Wednesday 3 June - Cook's Cairn & Corryhabbie Hill

 Cooks Cairn (NJ 302 278; 755m) and Corryhabbie Hill (781m)

Start Point: Allenreid car park, at the end of the minor public road running SE from Tomnavoulin

Distance and Ascent: Bike: 10.9km, 110m; Foot: 13.1km, 710m

Weather: Overcast but dry for the outward bike leg and the first 11k of the walk, then light rain the rest of the way.

 

Last night we'd taken a walk out to take a look at the quality of the track that runs S of Achdregnie, as the more obvious track that goes via Achdregnie runs between buildings, and thus may not be an acceptable route under SOAC. The riverside track was grassy, but looked firm enough (something I should have looked at when I'd already walked past it earlier in the day), so that's the way I went. It turned out that after a few yards of smooth grass, it was horribly lumpy. On the plus side, the ground was firm, but it wasn't happy riding, nor, for me, was it easy. Throw in a few gates and I was starting to regret not just going on foot. 

The track remained largely grassy, with some rough stony sections, even once I joined the two-dashed-lines track that came from the farm at Achdregnie, and I was further slowed by having to shoulder my bike to carry it up the steps of a bridge, to avoid a mid-calf ford. I'm hoping my back soon forgives me for that, as it's very unhappy about it as I type this!

Eventually, at a fence 5.5km into my ride, and with the track beyond being two lines through heather, I abandoned the bike. It had taken me 56 minutes to get that far, which is approximately the same speed I would have achieved on foot. Worse, I knew that I yet needed to tackle the same ground in the other direction. That, however, was an issue for later, and I was soon striding out towards the abandoned, decaying buildings at Suie. 

Beyond those buildings, the track became a modern engineered one, and the going up to the bealach between Carn na Bruar and my objective of Cook's Cairn, was easy. To my surprise, a finger post pointed from that main track, up the line of an ATV track, to my first summit and even though it became less distinct the higher I got, the going was still easy, on firm ground with short vegetation.

As you'll see from my map snippet above, I just dropped straight down the W side of the hill, which was mainly lovely springy terrain, with only the final section being deeper, woody heather. 

Theoretically, I was on track now for the whole of the rest of the way, but when I got to the final switchback on my way up Corryhabbie Hill, I couldn't see the point of going the extra distance on the track when I could just deadhead to the top. 

It was a unique (in my experience at least) trig marking the top, with it wearing a big metal (iron?) hat.

My plan (formed without seeing the lie of the land) was to retrace my steps down the track to the glen path, but on my way up I'd decided it looked perfectly feasible to take a much more direct line, so that's what I did, and only at the very bottom did the terrain get a bit tricky. Popping out onto the track, it was then just a fast walk the final 3.5km(ish) back to the bike, pausing only to dig my rain skirt out of my pack when a shower hit (it then rained on me the whole way back). I have to say, I must have looked a sight - on my way out on the bike, I'd paused at the ford to the S of Suie and put my knee-length waterproof socks on (which are quite brilliant, by the way), then I'd kept them on the rest of the way. The combination of leggings with knee high socks over the top was already a bold fashion choice before I donned the rain skirt (which is also quite brilliant, but looks like I'm wearing a black bin bag). 

I nearly met a chap as I got to the convergence of paths by Suie, but with the rain coming down quite decidedly at the time I wasn't going to wait for him to get there, and figured he would catch me up when I was faffing with the bike anyway. I didn't look back until I got to the bike, and he was nowhere within sight. 

Back on the bike, I was expecting another hard ride, but what I'd failed to notice on the way out was that the amount of uphill I was doing - it had seemed pretty flat at the time, with the hardness just coming from the terrain. To my surprise, the return was pretty easy (even if still rough, with the the final section still being horribly bumpy), I was able to negotiate most of the gates without having to dismount, and because I had the tall waterproof socks on, there was no imperative to carry the bike up onto the pedestrian bridge, instead opting to push it through the ford. I got back in exactly half the time of the outward leg. 

