clear water.

As we walked on, we eventually reached the edge of the plateau as we picked our way along the top of Beinn a’Bhuird’s cliffs, gouged out by glaciers into gaping coires below our feet. At some point in this big, flat place we walked to whatever point claims to be the top and marvelled over the views to the rest of the Cairngorms, stretched out to our west. Ben MacDui dominated this view, unmistakable by its bulk and extensive snow patches. 

We pulled ourselves away from the views to begin our long walk down and out, leaving behind the open spaces to become enclosed in the dappled pinewoods of Glen Quoich. Here there seemed to be a stonechat on top of every small tree along the trail so that the evening air was filled with their characteristic call. It sounds like two pebbles being gently knocked together. We walked well into the evening and pitched our tents for a second night out close to what’s known as the Punchbowl, a round hole in the riverside rock carved out over millenia by the pounding water. 

On the final morning, as we walked back to Braemar through the woods, the sense of summer days was diminished as drizzly rain and thick mist doused the world around us.

Fact File

More photos on Flickr - click HERE.

Start: Invercauld Bridge

Finish: Braemar

Public transport: Braemar to Ballater Stagecoach bus stops at the start - ask for the stop for Keiloch.

Route: Followed signed tracks for The Slugain, west through the estate, then forking right after Altdourie. The path passed through Gleann an t-Slugain and a little after the final steep pull out of the glen, there was a righthand fork which continued north below Beinn a'Bhuird and then climbed up past the stone called Clach a'Chleirich to the Sneck. Path split here, climbing steeply on the east for Ben Avon and on the west side for Beinn a'Bhuird. In clear weather the top of Ben Avon was obvious, though the path is sketchy given the terrain. Once up on Beinn a'Bhuird we headed west to the north top and followed the rim of the corries south, picking up the descent path west of Coire an Dubh-Lochain. The path made a long descent into Glen Quoich and eventually crossed the river (no bridge). We continued on the track to the Punchbowl and then took another track that contours west round the hillside above the road. This jojned the road opposite a track that passes through Mar Lodge Estate to Victoria Bridge, the only place to cross the River Dee. We joined the (quiet) road to walk east for just under 2km towards Braemar then picked a forest track which connects to the signed paths in Morrone Birkwood. This provided a lovely walk back to Braemar, especially in the murky weather.

Info: Great coffee in Braemar at Taste cafe which is right next the bus terminus.

Torridon - The Tea House

The camp stove sparked into life with its reassuring roar, drowning out the noise of rain splattering on the window. Beyond the glass the river, swollen by two days of torrential Torridonian rain, was an avalanche of peaty water. It barrelled its way through the gorge with a menacing roar. In contrast, the Scots pine and birch trees that crammed the place were quiet and still with barely a shiver in their branches. Through late afternoon and into evening, the low-lying mist would occasionally clear a little, opening up a brief tantalising view of the rocky peaks above, before closing in again. This was my world as I passed the remainder of the day and the night in this place. Officially called the Easan Dorcha Bothy, it’s more affectionately known as the Tea House.

A few days before my overnight stay in the Tea House, I’d jumped off the Kyle train at Achnashellach and walked through to Glen Torridon. Heavy bursts of rain had cleared to a glorious evening of golden sunshine as I trekked up into Coire Lair. The tent was pitched on a high shelf backed by the jagged rock giant of Liathach. If I drank my evening cup of tea on a rock a few metres away from the tent, I had a view to a sea shimmering silver in the late light.

The next morning provided a personal record for me, being the latest date into summer (28 May) that I’ve walked in falling snow. It dusted the summer tops in white. However, it was quickly banished by a warming sun that provided two hot days of clear blue skies. I wandered the beautiful coastal woodland trails along the south shore of Upper Loch Torridon which provided that heady mix of mountain and sea. That night, a grassy promontory on the loch shore provided a stunning camp spot with a panorama of peaks.

And I climbed up Beinn Damh, a Corbett on the south side of the glen. The path rose steeply through scented pines before breaking out on top.  The views from here were astounding to the Torridon hills and the scalloped coastline. Across a sapphire sea, an undulating line on the western horizon marked the Outer Hebrides. Thereafter the clouds moved in and the only reward the next day for a stiff pull up Beinn Alligin was the ubiquitous rucksack-at-a-misty-cairn photo.

When the rain set in for the rest of my trip, I walked through the hill passes and woods to the Tea House. It’s a gorgeous wee bothy in a delightful, hidden spot. About the size of a large garden shed, it’s clad in cedar on the outside and has a lovely wood panelled interior which gives the place a nice homely feel. There’s a small table and a long bench where I laid out my mat and sleeping bag for the night. Visitor books going back to 2010 are lined up on a shelf beside the door. An older one had a lovely pencil drawing of the Tea House. A window on each side affords a view up and down the gorge, which I enjoyed sipping endless cups of tea until bed time. 

It was one of the loveliest places that I've spent a night. Though perhaps it wasn't the comfiest, as the bench was a bit narrow. I lingered a while the next morning, running my eye over the place one last time, before I continued through the hills to Achnashellach to catch a train home. 

Fact File

More photos on Flickr - click HERE
Start/finish: Achnashellach

Public transport: Inverness/Kyle of Lochalsh train stops at Achnashellach

My route: At the end of the platform, crossed the train line at the level crossing and continued on a forest track. At the first track junction turned left. A little further on, the footpath was marked where it left the track. Took this footpath north through Coire Lair and followed it through Bealach Ban and Bealach na Lice then continued on the path north to Annat. Picked up the coastal walk behind the Torridon Hotel and followed it west, finding a camp spot on the way back. The path up Beinn Damh is signed from this path close to the hotel. Walked on the road from the hotel to Torridon village and along the single track road that continues west along the north shore of Upper Loch Torridon. The road crosses a gorge with waterfalls beside a car park. On the west side of the bridge here the path begins for Beinn Alligin. From the village I then walked east along the glen road which was pretty quiet to Loch Clair. After the loch, the track begins south for the Coulin Pass. A couple of kms after the last cottages the track crosses a stone bridge. For the bothy, didn't cross the bridge but followed the track west and the bothy is just over a km further on. For the return to Achnashellach, I crossed the bridge and walked over the Coulin Pass, the track returning to the station.