Merrick and, um, More Merrick
Route: The Merrick, from Loch Trool
Corbetts: Merrick
Donalds: Merrick
Date walked: 06/05/2022
Time taken: 26 hours
Distance: 17km
Ascent: 1175m
The first week in May and I am off work as is my habit and have decided to dig the old tent out for a wee overnighter in Galloway Forest Park. It's a couple of years since I've been down this way and I've been thinking for some time a camp out in the general vicinity of Loch Enoch would be pretty fine. So I have my mind set on a simple plan, head up the Merrick, drop down Redstone Rig, pitch up somewhere near the loch, walk out via Lochs Neldricken and Valley in the morning. Early in the week the forecast looks promising for Friday/Saturday, I'm looking forward to some peace and quiet.
As the week progresses the forecast worsens. By Thursday it's looking like Friday will be decidedly wet, but now it is in my head no other plan will do, everything is ready, I baked oatcakes and banana bread specially dagnammit! It's only rain, I won't melt.
So Friday arrives and off I go, setting off not particularly early and driving south down a very soggy Ayrshire coast before cutting inland to Glentrool and a deserted carpark. It is still raining, though easing off as I pull on boots and triple check the heavy pack before starting the slow plod along the rough, wet track by the Buchan Burn towards Kilsharg Bothy.
By the time the bothy hoves into view it is after midday and time for some dinner. I'm not a huge fan of bothies to be honest, but a dry seat for my meal doesn't go amiss and I amuse myself reading the graffiti carved into the door while I rest and refuel, the skull with a knife through it lends an artistic touch amongst the more mundane declarations of undying love I feel.
Fed and watered I continue on my way, the rain now reduced to mere mizzle as I make slow progress up the eroded path through the forest, water pouring down it. Precipitation has stopped altogether when I emerge into the light again though the clouds are hanging low over the hills and I am not far beyond the deer fence before finding myself enveloped in it. Not to worry, there is a long way to go yet and I still have faint hopes of it clearing before I reach the Merrick's summit.
Ambling slowly I pause often to catch my breath. Can't even pretend I'm admiring the view today as I can't see more than about ten metres in front of me. The maintained path peters out and soft, grassy track takes over making for easy walking. There's nothing too strenuous or steep and despite the gloom it is impossible to go off course. A steepening of the angle is the only hint that I'm approaching the top of Benyellary. I continue slowly but surely upward and after a time the huge summit cairn appears out of the clag.
As there is no sign of improvement in the weather as yet there seems little point in hanging around so after the briefest of pauses I saunter onwards. Crossing the Neive of the Spit in the dense cloud is actually rather lovely. I stick to the right hand side of the wall and can sense rather than see the steep ground plunging away on my right. It feels like walking along the edge of the abyss. Gradually the gradient of the path eases upwards once more and as I ascend the final slopes towards the Merrick trig erratics loom out of the murk around me and cairns marking the route appear here and there letting me know the top is not much further.
I arrive at the summit pretty much on the dot of 3pm. On a clear day one can, famously, see Northern Ireland, and England, and Wales from this vantage point. Today I am treated to a fine, close up and personal view of a Scottish cloud. It is a delightful shade of white and appropriately damp. Still, having lugged the heavy pack up here it is most definitely time for a break and as there is not another soul around I have my free choice of rocks to sit on so there's that.
I make my selection of perches amongst the giant, not really either cairn or shelter, rickle of stones that rings the trig and relax a while. From time to time the clag brightens and gets my hopes up that it may shift through but alas, it does not. After forty five minutes I accept that there will be no views today and that it is time to get my navigation head on to find my way down to Loch Enoch through the gloom.
The first, short section of descent is grassy and easy but it isn't long before I encounter the first of the many crags and bogs of Redstone Rig which I am going to have to plot a course around. I enjoy this kind of walking but am a little concerned that I'm going to have to check my bearings every five minutes the whole way down as I negotiate my way around them. Fortunately I haven't proceeded terribly far before I start to see ghostly hints of Loch Enoch through the clag and a short while later find myself emerging below the cloud and splendid views across to Dungeon Hill and Craignaw appearing before me.