With the outward bike leg now a distant memory, it was a good fun outing.

Blogger has decided we're having photos in reverse order again today: 

Pity about the windfarm

Otherwise, it's just such a fantastic landscape

Why the hat?!

Looking from Cook's Cairn over to Corryhabbie Hill

On the ride in (this was one of the better bits of track)

Remote abandoned house

Highly unusual to have a fingerpost pointing towards a summit

Big abandoned house not far up the glen from the one in the photo two above. Beyond this was another single story building, with the roof partially collapsed. 
 

 

Tuesday 2 June - The Bochel (NJ 23251 23248, 491m)

Start Point: Tombrae car park (NJ 218 257)

Distance and Ascent: 9.1km, 290m

Weather: dry for the first half an hour, then rain

Last night the weather forecast for today was a high percentage chance of continuous heavy rain. By this morning, it was showing light rain until 11am, a couple of hours of medium probability heavy rain, then greater than 95% chance of heavy rain for the rest of the day. Based on that, I figured the earlier I set out for this one, the better. 

It stayed dry for most of our drive to Glen Livet, and whilst we breakfasted on arrival in Tombrae car park. It then stayed dry for the first half an hour that I was out, during which time I walked the first 2.5km of 'Route 10', a waymarked route that goes around The Bochel, but for me was going to give me an easy route to walk in to the hill. 

To avoid the buildings at Tullich, the route crosses Crombie Water and goes along a fence line on the SW side. There's a trodden line, but it's obviously not hugely frequented, and as it's through non-cropped grass, it was rather soggy today. My mind already turned to the thought of returning a different way and thus, when I got to the point where I knew (from an info sign in the car park) that Route 10 met Route 3, I dropped a note to Mick to ask him to send me a photo of the info sign, so I could see exactly where Route 3 went. First, though, I had a hill to climb, so I veered away from both of those routes and set about the 150m climb to the summit.

The top of the hill had been in cloud for the whole of my approach, and the heaviest rain fell whilst I was on the top, so it was a surprise, just as I left the summit, when there was a sudden brightening of the sky and a glimpse of view opened up on both sides. I mean 'glimpse'. I tried to take a couple of photos, but by the second one the cloud had closed back in. 

The cows with calves in a field I needed to go through at Glack were a minor concern, but they ignored me, unlike the sheep in the next field that bleated at quite some volume. Even though the route wasn't particularly evident on the ground, it was easy enough to spot the pedestrian gates, and they led me to the access track to Glack, which in turn took me to a footbridge, then the road.

Walking the road back may not seem the most pleasing choice, but aside from it being the quick option in the miserable weather, I wanted to see how feasible it would be to drive Bertie up to the car park at the road end, and whether there was a phone signal there. If I'd wanted to take the chance on the former point (having already established that there was a better phone signal than at Tombrae), I could have messaged Mick to drive up to meet me, but instead I walked the 2.5km down the road, only to then almost immediately drive back up again - positioning for the hills I intend to do tomorrow. 

The forecast is better for tomorrow, but in reality it hasn't been that bad today. It's raining as I type this at 4pm, but until about half an hour ago, there had only been a few relatively short showers since I finished my outing. Annoyingly, despite the rain whilst I was out, the cloud had cleared off the summit by the time I reached the road and it hasn't come back down since.   

My objective, hiding behind cloud

Cloudy summit selfie. 

Unexpected glimpse of a view

Taken seventeen minutes after I left the summit cairn, and there's not a hint of cloud on the top. I should have spent longer over breakfast!
 

Monday 1 June - Tap o'Noth and The Buck

Tap o'Noth (NJ 48408 29321; 564m)

Start Point: car park to the S 

Distance and Ascent: 4.9km, 300m

Weather: low cloud and showers

 

I had this hill in my mind as a popular one, and with its own dedicated car park and information signs, that notion seemed to be borne out. However, with rain coming down as we had breakfast and got ourselves ready to go out, I wouldn’t have been surprised if we’d had the hill to ourselves, but before we managed to pull ourselves together, another car arrived. A chap and his young daughter got out and started up the hill, and ten or fifteen minutes later, we followed suit.

