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Shortly after Queenie's death I was visited by a celestial messenger and informed that, in my role as Lord Summerisle, Black Charles would soon be in contact with me to invite me to be his henchman in Scotland. I wrote about this a little in my report of the time (
https://www.walkhighlands.co.uk/Forum/viewtopic.php?f=9&t=114710 ) and was delighted that Black Charles would be doing away with the corruption of our current "democracy" and returning to some medieval practices. Beheading for Boris the Bad perhaps, using the apparatus stored in The Tower that beheaded Anne Boleyn, something that fascinated me as a boy in a tour guide I had. The axe specially blunted for the task, naturally. (I've just checked this and Anne was beheaded by sword, standing up, so no axe, no block) Pretty-pulled-apart-by-horses? The rack for Reez-Moog to stretch his spindleshanks until he was completely atomised, apart from his sneer of smug condescension which regrettably would remain like the Cheshire Cat's grin? I began looking forward with relish to this brave new future for the land.
Months passed and I heard nothing from Buck House. I guessed he had other things on his mind and would likely wait until after he was coronated before setting me to work. After all, he would want to be King properly before he started upending the status quo. I waited and waited. For an invite to his crowning, at the very least. Did it arrive? I'll tell you -no! it did not. I'm not impressed and have now withdrawn any offer of henching for Black Chaz. In fact, I'm so cross that I have put a hex upon him - may all his gold turn to lead. Hence the title of this week's report (and let that be a lesson to once and future Kings)
I was on my own this weekend, and it was a Bank Holiday Monday, for reasons already alluded to involving my erstwhile fickle master. Forecast wasn't great and I had a choice to make - did I try and blitz as many Grahams as possible, or did I include some Simms, which have been neglected of late. I still have a target of reaching 2000 of the blighters and am making very little headway there. So I opted for a cluster of Grahams in the north east which have been red balloons for too long and causing low-level irritation when I glance at my page. There were a couple that lent themselves to being part of a longer circuit with Simms, plus some quickies.
As I didn't have to wait for Allison I made a start late morning, managing to leave behind Thursday's lunch and some fruit I'd packed to keep me healthy
I hadn't decided whether I'd head home on Sunday or wait til Monday - partly weather related, partly concerns about possible fatigue after last weekend. If I did stay til Monday I'd have to figure out something to eat, or maybe even "go to a shop". I drove up to Angus, having decided to start with Hill of Wirren. I've always loved that name, as it reminds me of a classic Dr Who story featuring Tom Baker and the insectoid race of Wirrn from the Andromeda galaxy. I didn't see any of them, just in case you were worried. And I have no idea where the name "Wirren" comes from as a quick google search didn't assist me - possibly a corruption of "Fhurain"? Anyway, I stopped off in Edzell to eat one of my lunches needed for the coming days and checked where the walk started from. I parked at the end of the public road where there's a gate and a sign warning that you should keep to the track if the red flag is flying on the firing range. It wasn't - or at least I couldn't see any flags, so I wandered along the farm track by the River Ask, which is quite dramatic in places, going through rocky gorges. Lots of sheep and cattle about, not a good route to take your dog on. Or your wirrn, I suspect, if you have one of those.
3C74C5CA-84E3-4D8A-8D13-52AB38C53072_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
I passed by the farm then onto bulldozed tracks which led me almost all the way up to the summit - there's a short section of tussocks and peat hags to be traversed before the trig is reached. I then retraced my steps to the path to head over to the Simm of Bulg, which we'd been unable to reach last time as there had been deep snow around. There's a sizeable amount of drop and re-ascent to Bulg, then a confusing array of tracks to choose from to return you - I probably made the wrong choice and added a bit of mileage on, but I was enjoying being out and tramping along tracks.
