Thurs 22 October - Badandua Hill

Start Point: Slochnacraig in Glen Shee (much closer start points are available - I tagged this onto the end of a route recce on behalf of TGO Challenge East)

Finish Point: Parking area on B951, within 1.5km S of Little Forter (nearer finish points are also available)

Distance and Ascent: 20km, 750m

Weather: dry and bright

 

Having already been up Ben Gulabin in the morning, then walked in to Glen Isla from Glen Shee, via Loch Beanie, by the time I'd explored the signed path around the buildings at Fergus (why do they send you around three sides of a rectangle, rather than just straight up the fourth side, which would avoid two burn crossings? If I hadn't been specifically checking this out for a TGOC E route, I would have taken the obvious, not the signed, route), I was feeling sufficiently tired that I wasn't sure I fancied the extra 5km to go up Badandua Hill, versus just walking out along the river. 

 

With the the weather for the morrow being miserably wet again, I contemplated: 5km now, or 14k in the rain tomorrow? An obvious answer, you'd think, but I still wasn't wild about the extra 5km. Then I found myself semi-thwarted by the second burn crossing in taking the detour around Fergus (it had rained a lot over the previous two days), I looked up the W side of the hill and it looked eminently doable to me and such a direct approach would cut around 4km off the rest of my route.

 

Aside from the obvious steepness, it was a straightforward ascent, with good firm grass next to a trickle of a burn, that cut a line through the heather. Even further up, once I'd reached the end of the grassy break, the heather wasn't too bad. I don't think it was massively faster than going the long way around, but rather than striding along a path fixated on how much further I had to go, the steepness of the slope distracted me nicely from the question of time or distance. 

 

Having been nicely warm most of the day, despite areas of ice on the ground that persisted into the afternoon, and having overheated on the steep ascent, once I got to the top, and into the wind, it was immediately freezing and not a place to linger for long. Getting down was remarkably faster than getting up had been - 4km on good track, followed by 2km on road, with gravity helping me the whole way.  

 

I ended up particularly happy that I'd made the effort to tag this onto the end of my recce, as when the forecast for Friday improved, it freed me up to go and do another recce, albeit at the cost that I didn't have time to nip up Monamenach, which is now a bit of an outlying unbagged hill for me.  

See the obvious green line through the heather? That was my ascent route until it veered off in an unhelpful direction.  

 

Summit selfie. Cold, but what fine weather. 

Looking up upper Glen Isla

 
 

Thurs 22 October - Ben Gulabin (NO 10041 72206; 806m)

Start Point: verge parking by track end on A93, where it's possible to stop without falling foul of the 'no parking' sign in the gateway.

Distance and ascent: 5.5km, 460m

Weather: dry and bright, but cold with a reported windchill of -10.

 

The forecast wasn't as sunny as had been predicted a few days prior, and the wind speeds were a little higher than I would have liked, but it was a westerly wind and I was going up the east side of the hill, so I figured I'd probably not have to fight it too much.

The going was easy, with the first 1.8k being on a good track, then on an ATV track, although some of the steeper parts of that were so muddy and slippery that I diverted through the adjacent heather. 

It was only in the final approach to the summit that I really got into the wind, and my goodness, that wind chill was every bit as cold as forecast and my cheeks were soon stinging with the cold. 

Snow had fallen overnight on the higher tops, and this summit was a good viewpoint to admire the prettiness. I didn't tarry too long; aside from having another 26k and another summit to fit into the day, it was too cold up there to be stationary for too long.

I was back at Bertie-the-Motorhome within 1.5 hours of having left (faster than OS Digital's estimated ascent time), and we were soon on our way for my next outing, which, if energy levels permitted, would culminate in another Marilyn being ticked off. 

Looking N up the A93

Snowy summits over there

 

 

 

Wednesday 21 October - Creag nan Gabhar (NO 154 841, 834m)

Start Point: Auchallater car park (NO 156 881)

End Point: Large layby just S of Newbigging (NO 145 851)

Distance and Ascent: 8.8km, 500m 

Weather: Rain, but not a breath of wind. Around 10 degrees.

 

It’s a strange thing that I’ve never been up this hill. I seem to recall that we had intentions to go up it one February, when we spent a week in Braemar*, but snow conditions (and maybe the after effects of wading through snow up Morrone the previous day) had us just take a walk up to Loch Callater instead. (*I've just looked it up; it was in February 2013 - click here for the relevant blog post)

Having not gone up the hill I’d had pencilled in for yesterday (when the weather turned out to be far better than forecast), I wasn’t prepared to bypass Creag nan Gabhar today, even though the weather was wetter. On the plus side, there was no wind at all, and in my hierarchy of weather conditions I’d prefer to be out in, I’ll take a steady rain with no wind over a strong wind with no rain (although only if I ignore the issue of ending up with a whole pile of wet kit to get dry).

