My Langholm walking friend Andrew pointed out Carrifran Wildwood to me from heights of the beautiful ridge between the two Saddle Yoke tops, whilst walking Hart Fell Ridges Horseshoe on the only glorious day in January this year – just before the two big winter storms moved in an swept away all there was by way of good winter-walking conditions. And then we moved into a wetter than usual spring followed by similar theme all through the summer…
Nevertheless, Carrifran Wildwood stayed on my wish list as a place to explore and know about, not least since I have some involvement with Tarras Valley Nature Reserve. Living in Langholm Henry the dog and I are well supplied with excellent walking country for all seasons, both in terms of the aforesaid nature reserve and also a strong local walking tradition, as evidenced by Langholm Walks 14 show-piece walks. Nevertheless, I have also come to love what I have thus far experienced of Moffat walking and thus have been looking for an excuse to return and explore Carrifran…
The excuse came in the form of a very welcome but unexpected blast from the very distant past: an old mountaineering acquaintance/house-mate from 1980’s had read the Walk Highlands walk report I wrote up on the Hart Fell Ridges Walk – and posted a message. Steven, who I remembered as a Yorkshireman, living at the time in London, had been living in Stirling the last 22 years, was about to move to Moffat – and, after we had exchanged 3 decades worth of news via email, suggested we meet to do a walk in the area. Since I had to date, slightly more local experience than he; he proposed I select a walk.

This gave me the perfect excuse to suggest a visit to the Carrifran Valley – and a small amount of further research suggested to me that adding in White Coomb 821m, 4th highest in Southern Uplands, could offer stunning views as well as a circular walk, which would also fit nicely into the available hours of daylight, in late November - moving at a pace conducive to comfortable conversation. Like me, Steve had already climbed White Coomb in summer and from the more usual approach via Grey Mares Tail Waterfall and Loch Skeen. Steve was also very interested in Carrifran so he didn’t need any persuading to make a second ascent of the hill. He was also interested in the Hart Fell Ridges Horseshoe but, at nearly half again as long a walk, worth saving that one for a day with more time available.
Similarly to my own mid-January Hart Fell walk 10 months before, but unusually for mid-November, conditions involved a big freeze in the few days before the walk, followed by a ‘named’ storm (this time Storm Bert) sweeping in, with high winds and rain, to wash it all away. The cold snap in January had included a light dusting of snow at all levels as well as temperatures down to minus 10°C. Being higher there had been slightly more snow on Moffat Hills compared to Langholm. This had actually been apparent from the summit of Langholm’s iconic Whita Hill 355m, whose superb vista can actually include White Coomb some 25 miles distant, on a very clear day – but especially if snow-clad. Now, in the mid-November freeze (down to minus 8°C), there was only a hard frost in Langholm. I wondered if the Moffat Hills would be snow-dusted – and two days before I was due to meet Steven, Henry the dog and I made our umpteenth ascent of Whita Hill to find out: we could indeed see White Coomb, appropriately slightly whiter than lower neighbours, but nevertheless, likely just a thicker frost more than a covering of snow.

Wednesday 20th November 2024
I think I originally met Steven around 1985 when he would have been about 29 years old to my 24 - and last saw him, when he was aged about 33 – and we had both by then moved away from London and settled in different parts of Scotland. Nevertheless, aged 69 to my 64, he was instantly recognisable, in poor light and at distance, as he arrived in Station carpark, Moffat just after 9am. And he quickly seemed to recognise me, albeit I was more easily identifiable, having warned him I would be ‘with dog’… He even sounded the same, with a broad Yorkshire accent, not in the slightest bit diminished, despite having lived in Scotland since 1986.
My car being adapted to accommodating 37kg of potentially wet and smelly woolly beast, we used my wheels to drive out of Moffat and 15 minutes down the A708 to Carrifran Wildwood, where we parked in a small lay-by just before bridge over Carrifran Burn - about 200m before the main gateway to the reserve. At approaching 70 years of age, Steven was trim and fit looking, as well as looking well-equipped for a moderately strenuous walk over mostly rough terrain, in sub-zero temperatures. Doubtless Steven was also quietly appraising me; sadly not so trim, and at 64, also not a spring-chicken to be tackling such a venture. Seemingly we are both similarly active and experienced on Scottish Hills, in all seasons – albeit I have a possible advantage with Henry dragging me out every single day, whatever the weather. And now Henry, not a spring chicken himself at almost 8 years of age, was hopping nimbly out of the car boot, tail wagging, eyes bright and excited as always, when faced with the likelihood of a long walk in an exciting new place - in fact yet another extension of the doggy heaven he thinks he died and woke up in, when re-located to Langholm nearly four years ago…


After the short walk along the road we encountered the main gate-way into Carrifran Wildwood, identified by ornate wooden signs either side. We entered the reserve and started walking along the main and well-established path, passing little signed ‘loops’ facilitating exploration, as well as a prominent and historic sheep-fold. But with White Coomb beckoning we would need to save detailed explorations for another day. I was aware of Steven looking with keen interest at the woodland, knowledgably identifying different tree-types. Steven is actually a charted surveyor by profession, very experienced and even distinguished in the field of Urban Regeneration – but he seemed to have added detailed knowledge around subjects of natural woodland and landscape regeneration as well. I found him a mine of information, to my embryonic and growing interest from the perspective of a recently retired doctor.