Hill of Wirren
00EBFF94-E87A-4C29-8373-A9B0B8E558A5_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
My next port of call would be Hunt Hill, up Glen Mark. I knew of various camping options up there from previous visits, so thought that just getting there and finding a camp spot near the start of what would be the longest walk of the weekend would be the best idea, bearing in mind it was almost 7pm already and it would take me a wee while to drive up the single track (mostly) road up to Invermark. One camper van at the car park, I got my stuff sorted out into the big pack and set off, hoping to find somewhere suitable by the riverside. Which I did. Pitched, fed and settled down for what turned out to be quite a good night's sleep, the only irritants being a man with a shotgun blasting things intermittently for about half an hour around 11pm.
Not what you want blocking your river way
B8FE94D0-67FB-46BE-9CD4-761087BAA348_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
Friday began (and ended) with clag and drizzle. I had drawn up a circuit that took in 7 or so Simms ending up on Hunt Hill. I was hoping there would be a fair amount of ATV track linking the Simm summits up. Began with a steep climb on track mostly, to Monawee. Then came what the conditions were to be for almost all the day - trudging over tussock, heather and bog, in visibility that was rarely better than 10 metres and constant drizzle. Lovely
I made a planning error after the third Simm which meant I dropped down to the Stables of Lee rather than staying high and joining another track later on. Lesson: don't make up routes when you are tired! Peat hags were encountered between the Ballochs and the Watery Knowes then it was on, finally, to tackle the final obstacle (or so I thought) of Hunt Hill. I had planned to head off to the north from the summit, rejoining the main track along the north side of Loch Lee. I paused at the bottom and looked at the map. I could take a footpath following the Water of Urich which would walk me under the impressive crags to the east of Hunt Hill. And looked like it would be quicker too. I considered leaving my pack at the bottom of Hunt Hill, but in the clag, with batteries failing on my GPS I thought it safer to take it with me.
Hunt Hill. Honest!
E2C4774D-1A90-422F-A326-0DDD968D7C14_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
Summit reached, I returned to the bealach and began to look for the start of the footpath. This wasn't easy in the clag, with rocky promontories requiring ups and downs before I did eventually find the muddy outline of a path. I followed tis for a little while - til it reached the steep crag marked on the map. Then it simply disappeared. I'm guessing there has been considerable erosion, but it looked as if I'd have an uncomfortable drop down to a ledge, with no clear way of getting back up if it didn't lead anywhere, surrounded by cliffs. With a big pack, slippy wet grass underfoot and a body tired from almost 10 hours out on the hills, I decided not to risk it. I climbed back up a bit and studied the map. I could either climb back up Hunt Hill and take the route I'd originally drawn, or I could try following the path south, past the Falls of Damff to the FB marked on the map and try to walk alongside the river on the other side of the gorge. There's a very new, sturdy footbridge, right enough but I couldn't see how to get down to the opposite side of the river. I did find a track leading away from the other side of the bridge and took this, eventually ending up summiting another Simm, Cairn Lick which I found later I'd already done. From there it was a simple, if lengthy, trek down track and back to Loch Lee. I'd been out for 12 hours, seen nothing and was ready for bed. I pitched in the same spot as I'd used last night, ate my Huel with relish and settled down in my comfy warm bed. And didn't get a single wink of sleep! No noise, nothing extraneous to keep me awake...damn!
Falls of Damff
480F0A12-CBD7-4920-AEAF-0AE5CE03EDC6_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
Loch Lee
D9FCE14A-A125-44BC-8A7C-0CDA9A6D521A_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
The eagle-eyed amongst you will have noted there aren't many photo of my exploits this weekend. I refuse to waste pixels on clag
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Al, on Flickr
305E1F03-4B5A-4F42-BAC3-1B4B1A448C60_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
Groggily I got up on Saturday morning and made my short way back to the car by 7. A quiet drive back down Glen Mark then a return to Edzell to decide what next. I was thinking about where to camp that night, and reckoned Pressendye would offer the least camping opportunities so might as well do that first. Headed up to Tarland - a few houses and commercial properties decorated with bunting, but not that many, considering where I was. Parked in the village centre and took the WH circular route clockwise.