There’s a well-trodden, but not horribly eroded, path that leads you up to ‘the second highest hill fort in Scotland’, which made the going fast and easy. Alas, we weren’t to enjoy the hill fort, which is undoubtedly an excellent viewpoint, in its full glory, as we had entered the cloud around half way up and that cloud stayed stubbornly down.

I wandered around the remains of the fort, to make sure I definitely hit the highest point, then downwards we went. It rained on us to varying degrees the whole way down, so there was no tarrying and we were back at Bertie a matter of seconds over an hour after leaving.

I would say that almost all of the summits I’ve visited in the last week had merit, and it would have been a shame to have missed the view on any of them, but I think this one probably deserved clear conditions more than most. If I should ever find myself passing on a fine day, I would happily nip up it again.

As we drove off towards The Buck, we found a barrier part way across the A road with a ‘Road Closed’ sign facing the other way, making me glad to have driven to the Tap o’Noth car park immediately on getting up, rather than after breakfast, thus beating the road closure being put in place. I was also glad that the patching-up work must have been on the section of road we’d already driven, and thus we weren’t sent on a diversion to get to the next hill either. 

The Buck (NJ 41219 23386; 721m) 

Start Point: A pull-in on the B9002 at NJ 42031 25469 that was just wide enough to get Bertie-the-Motorhome fully off the road.

Distance and Ascent: 4.7km, 300m

Weather: some light rain and stubbornly low cloud. 

Once again, rain was coming down as we had tea and a buttery before I headed out for this hill – on my own this time as Mick had declined to join me. A good decision, as only the summit of this one would have met his ‘must have merit’ requirements, and the summit was, once again, stubbornly in the cloud.

The stats for today’s two hills, were almost identical (same ascent, with this one just 200m further), but this one was harder and slower work, being a boggy trod through peat and heather.

Having not read in advance what the summit feature was, it was a surprise to have a shapely tor suddenly appear out of the mist ahead of me. I made my way up it gingerly, having already slipped on wet rock enough times today, and made do with sitting, rather than standing, on the very highest point.

A quick descent, a small amount of faffing in Bertie, then as we drove away we saw that the summit was now completely clear of cloud. Darn it! I wasn’t short of time today and if the forecast had suggested there was any possibility of the rain stopping and the cloud lifting, I would have waited around for it. 

Tap o'Noth photos in reverse order: 

The actual summit

Trig, but not summit

Walking into the cloud, not much higher than the car park

The Buck photos, also in reverse order: 

The nature of the trodden line up the boundary line

Sitting on the highest point, with a view of the trig and little else

The summit tor looming out of the gloom ahead of me.
 

Sunday 31 May - Lord Arthur's Hill (NJ 513 198; 518m)

Start Point: I got dropped off and picked up at the end of the access road to Littlewood Park, saving me a walk along the main road from the layby to the SE.

Distance and Ascent: 4.7km, 340m

Weather: Sunny intervals

 

Parking in the layby (of which I didn't note the exact position) a distance away from the access road to Littlewood Park, I looked at the speed of the passing vehicles and considered how unpleasant the walk along the road would be, when it occurred to me that Mick could easily drop me off at the entrance, return to the layby, then pick me up again when I was done. So, I set out from the gate lodge and headed up the tarmac access road to Littlewood Park.

It was careless that I didn't take a photo of the house, which is both huge and grand. I was probably too busy considering my onward route, which I soon came to realise was going to pass rather closer to one of the estate houses than I would like. It felt as if I was heading into their garden, and perhaps not acting entirely in accordance with the Scottish Outdoor Access Code, and I was made more uncomfortable when I got to the modern kennels (having already passed empty old kennels) and set the dogs barking - a racket that they continued until I was out of sight, some time later.