Below the murk ambling this way and that around crags and bogs over the tussocky ground is a joy. I aim vaguely for the south west corner of the loch figuring it would be a convenient starting point for tomorrow's return to the car park and take my time finding a suitable pitch on a decently dry and flat perch about twenty metres above the water. Tent goes up, water supplies are replenished, and by 5.30 I am settled in for a lazy evening.
The campsite is just as idyllic as I had pictured in my imagination. The sky is now blue and the sun shines down on me as I perch on a convenient rock eating copious quantities of pasta, tonight's version accompanied by watercress and walnut pesto. I have splendid views across Loch Enoch to Mullwarchar and Dungeon Hill, the gloriously rugged landscape of Galloway looking stunning in the early evening light. Geese chatter and water laps gently as I test out my shiny new hip flask filled with Jura's finest that my son gave me for my birthday (gotta love that boy). I get my hopes up for a fine sunset and perhaps enjoying the fabled dark skies glistening with stars.
Yeah, that doesn't happen. Half an hour before sunset the sky clouds over once more. Typical. Still it is lovely to be away from it all and perhaps the morning will bring clearer weather. I turn in early and by ten am fast asleep. I wake at 5am and stick my head out of the tent to see if it's worth getting up for sunrise. It isn't, the cloud remains low, I turn over and go back to sleep.
Two hours later I wake once more and again keek outside. This time the sun is shining and any clouds well above the tops. It is a beautiful, warm spring morning. I pull myself from my sleeping bag and brew coffee. Just seems a shame in hindsight that I didn't do the route in reverse. There will be good summit views today. Then, as I slowly pack away it occurs to me that I don't have to return via the lochs. There is really nothing stopping me going back the way I came. It isn't as if I haven't been the other way before. It would, however in involve some re-ascent, can I be bothered? More coffee is required while contemplating the matter.
More coffee brings brings clarity of thinking. It isn't that much more up, and Redstone Rig is thoroughly pleasant walking. It would be a shame to miss out on the views, and an excuse to enjoy the narrow ridge between Merrick and Benyellary in clear conditions. Sod it, why not? Change of plan it is.
So not long after nine I find myself plodding slowly back up Redstone Rig. It really is lovely walking wending and wiggling back through the crags, my target bathed in morning sun peaking up before me, I love ascending the Merrick this way. Progress is snail paced, with endless stops to actually admire the view, but by just after ten I find myself back at the trig point I'd left 16 hours previously. I'm chuckling somewhat to myself at the ridiculousness of 'doing' the same hill twice in two days but it is definitely worth the effort. The vistas are fine, not 'I can see Northern Ireland, England and Wales clear' but I can make out the Isle of Man, and the hills of Galloway are laid before me. The sun is shining, there is no wind to speak of and I still have the place to myself. Bliss.
It is a very fine vantage point and I'm glad I chose to come back up but at some point I do have to make my way homeward so after an hour or so of lazing around I haul myself up and head back towards Benyellary. About half way across the Neive of the Spit I start meeting a few people headed in the opposite direction, the first I have laid eyes on for a good 24 hours. I pause and chat to a few here and there, and pause some more for a few photos, and pause some more to admire the views again. Eventually, despite all the pausing I arrive back at Benyellary.
Here I take another break for half an hour or so, there being no great rush. The views east from here are particularly pleasing, looking down on rugged wee Buchan Hill and over the lochs I'm not passing by after all. Then it is back down the gentle slopes towards the forest, a nice, easy and grassy descent, then picking up the stonier path towards the tree line. Once back amongst the trees the path is badly eroded, loose and muddy, making for unpleasant walking especially on the descent but this section is thankfully short. I soon enough find myself back at the bothy.
With a slight feeling of deja vu I repeat yesterday's dinner break, though this time select a more pleasing perch outside the building. Fed and watered once more there is just the rough track back along the Buchan Burn to the carpark remaining. It is rather lovely in the warm sunshine and I stop here and there for a few snaps of the gushing waters. When I eventually return the carpark is decidedly busier than yesterday with nary a spare space to be seen.