Anyhooooo, it was gone noon by the time I set out from the Auchallater car park, where there were just two other vehicles. I passed what I assume to be the occupants of one of them soon after I set out, and by their attire I’d say they’d been for a dog walk, rather than up on the hills, which led me to believe that, at most, there was me and one other person prepared to be heading up into the soggy clouds today.

My outward route was simplicity itself: a track up to Sron nan Gabhar, then a well-trodden line the rest of the way. I took the trouble, once up there, to wander around a bit to be sure I hit the high point, and after a couple of photos, back down I headed, although not before I’d dropped a message to Mick asking him to reposition himself to the layby just S of Newbigging, giving me a 2km return leg, rather than 6km.

Its inexcusable, particularly given Mick’s parting words of ‘use your compass!’, that I then exited headed off the hill in the wrong direction (actually, to give myself credit, I headed off in the correct direction, but then failed to take the turn I needed). Finally the question as to why Loch Callater was in front of me got the better of me, I checked the map and kicked myself. A period of contouring around to the correct side of the hill ensued, before I dropped steeply down through easy-going heather, interspersed with the odd section of rough grass.

Meanwhile, Mick was making a similar size of meal about navigating to my destination layby, but he reached it as I made my final approach to the same location, and all is well that ends well (as we pulled away from that layby a short while later, I lost my phone signal, and it has since become apparent that the local phone mast has gone out of service; thank goodness that didn’t happen twenty minutes earlier!)

I bet it’s a magnificent viewpoint on a clear day.

Callater Burn running a bit high today

Mick (and Bertie-the-Motorhome) awaiting me in the layby

 

Thursday 4 June - Carn Mor (NJ 265 183; 804m)

Start Point: The Lecht Ski Centre car park

Distance and Ascent: 13.3km, 420m

Weather: Sunny intervals with one (very cold!) shower

I'd thought that Corryhabbie Hill would be my last of this trip, but thanks to Mick having had a cold, and wanting to give it an extra day before we started visiting people, we had a day spare, and it was Mick who suggested that it would be worth the 5-mile each-way detour to visit this hill. 

I should have given more thought to going up it from the west to save some driving distance, but it didn't occur to me until too late, when we were already parked up at The Lecht. At a glance this looks like the obvious starting point, sitting at an altitude of 650m, whereas Chapeltown (to the NW) sits at 350m. However, as the route from The Lecht goes over various intermediate lumps, the total ascent must be similar on both routes, plus, on the route we took, for most of the distance there is at best only a trod and there are plenty of peat hags to negotiate, so I suspect that the other route may have been easier. Still, if it was easy then everybody would be doing it...

To my surprise, Mick volunteered to come up this one with me, even after I'd said I didn't think it would be his cup of tea. To my greater surprise, he really enjoyed it too. I think we can safely say that he was over his cold! 

Initially following a track up from the ski centre, we then took to the fence line, until that veered off, whereupon we continued along the notional boundary line. Just before the final dip on the ridge, a path suddenly appeared in front of us (due to a change in the terrain having allowed one to appear just from the passage of feet; it wasn't an engineered one) and it was an easy final stroll up to the top. From there I could point out to Mick the hills I'd been up the previous day. 

We didn't vary the route much on the way back, except that I nipped up to Spot Height 800 (the next little lump S of Carn Mor), then as we left Spot Height 747, we couldn't see any point in going over the final undulation, when we could take a more direct line down the hillside to the car park. 

It was as we left the top of Carn Liath that the only shower of the outing hit, with moderate violence and with a significant chill. For me, it wouldn't have been cause for a pause, as I'd opted for full Paramo again (the temperature was around 6 degrees when we'd set out), but Mick needed to scramble into his waterproofs. 

Getting back to Bertie it was to find that the upper of my right shoe (Altra Timp) had ripped all along both inside and outside edge, with only 500km on them. I gave passing thought to whether it was the effect of the heathery traverse of the steep hillside on the final descent, but I've used plenty of other trail runners on identical terrain and I expect to get over 1000km from a pair of runners, even if I abuse them on pathless Marilyns. I didn't need to Google at length to find that it's a common problem with that model. I think I can safely say that I won't be getting another pair!

Peat hags agogo. In the second shot, we're not heading for the ATV line directly above Mick's head, but over to the far left hand side, where a trodden line avoided some ascent. On the way back, I did come down that ATV line, whereas Mick chose to skirt using the same line as on the outward route.

Summit selfie (would anyone pay enough attention to realise that Mick is wearing my hat? He couldn't find his own, although 'his own' was also mine until the beginning of this trip). 

Look! An easy trodden line!

Heading back down to the ski centre
 

 

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.