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I had always wanted to save Ben Tirran for a winter walk. I'd seen lots of photos of Lochs Brandy and Wharral, with their craggy backdrops blanketed in snow, and I wanted to see the same thing for myself. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure it's a cracking walk on a fine, warm, sunny summer day (should such a thing ever happen), but I had it on the winter list.
My mate Robin was joining me for this one, our first outing together since a fine August day on Meall nan Eagan and The Fara. Since then, he had been through a period of enforced hill abstinence, so I suggested Ben Tirran, with the carrot dangling at the end being the prospect of a pint in the Climber's Bar of the Clova Hotel afterwards - their wood burning stove being another reason I wanted to do this one in the winter months.
I met him at his house at 8 o'clock and we piled into the one car and headed through Coupar Angus and Kirriemuir into Glen Clova. By the time we were parked and ready to start walking, it was almost 9.30 and it was clear it was going to be a nippy one.
- Clova Hotel from the carpark
We headed through the hotel carpark and the jumble of bunkhouses, chalets and outbuildings behind it and then through the gate and onto the moorland path up to the corner of Loch Brandy.
- Through the gate and onto the open moor with Ben Reid on the left
Robin had never been to Loch Brandy before but remembered his father talking about how he used to go fishing there years ago, so he wanted to see it for personal reasons as well. When he did, he certainly understood why his father cherished it so much, and I had added a new place to my growing list of future family picnic locations (for that nice day in summer, should it ever come to pass!)
- Looking down lower Glen Clova from the edge of Loch Brandy
- Loch Brandy
From the corner of Loch Brandy, we both agreed on the steeper route option onwards, over the Snub and above the edge of the cliffs above the loch.
- Ascending the Snub
The views opened up as we climbed, down the lower reaches of Glen Clova and north west towards Mayar and Driesh and the start of Jock's Road. We stopped frequently, more to try to capture shots of the swirling spindrift than to try to catch breath, but we soon reached the summit cairn.
- Spindrift above Loch Brandy - Corbett summit away in the distance
- Driesh and Mayar
- Robin caught in a flurry
- Loch Brandy from the edge of the crags
From here we could see Lochnagar and Mount Keen to the north, and to our east, the twin rounded domes of Ben Tirran and her actual Corbett summit, The Goet.
- Mount Keen from the Snub cairn
- Driesh and Mayar from the Snub
- Robin looking to Lochnagar
We dropped down to the bealach between the Snub and Green Hill, becoming briefly mired in a bog which had not quite yet had enough prolonged exposure to the winter conditions to provide pavement-like walking conditions.
- More spindrift over Loch Brandy
- Lucy Dog, Loch Brandy and the pale winter sun
- Loch Brandy from on high
Once through that, it was a straightforward meander across Green Hill to pick up the line of the new electric fence by one of the little lochans, and then up to the trig point and my 41st Corbett. 50 by the end of 2012 G - this is a start.
- View to Loch Brandy crags from Green Hill
- The loneliness of the plateau
- Little lochan and start of the final pull
- Robin and Lucy marching on
- Distant Mount Keen
- Closing in a bit over Lochnagar
We hunkered down in the shelter cairn with our flasks and lunch, Lucy making herself dizzy going round in circles trying to get as low to the ground by my feet as possible.
- Robin atop the Goet
- Number 41
Robin wandered off after lunch to answer a call of nature, and when he returned, I did likewise. By the time I got back, he was practically on hands and knees behind the trig pillar, a pained expression etched on his face, alternating between wringing his gloved hands and shoving them firmly into his oxters.
We quickly flung on as much gear as we could and made a sharp exit in the direction of the Ben Tirran cairn. I had on thin, silk glove liners with a pair of fleece-lined windproof gloves over them and a big pair of Mountain Equipment mitts over the top and still my hands were wracked by pain from the severe wind chill which I roughly calculated to be somewhere in the region of -372˚C.
As we descended, the howling gale abated gradually and the feeling came painfully back into our hands. Cameras were well and truly stowed away for the rest of the day and our objective was focused purely on getting to the bar!
We decided to cut across the hillside below Loch Wharral and down towards the hotel that way, rather than descending down to the road and back along the tarmac. Perhaps in hindsight the road would have been a better option as the going was pretty awkward with lots of rough ground and sections of bog.
However, exactly 5 hours after setting off we were back at the carpark and heading inside for a well deserved pint and bag of crisps.
- A fine end to a fine day!