Bags dumped and footwear changed a quick wander over to the Bruce's Stone is in order to cap off the trip before heading home. A fine final view of the wonderful landscape of Galloway, must remember not to leave it so long to revisit, it really is one of the finest areas of Scotland.
As the week progresses the forecast worsens. By Thursday it's looking like Friday will be decidedly wet, but now it is in my head no other plan will do, everything is ready, I baked oatcakes and banana bread specially dagnammit! It's only rain, I won't melt.
So Friday arrives and off I go, setting off not particularly early and driving south down a very soggy Ayrshire coast before cutting inland to Glentrool and a deserted carpark. It is still raining, though easing off as I pull on boots and triple check the heavy pack before starting the slow plod along the rough, wet track by the Buchan Burn towards Kilsharg Bothy.
By the time the bothy hoves into view it is after midday and time for some dinner. I'm not a huge fan of bothies to be honest, but a dry seat for my meal doesn't go amiss and I amuse myself reading the graffiti carved into the door while I rest and refuel, the skull with a knife through it lends an artistic touch amongst the more mundane declarations of undying love I feel.
Fed and watered I continue on my way, the rain now reduced to mere mizzle as I make slow progress up the eroded path through the forest, water pouring down it. Precipitation has stopped altogether when I emerge into the light again though the clouds are hanging low over the hills and I am not far beyond the deer fence before finding myself enveloped in it. Not to worry, there is a long way to go yet and I still have faint hopes of it clearing before I reach the Merrick's summit.
Ambling slowly I pause often to catch my breath. Can't even pretend I'm admiring the view today as I can't see more than about ten metres in front of me. The maintained path peters out and soft, grassy track takes over making for easy walking. There's nothing too strenuous or steep and despite the gloom it is impossible to go off course. A steepening of the angle is the only hint that I'm approaching the top of Benyellary. I continue slowly but surely upward and after a time the huge summit cairn appears out of the clag.
As there is no sign of improvement in the weather as yet there seems little point in hanging around so after the briefest of pauses I saunter onwards. Crossing the Neive of the Spit in the dense cloud is actually rather lovely. I stick to the right hand side of the wall and can sense rather than see the steep ground plunging away on my right. It feels like walking along the edge of the abyss. Gradually the gradient of the path eases upwards once more and as I ascend the final slopes towards the Merrick trig erratics loom out of the murk around me and cairns marking the route appear here and there letting me know the top is not much further.
I arrive at the summit pretty much on the dot of 3pm. On a clear day one can, famously, see Northern Ireland, and England, and Wales from this vantage point. Today I am treated to a fine, close up and personal view of a Scottish cloud. It is a delightful shade of white and appropriately damp. Still, having lugged the heavy pack up here it is most definitely time for a break and as there is not another soul around I have my free choice of rocks to sit on so there's that.
I make my selection of perches amongst the giant, not really either cairn or shelter, rickle of stones that rings the trig and relax a while. From time to time the clag brightens and gets my hopes up that it may shift through but alas, it does not. After forty five minutes I accept that there will be no views today and that it is time to get my navigation head on to find my way down to Loch Enoch through the gloom.
The first, short section of descent is grassy and easy but it isn't long before I encounter the first of the many crags and bogs of Redstone Rig which I am going to have to plot a course around. I enjoy this kind of walking but am a little concerned that I'm going to have to check my bearings every five minutes the whole way down as I negotiate my way around them. Fortunately I haven't proceeded terribly far before I start to see ghostly hints of Loch Enoch through the clag and a short while later find myself emerging below the cloud and splendid views across to Dungeon Hill and Craignaw appearing before me.
Below the murk ambling this way and that around crags and bogs over the tussocky ground is a joy. I aim vaguely for the south west corner of the loch figuring it would be a convenient starting point for tomorrow's return to the car park and take my time finding a suitable pitch on a decently dry and flat perch about twenty metres above the water. Tent goes up, water supplies are replenished, and by 5.30 I am settled in for a lazy evening.