The kennels is where I turned off the engineered track to take to an ATV track that led me, rather conveniently, right to the top of this hill.  

It was another fine viewpoint that I enjoyed for a short while before retracing my steps to the second field boundary (a fence line - I'd passed through a gap in a stone wall further up). From there I decided that rather than continuing down to the estate track and setting the dogs barking again, I would cut off a bit of a corner and head straight down the hillside. The heather was old and tall, but in descent it was easy enough (going up that way would have been awful). Lower down, when I entered the band of trees, it was young, unfurling bracken with last year's dead bracken wanting to trip me. 

It was then but a hop and a skip back down to the road from where, within two minutes, Mick came and scooped me up.  

 

 

Sunday 31 May - Coiliochbhar Hill (NJ 503 163; 533m)

Coiliochbhar Hill 

Start Point: End of track, at NJ 50954 12952

Distance and Ascent: 9km, 170m

Weather: Sunny intervals until just over 2km from end, from where there was an incredible downpour

 

I'd given serious consideration to tackling this hill from the NW, examining aerial photos at some length until I was pretty sure the route would work. Then I decided that it wasn't really a detour to drive to the south side and use the same route as most people with logs on hill-bagging. 

It was raining as I was getting ready to go, so I made the questionable decision of donning full Paramo. I knew I would likely be too warm (it was 14 degrees and forecast to get warmer), but I figured waterproof overtrousers would also be too warm, and at least Paramo is comfortable and easily vented. I regretted the choice on my way up, with no expectation as to how much I would be grateful for it on the way down. 

If you look at the map snippet above, you may see that there's a little out-and-back spur north of Upper Minmore. Had I looked at my notes on this hill, I wouldn't have made that error, but instead I relied on my memory that told me that there was a new track, but I forgot the bit that told me that I needed to turn off it, over a green drain, to head up a forest break. The issue was compounded by the fact that the map shows the route through the forest break to be a track (which it no doubt once was), and the brand new track, which isn't on the map, slowly diverges from it. It was only when I realised that my track was determinedly heading downhill that I thought something was amiss. That's a lot of words for a 3-minutes-each-way detour!

Backtracking, the green drain and fire break I was supposed to be looking for were plain to see, and up through the forest I went. Out of the top of the trees, the views were superb and I was thinking that Mick would have enjoyed this hill (and maybe, if he'd been with me, I would have paid a bit more attention to not going awry ... or maybe not). 

There was just one more section of trees between there and the summit, which in one of the winter storms of recent years (late 2023, most likely) had suffered a lot of blow-downs. Fortunately, someone has since been through with a chainsaw, so even where the trodden line wasn't immediately obvious on the ground, I just needed to look for the gaps through fallen trunks. I soon popped out the other side of the trees and picked up a path then an ATV track to the summit. 

To my surprise, I heard voices as I was loitering up there, and four people appeared from the west. They were doing a linear route with a car at each end, which was an excellent plan - in fact, I'd already thought before I met them that I should have asked Mick to meet me on the N side of the hill, so I could descend via the alternative route I'd identified from Brux. As it was, a retracing of steps was on the cards for me.

From the summit I'd seen a big lump of rain off to the west, but by the time I was back at the trees I was 50/50 as to whether it was heading for me or was going to skirt. The answer was the former, and as I made my way down the forest break, it started coming down. It didn't become remarkable until I was back on the forest track, when it became comedy rain, so hard that I thought for a moment that it was hailing. That it was coming straight down wasn't good either, as with the lack of wind, it wasn't going to blow through, and it continued coming down with seldom-seen ferocity the whole of the rest of the way. The forest track was soon two gushing streams separated by a central strip, and I received a message from Mick saying "That's a bit heavy..." in case I'd not noticed!

At least I didn't have dreadfully far to go before I could get into a dry place and into some dry clothes, but in the meantime I was glad indeed that I had opted for the full Paramo outfit.  