A bit of road walking to begin with, but not much traffic. Into farm tracks, met a cheery farmer on his mechanical vehicle checking gates were shut. Through the Davoch Plantation then onto the open hillside, good track amid heather. Another claggy day, so no views, and the wind was chilly. I kept going til I reached the summit, knowing I could crawl in behind the big shelter at the top to have my lunch. As I was feasting away a couple of guys from Aberdeen came up, we had a chat for a while. On the way down I met heaps of mountain bikers using the extensively re-worked path network to the NE of Tarland. Paths were pretty churned up in places as a result. Beyond the bikers was the one thing I remembered from my last visit here - a lovely lane of trees that you pass through. Last time the trunks were bejewelled with snow, but still pretty today. Back at the car just before 2pm.
DA0158E5-9B2D-4C4D-BA6D-468A4E470AFE_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
38F3B496-5BD5-4269-907E-866EA82072F2_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
FD42048D-4A74-4A82-93E6-E5FAC3ECB366_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
C1292F59-5827-4970-995D-CD4500A43A6D_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
Next up was The Buck. This involved a bit of a drive up twisty roads to The Cabrach in thick fog, although the mist was higher up by the time I got there. I had another look at my planned route, which I thought had been 24k, but was actually 29.5k. I was clearly not going to get that finished in the time left today. Hmm...do The Buck first and try and camp high up on the group of Simms to the SW? Maybe. I changed packs again, made sure I had what I'd need overnight and set off, having parked beside Cabrach Church. I took a route through Cabrach House estate - there's a "Private" sign on the gate but I chose to interpret this as referring to vehicles only. South to Powneed, past numerous ruined farm house buildings. Pleasant and grassy hillside round to the beginning of the track up to The Buck from the west. The wind was cold and stronger than I was happy with, if I was thinking of a high camp, so I cast around for possibilities at the base of this bit of track I could use if needed.
One of many derelict farmhouses
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Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
The ascent of The Buck from this direction is straightforward, the track goes pretty much to the summit, just a long pull. The summit has, unexpectedly, jaggy rocks and a jumbled wall to deal with to reach the trig. Five pm by this time. I'd only done 9.5km by the time I had returned to the start of the path up The Buck, meaning I still had at least 20k to do tomorrow plus the hills I'd planned for Sunday. But the wind was really too strong to comfortably camp high, besides I wasn't sure I'd find anywhere high up that was suitable. There were a few grassy spots where I was, and a bit reluctantly I pitched for the night.
194E8458-0808-4147-934E-8318F7CCD6F9_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
E7DE67D1-45D8-422F-89E6-B56901F19F9B_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
No noise, no passing people (although about 5am I though I heard someone call out a greeting to me - possibly another celestial messenger) but another day of clag by the look of it. I started out on track, passing gross butts up Sand Hill, then an interminable tramp over tussocks to reach the first Simm, Creag an Eunan. One of those summits that is flat and the highest point hidden behind a succession of peat hags. I thought this is what the surface of the moon would look like...if it was made of peat hags instead of green cheese. And surrounded with double electric fencing. There is an insulated "cross-over" point by the summit. Fortunately the next Simm, Creag an Sgor had tracks going to it, and those tracks had fresh boot prints on them...someone had been up here within the last 24 hours...maybe my 5am spectre. A Simm bagger? The top is surprisingly rocky given the otherwise heathery surroundings, even more so than The Buck. I found a well trodden path with more (different) boot prints having approached from this side - perhaps this is a well-climbed hill in the area.