The campsite is just as idyllic as I had pictured in my imagination. The sky is now blue and the sun shines down on me as I perch on a convenient rock eating copious quantities of pasta, tonight's version accompanied by watercress and walnut pesto. I have splendid views across Loch Enoch to Mullwarchar and Dungeon Hill, the gloriously rugged landscape of Galloway looking stunning in the early evening light. Geese chatter and water laps gently as I test out my shiny new hip flask filled with Jura's finest that my son gave me for my birthday (gotta love that boy). I get my hopes up for a fine sunset and perhaps enjoying the fabled dark skies glistening with stars.
Yeah, that doesn't happen. Half an hour before sunset the sky clouds over once more. Typical. Still it is lovely to be away from it all and perhaps the morning will bring clearer weather. I turn in early and by ten am fast asleep. I wake at 5am and stick my head out of the tent to see if it's worth getting up for sunrise. It isn't, the cloud remains low, I turn over and go back to sleep.
Two hours later I wake once more and again keek outside. This time the sun is shining and any clouds well above the tops. It is a beautiful, warm spring morning. I pull myself from my sleeping bag and brew coffee. Just seems a shame in hindsight that I didn't do the route in reverse. There will be good summit views today. Then, as I slowly pack away it occurs to me that I don't have to return via the lochs. There is really nothing stopping me going back the way I came. It isn't as if I haven't been the other way before. It would, however in involve some re-ascent, can I be bothered? More coffee is required while contemplating the matter.
More coffee brings brings clarity of thinking. It isn't that much more up, and Redstone Rig is thoroughly pleasant walking. It would be a shame to miss out on the views, and an excuse to enjoy the narrow ridge between Merrick and Benyellary in clear conditions. Sod it, why not? Change of plan it is.
So not long after nine I find myself plodding slowly back up Redstone Rig. It really is lovely walking wending and wiggling back through the crags, my target bathed in morning sun peaking up before me, I love ascending the Merrick this way. Progress is snail paced, with endless stops to actually admire the view, but by just after ten I find myself back at the trig point I'd left 16 hours previously. I'm chuckling somewhat to myself at the ridiculousness of 'doing' the same hill twice in two days but it is definitely worth the effort. The vistas are fine, not 'I can see Northern Ireland, England and Wales clear' but I can make out the Isle of Man, and the hills of Galloway are laid before me. The sun is shining, there is no wind to speak of and I still have the place to myself. Bliss.
It is a very fine vantage point and I'm glad I chose to come back up but at some point I do have to make my way homeward so after an hour or so of lazing around I haul myself up and head back towards Benyellary. About half way across the Neive of the Spit I start meeting a few people headed in the opposite direction, the first I have laid eyes on for a good 24 hours. I pause and chat to a few here and there, and pause some more for a few photos, and pause some more to admire the views again. Eventually, despite all the pausing I arrive back at Benyellary.
Here I take another break for half an hour or so, there being no great rush. The views east from here are particularly pleasing, looking down on rugged wee Buchan Hill and over the lochs I'm not passing by after all. Then it is back down the gentle slopes towards the forest, a nice, easy and grassy descent, then picking up the stonier path towards the tree line. Once back amongst the trees the path is badly eroded, loose and muddy, making for unpleasant walking especially on the descent but this section is thankfully short. I soon enough find myself back at the bothy.
With a slight feeling of deja vu I repeat yesterday's dinner break, though this time select a more pleasing perch outside the building. Fed and watered once more there is just the rough track back along the Buchan Burn to the carpark remaining. It is rather lovely in the warm sunshine and I stop here and there for a few snaps of the gushing waters. When I eventually return the carpark is decidedly busier than yesterday with nary a spare space to be seen.
Bags dumped and footwear changed a quick wander over to the Bruce's Stone is in order to cap off the trip before heading home. A fine final view of the wonderful landscape of Galloway, must remember not to leave it so long to revisit, it really is one of the finest areas of Scotland.
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