 

The point where I needed to leave the new track had been so accurately described by a previous logger (Gill) on hill-bagging.co.uk that it was ridiculous that I hadn't remembered the detail (to quote Gill: "you see a green drain to the R with a short stony track over it to a small stony area at the start of the old track up the wide firebreak")

Below: the old track up the firebreak is just a trod now

The patch of woodland before the summit, with lots of blow-downs, but now with a route through restored.

Summit selfie. 

Friday 29 May: Morven (NJ 376 040; 872m)

Start Point: Black Bull Byre Motorhome Aire (Blelack Farm)

Distance and Ascent: 13.75km, 750m

Weather: fine, but windy with quite some windchill higher up

 

I was contemplating the dual questions of where to park for this hill, and where we were going to spend the night, when I found that there’s a 2-motorhome Aire at Black Bull Byre (Blelack Farm). It added 4km each way onto the route, but that wasn’t a problem, especially as it meant that there was no reason that Mick couldn't come with me.

That 4km walk-in would have been very easily cyclable, if we had two bikes, but it was a perfectly pleasant walk. We’re doing well this week for coming across forests that are far nicer than expected when I see a conifer plantation marked on the map – this one was again widely spaced old trees, this time with heather covering the ground.

There was just one car in the parking area opposite the track that leads to the open hillside, and we hadn’t gone very far along the track before we spotted its occupants. We were quite a distance away, but even so, one of the party looked like they were lacking enthusiasm. We retained that impression as we passed them a while later, and if I had to guess I would say that this hill was his idea and he’d talked her into joining him against her better judgment.

Having chosen to take the shortest ascent route, we encountered some steep sections where the erosion has made the going into ‘plates of ball-bearings’, which is bad enough in ascent, but would be particularly testing in descent. If we’d stuck to that path on the way down, I would have been surprised indeed if we’d both managed to stay on our feet the whole way down. But first, we had to get to the top, via (I think) three false summits, none of which surprised me, as I was keeping my eye on the map and I had an altimeter on my wrist, however, I imagine if you were climbing this hill somewhat unwillingly, you’d probably resent at least a couple of them.

The wind forecast was 30-40mph, and that felt about right as we got to the upper reaches and the summit. We made good use of the wind shelter that (nearly) encircles the trig point to don some extra layers and have a snack, with one eye on the heavy rain that seemed to be rapidly approaching from the west. (Incidentally, MWIS said that the temperature at 900m would be 7-10 degrees in the Cairngorms, but with a windchill on the higher tops making it feel like -7. It certainly felt like it was somewhere around or just under zero on this 870m summit.)

After summit snaps at the nearby cairn, steps were initially retraced, until a cairned fork in the path, where we veered  off to take the long way down. A good choice, not only to avoid the plates of ball-bearings, but because in many places it was a really nice path. I suspect that if we’d gone up that way, even with the extra distance, it wouldn’t have taken any longer than going the short route. By the time we got back down to the abandoned farmhouse just before the road, my hands were finally warm again and I was able to shed a layer – the difference in temperature between 200m and 870m was definitely greater than normal today.

Had someone offered us a lift back along the minor road, to the A97, we would have been tempted to take them up on it, but we put a bit of a pace on and were back at Bertie at a time that could still be classed as ‘lunch time’, although in retrospect, packing some sandwiches would have been welcome (a flask of coffee for the summit would have been even more welcome…). 

the building at Balhennie has seen better days (you may need to click on the image to see all the huge cracks on the front elevation)

Trig point selfie with a big lump of rain behind us

The summit is a nearby cairn

Our nice descent path, after the steep and eroded ascent route.
 

Wednesday 27 May - Pressendye Circuit

Pressendye (NJ 490 089; 619m)

Start Point: Tarland Camping & Caravanning Club Site

Distance and Ascent: 16km, 570m

Weather: Sunny. A bit cool first thing, but pleasantly warm for most of the outing. 