Creag nan Eunan
8E74C9D9-40CE-47AF-9847-84005BFD2F2F_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
Creag nan Sgor
D8369BF5-FCF1-4CD8-A9B4-841B44D98EA7_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
The next few km were on track before I got to Claisdhu Hill and headed for the Foul Mire. Not exactly the most encouraging thing to see ahead of you - a bit like "here be monsters" on the old nautical charts. How bad would it be to have earned that name? Actually it wasn't as bad as I'd been fearing, though I wouldn't recommend it for a pleasant wander. I luckily came to another insulated section of the electric fencing, which prevented any shocking endings. I started up Hill of Three Stones thinking that the worst was over now. Oh how little I knew....
The Foul Mire
FD476D84-881F-4E25-B6D3-8ECE47F32B9E_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
Hill of Three Stones had me expecting something...well... stony. Maybe not quite to the scale of Stonehenge's trilithons but maybe a cut down version (like in Spinal Tap, if you've seen the movie). And what was there? No stones at all! At least none I found in the clag. What there was though was some of the worst - if not the worst - peat bagginess I've ever had the lack of fortune to encounter. Deep gashes, in places cut 15 feet down which have to be got around, over or through. Trying to keep a sense of direction in place in the clag with these hags was a nightmare. Sometimes I could walk in the hags if they were travelling roughly the way I wanted to go, but there was always the fear of slipping into the centre of the bog and being slowly swallowed forever, maybe to be unearthed by some future civilisation and exhibited in a museum a like one of the 2000 year old bog bodies. So I'd like to rename this hill - in the absence of any, never mind three stones and in the presence of bloody awful bogs (yes I have been to the Ladder Hills and these ones are worse) I will rename this Hill of the Foul Mire.
Summit plateau Three Stones Hill (No Stones)
BF5A1876-A716-4F65-AC71-7501F7948EF9_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
The journey from Hill of Three Stones (No Stones) to Cairnbrallan was one of the least pleasurable hours/days/months of my hillwalking. Eventually I left the hags and swamps behind and started climbing the final hill, knowing I'd just have to follow a fence line to get to the track that would take me home. Often you'll find animal tracks running alongside the fence line making the going easier - not here...and lots of damn tussocks too. Finally I joined a track taking me over Dead Wife's Hillock (I do love some of the names for things in this part of the world) and some farms, then the road back to the church. I was fairly happy that it was only just gone 1pm, time for my next two objectives before I'd have to stop for the night.
9185C98C-993D-448F-B8BF-1FA4F460FA96_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
3AB06003-E1F4-4C84-A579-33873EC72EB1_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
I sat in the car and considered what to do. The forecast promised sunshine later today and dry, if cloudy conditions tomorrow. I'll just stay up then, thought I. Next stop Mona Gowan. I had planned to do this from the west, but I had a look at the WH route from the north and thought that would make a nice change, only 11.5k. I headed south through Strathdon, paying less than £1.50 for a litre of diesel for the first time in many, many months. Parked by the bridge at Culfork where there's parking for several cars. As I didn't have a route with me I thought I'd download the WH app and use that. Hmmm. Download went fine but my iPhone didn't seem to realise it had been downloaded (after a restart too) and I couldn't configure it to show my position on the map. Which became a problem when I took the wrong track through the forest and ended up going over Gallows Hill and having a bit of a detour.
I shouldn't be here...
AF79A634-0372-4A4D-BE9A-6246B8A5EDD2_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
Trees in Light
F8B460D4-C355-4215-8705-D62EB4CC3180_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
I did manage to get myself back on the right track and the ascent from this side is preferable to that we took from the west last time round. Plus the clouds had lifted and for the first time in days I had some views, although the main Cairngorm massif was still cloaked in white. This was my 200th second round Graham. I took the same way back, without my added detour and reached the car at 5.30pm. Sunshine left me feeling resplendent and well able to tackle my final hill of the day, the quick up-and-back Geallaig Hill.
Mona Gowan
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Al, on Flickr
A5E0C39D-1A87-4703-8356-ECB2BE36A8EE_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
I noticed there's a replacement Bridge of Gairnshiel being constructed, but for the moment it's still over the humphy-backett one. A short distance along the road, park by the farm at Braenaloin and just up and down the same way. I had wondered if I should try and high camp, given the nice evening and the possibility of views, but I reckoned (rightly) that it would be difficult to get a suitable pitch amidst the heather at the top. It was a glorious evening though.
