In my youth and ignorance I would frequently pass this towering giant of a hill en route to our annual summer holiday destination which would be hundreds of miles down the M6.
Then it always seemed much bigger, broodier and imposing than it actually was.
Even back then I harboured an urge to climb and conquer the often mist enshrouded peak but like oft made plans and resolutions, in thirty years I had never realised my dream.
Then in May last year Mrs Badger kissed this sleeping hillwalking prince so to speak and awoke him from his slumber, setting in motion a chain of events that would lead to the slaying of giants, the scoring of goals, the ticking of boxes.....you get the picture I'm sure!
Anyway last week another of those to do things was done when we drove an hour down the road and parked up next to Tinto Hill or Hill of Fire as it is portrayed on the info board.
I must say it is a muddy affair for the first Kilometer or so but then a well worn path negates the need for any map. The hill seems popular and a good few folks were on it judging by the car park.
We were up and down easily in the average time.
One interesting feature is the remains of a hill fort which we examined in the way down.
I must say I was a bit disappointed that the hill was less than my memory recalled.
Maybe some giants are best left alone!
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