 

My first thought for this hill was to approach it from the same start point as I'd used for Craiglich yesterday afternoon, using forest tracks on the SE side. Then I read that there's a waymarked circuit from Tarland and when I found that there was a C&CC campsite just a few minutes' walk outside of the village, it was an easy decision to spend two nights there, with Mick joining me for the circuit over Pressendye and the neighbouring lump on the ridge, Broom Hill. 

Checking out public routes on OS digital mapping, I found one uploaded by Country Walking Magazine, which seemed like a good bet to me*. As it turned out, we were consistently 25m adrift from their plotted line the whole way around. Not a problem, but curious as to how they managed that (I was picturing that they'd recorded individual waypoints on an old Garmin handheld gpx device in the mid-1990s). 

Anyhoo, we took the route in an anticlockwise direction and it was all rather pleasant. Of particular note, there's a plethora of paths, tracks and bike trails in this area, making it seem that either the local council or some other body has made a real effort to attract people. Not only was our route well waymarked (a rarity on a hill walk in the UK!) but it featured a good handful of benches and picnic benches. We detoured to one for second breakfast, before soon passing a couple of picnic benches (although our bench had a view; the picnic benches were sheltered within the forest). 

From the map it appears that views to the south, from Pressendye to Broom Hill and beyond, would be absent, due to the forest, but in reality the trees that remain are far enough down the hillside not to be in the way. When we turned to cut down through that forest we were again pleasantly surprised. My expectation when seeing a conifer plantation marked on the map is that it will be a dense, commercial one, so it's always pleasing to find widely spaced mature trees with a blanket of lush green grass, which is exactly what we found here. 

The last few kilometres of the route are along a minor road, and it was just before we reached the tarmac that we passed a couple setting out on the circuit in the opposite direction. Other than having spied one biker a distance away on one of the mountain bike trails earlier, they were the only people we saw until we were practically back in the centre of the village. 

You may see an odd little spur with a circle on the end on our route, just before Tarland - that's where we saw a mown strip across a field and decided to see if we could use it to shortcut back to the campsite - which, as evidenced by the recorded gpx line, we couldn't. 

Photos in reverse order: 

Such an unexpectedly nice section of forest

Obligatory summit selfie

I think I saw five different benches/picnic tables on this route (I'm counting this as one, not two!)

Second breakfast at King's View. Mick is hoping you will notice the lack of a cup of coffee in his hand, as someone forgot to pack the small flask for this trip, and that someone also didn't think to pick up a new one in Montrose. (For the avoidance of doubt: I'm the 'someone' here; I'm not telling tales on Mick!). 

The views were hazy, but we could make out Mount Keen, Lochnagar and Morven from here.

Pressendye on the right, Broom Hill on the left

A lovely path through an avenue of trees on the outskirts of Tarland, not shown on the 1:50k map and not particularly obvious on the 1:25k either, so if I hadn't downloaded a route, I wouldn't have known to come this way. 
 

(*When I went to the OS digital mapping website, it only made obvious one route from Tarland, which was the one uploaded by Country Walking Magazine. When I just went to look at a detail using the OS digital mapping App on my phone, it showed me absolutely loads of routes and I had to search around for the Country Walking one. I now realise that the web version of the App defaults to 'Recommended' rather than 'All Routes'. No doubt, if I'd noticed that feature and chosen one of the others at random, it would have been more accurate and less 'straight-liney'.) 

   

Wednesday 26 May - Benaquhallie & Craiglich

Benaquhallie (NJ 606 086; 494m)

Start Point: I got dropped off at the S end of the minor road to Upper Broomhill. There was nowhere to park a large vehicle there (other than blocking the pull-in for the communal bin area; rather than doing that, Mick backtracked to Tornaveen Community Hall to wait), but it would have been feasible to park in the entrance to a timber yard that was on the west side of the road, somewhere around the access track to Lower Broomhill. 