544D2154-4213-497C-8812-C44CB53E7C34_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
Geallaig Hill
5EB8B3C3-8B7A-4779-96C3-E923FBCBE243_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
B361C7BE-8775-4993-BBDA-41F7460406AC_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
What now? I'd kinda decided to try and do some of the Grahams around Glenisla on Monday, so I could try and camp by the Clunie Water. I did realise it was a sunny May evening on a bank holiday weekend, but it was worth a shot...That would mean I could pop into Braemar and try to replace my eaten fourth day sandwich. Made it to the Co-Op just before 8pm, again not that much in the way of coronation bunting in this Royalist haven, scored the last vegan sandwich in the shop and some alcohol free lagers (they didn't have Guinness 0) and continued down the road, spotting a nice semi-secluded pitch spot by the river. Had my rather late dinner sitting in the sunshine, after paddling my tired feet in the cool waters. A quieter night than I had feared, not much overnight traffic at all. But rain, quite a lot of it.
9B4C74BF-985B-4D0B-80C4-830398112FBA_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
Monday morning I was back to clag. The forecast was either wrong, or had been for further north, as when I checked today's forecast it was for rain and fog. Grrr. I got up just after 6, breakfasted and was away by 7 with the plan to do Mount Blair and Badandun Hill, both of which have tracks to the top. If I could be bothered, or if the weather unexpectedly improved, I might do Deuchray Hill too. Mount Blair first - I parked by the forestry, which has recently been cut down, walked along the road a bit then followed the farm track to the top of the hill. As exciting as that! As I was descending I could see some sort of vehicle with flashing amber lights alongside my car...when I got down I found a ginormous digger transporter snuck in behind me. I suspect I had been cursed a few times, but there were no "No Parking" signs, nor, if I'm honest, did I expect there to be anyone there before 9am on a public holiday. Just goes to show...
Mt Blair. Somewhere up there
6187C960-D77A-490E-98D9-E530CA67E07D_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
0183C165-3249-4721-9F86-5A63AC8D9448_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
318A08F0-A704-49BB-8B44-7671A2732BC0_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
5CAE104A-5454-4911-9682-AD02F99279BF_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
I drove along through Forter to start on Badandun Hill. There's a large passing place on the west side of the river that can absorb a car easily, then walk over the bridge with the post box in it. It's not that long since I did this hill and I was going by memory rather than map...you cross the bridge then go through the gate on your left...So I did that. I had been walking for a few minutes when I noticed the track was much muddier than I remembered, and I didn't seem to be gaining any height, just going along the river. Numbskull had forgotten it's the second track along the road that you go through, the one marked for the Catamaran Trail. Hasty rectifications in the rain and the proper path reached. I was getting pretty wet - having swapped my trusty Paramo jacket (too warm now) for my Mountain Equipment hard shell I discovered that this jacket very much needed re-proofing. At least I wasn't too hot
Summit reached at 10am I started back down, pausing in the shelter of a friendly peat hag to have lunch/second breakfast. I put on a dry layer between my soaking wet jacket and my soaking wet shirt. Goretex
This is not the right track...
3DD6B2A6-1A9E-4C8F-A677-809B5A27BFE6_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
2F19DC00-155C-4AB7-8C75-6EBEAA12A4DE_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
F10B2CA5-3E30-4778-B5D1-B2F948104DAD_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
AA02076C-F431-42E5-B551-10D765B0580F_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
Feeling cold and wet I decided that Deuchray Hill would be waiting for another day and returned to the car. The lorry and digger had both gone (it was only just after 11) and I had quite a busy road home to contend with. But 8 more Grahams in the bag and almost 100 miles walked without much in the way of fatigue feelings, that's alright.