Distance and Ascent:  6.5km, 270m

Weather: largely overcast but pleasantly warm

I would have cycled to this hill from the Back of Hill of Fare Car Park, but Mick was happy to drive me, even if he had to then backtrack to find somewhere to park, and as I have a bit of a cold at the moment, I wasn't going to insist on the extra exertion. I drew the line at him driving me up the tiny lane though, giving me an easy 2km walk-in, before I really started up the hill.

Approaching the end of the public road, I could see a vehicle on the track to Upper Broomhill, and getting closer it turned out to be two estate vehicles, with the drivers, both dressed head-to-toe in khaki, staring through binoculars at something on the hillside. I popped my head around to their side of the vehicles to check that I wasn't going to be disturbing their activities, and was relieved when they said not. 

The single-dotted-line route that leads from Upper Broomhill is a good, grassy track that doesn't pass particularly close to any occupied building, instead passing in front of an old ruin, before skirting behind the buildings. I'd not gone awfully far along that track before I gave contemplation to just heading straight up the hillside. My map told me it would be a 700m yomp (gaining around 150m of ascent), and it didn't look like the going would be too bad. And maybe if I'd ascended that way I would have found a good, not-too-heathery line, but I certainly didn't find it on the way down!

My decision for the ascent, however, was to continue along the track, to its high point between Benaquhallie and Red Hill, from where I understood that I could pick up another track that would lead me to the summit. I didn't go that far in the end, as when I saw what looked like a grown-over vehicle track, followed by some mown heather, I veered off, and despite a distance of deep, old heather, it worked out well. 

For my descent, I headed over to the huge cairn (which, on my approach to the hill, I'd incorrectly assumed marked the summit), and from there I took a bearing to the waypoint I'd noted as the start of the likely looking ascent route. It was fine (by my standards) in descent, but I would not have particularly enjoyed ascending that way. The electric fence that lay in my way (I didn't check whether it was electrified, but I doubt it) was easily step-overable, even with my little legs. 

To my surprise, when I got back to the road end, there was a full-size coach sitting there. I wonder why - it seemed such an unlikely place to be dropping off or picking up passengers. 

A trot back down the road, and I only had a minute to wait before Mick hove into view to scoop me up on my way to:

Craiglich (NJ 533 054; 476m)

Start Point: large laybys on B road to N, one directly opposite the access track, one a very short distance SW along the road (I started from the latter, purely because it was in our direction of travel).

Distance and Ascent: 4.8km, 190m

Weather: Sunny intervals and warm

 

Looking at the map, you'd think that you could easily cycle right up to the summit of this one, but I'd read reports of a track overgrown to the point of being a narrow footpath. I'd not paid enough attention to what was being said, or somehow just assumed, that it was the spur to the summit that was overgrown. I was wrong!

 

The initial track around an open field wasn't overly well defined on the ground (and today the cattle were absent), but once I got through the gate into the forest (I say 'through' but 'over' was the only real option), I was immediately met by a track that has clearly not seen any vehicles for many years, thus it was even more overgrown than I had envisaged, although someone had been through recently and lopped the lower limbs off the small conifers and gorse bushes that littered the track.  

 

Despite being a bit scratchy on the lower legs (yep, I still refuse to learn the lesson about wearing cropped leggings), it was easy enough, and to my surprise the spur up to the summit was much clearer than the main track. 

 

The summit was a pleasing one with a large cairn, a trig point and a lone deciduous tree. It was also such a good viewpoint that it was a shame that Mick hadn't come with me.

 

Down was a retracing of steps, at least until I got out of the forest, where I took a straight line back to the gate out onto the road, rather than following the track.  

 

 Photos organised by hill but otherwise in random order:

Lovely grassy old track up around Benaquhallie

Benaquhallie summit selfie

Start of Benaquhallie track, beside the ruin at Upper Broomhill

Approaching the top of Craiglich (it's come out rather dark)

 

The track was relatively clear for the first few paces 

More overgrown

Even more overgrown (I'm not sure whether it's visible on the snap, but there was a clear line through)