About 1.5km (1 mile) along the, thus far, fairly straight as well as straight forward track we reached a stream confluence as well as what I’d describe as the head wall of Carrifran Valley. Here we were faced with a mild dilemma in terms of route finding. The previously well-established track was now diminishing and becoming harder to follow. I had read a brief description of an option to follow the right stream fork, of Firthhope Burn, up past little cascades and going on to make the most direct approach to White Coomb, looming up as yet unseen and overhead to the right (NE). Likely there would be a bit of scrambling that way, with possibility of some icy patches, which we could potentially negotiate using ‘microspikes’… but of more concern, we didn’t know how vegetated it would be, without being able to see obvious signs of an established path.

More temptingly, the most obvious in terms of visible pathway, appeared to be the headwall straight ahead, where there seemed to be what we assumed were little access paths used by tree-planters. There even looked to be what may have been horizontal traversing paths high up on the slope, heading across to the top of Firthhope Burn, at the level of the rocky outcrop of Gupe Craig – or, we conceded, they could also be just geological fault line type features – similar to the famed ‘Parallel Roads of Glen Roy’ up in the Highlands…


In the event a promising albeit minor path led us across the stream and then angled us progressively leftwards and up the spur coming down the middle of the headwall, and keeping approximately to RH bank of the left stream fork; that of Priest Gill. The traversing routes we had thought we’d seen from below came to naught and so our leftwards angling journey headed progressively more and more in the direction of a deep col between the Saddle Yokes and the hilly prominence over the top of Raven Craig. Not wanting to get too far displaced from our planned ultimate direction of travel, we started angling more rightwards (N), over increasingly rough terrain. At some point we reached what would be strikingly the best photo opportunity of the day, high up on the headwall, looking across to the cascades of Firthhope Burn...


We laboured on up increasingly steep as well as rougher terrain for about another twenty minutes. This put us close to the top of the slope, just below the col. At this point we started to feel an icy wind coming over from the other side – so we backed off a bit to find a last bit of shelter, which was unanimously declared to be an ideal spot for an overdue morning coffee and snack break.


Moving on up into the increasingly keen breeze, we soon reached a temporary level area, up above the rocky crescent of Raven Craig. At this level and for the first time, we could now see the bulky outline of Hart Fell, in addition to the shapely outline of the Saddle Yokes Ridge – so now able to see virtually all of upper parts of January’s Hart Fell Ridges route…


Obligingly there continued to be a narrow path still apparently heading in the right direction for us – and this now curved around from N to E to point directly at White Coomb via a bonus hill-top; Firchhope Rig 800m. The frosty and rounded white hump of White Coomb was now becoming increasingly visible.


On almost level terrain we started walking towards our objective. The heavy frost at this level made it look as white as if there had been a dusting of snow. Another 15 minutes of easy walking put us up by the familiar cairn marking the very summit of White Coomb 821m.


From my (and also Henry’s) perspective the only factor required to make the view perfect would have been a generous covering of snow. Nevertheless, the thick layer of frost went a long way towards compensating. I reflected on the previous and only other occasion Henry and I had been to this point, which had been in total contrast a fine summer’s day – we had come up with my son Keith on 9th July 2022, the day before his 31st birthday.


The clarity of the vista in terms of the huge distances we could see must surely have been about as good at it gets. We did our best to identify lots of the hills we both knew – myself particularly the Langholm Hills, some 25 miles distant, and from the top of which I had been able to see White Coomb just 2 days earlier... Steven pointed out current old friends visible from his home in Stirling such as his nearest Dumyat, which he had walked up a day or so before, as well as further afield, Ben Vorlich and Ben Ledi – around 80 miles distant! We had bumped into a Langholm acquaintance of mine in the car park that morning and he had said it was possible to see Isle of Man from White Coomb summit. We looked in roughly the right direction – Solway Firth and Criffel were visible – but neither of us could identify Isle of Man with any confidence… however, on checking Walk Highlands Panorama for White Coomb, the Islands highest Hill Snaefell 621m would have been visible, had we known what we were looking for – and some 87 miles distant! And closer to hand, we both identified shared old friends – with the likes of Tinto Hill 18 miles, Broad Law and Ettrick in opposite directions at about 5 miles distant.




At about 2.45pm we regretfully set off down, though we soon stopped again, when Steven pointed out the view down into Moffat Dale, showing classical U shaped former glacial valley, with hanging side valleys. Continuing our circular walk, we were now on terrain familiar to Steven, albeit from summer, when he had descended this way after ascending from Grey Mares Tail side. We descended easily at first to a col at 715m, before a gentle rise to the top of Carrifran Gans 752m. On increasingly steep heathery slopes we followed a fence-line down the spur coming down other side of Carrifran Gans and towards Dun Knowe. As we descended we started to be treated to a spectacular sunset, similarly to descending the steep slopes down off Saddle Yokes 10 months earlier...



About 1km beyond and 150m below Carrifran Gans top we reached the steepest terrain we had been on all day. I had wondered, with ground hard frozen, whether we’d need to break out micro-spikes to descend safely – however the slopes were covered in deep bushy heather and whilst this was awkward and strenuous to descend spikes would not have been helpful - and remained in the back-packs. Steven did however concede to pulling out a pair of astonishingly ultra-high tec and lightweight carbon fibre walking poles from his pack. They kind of unfurled themselves so cleverly they had to have had A.I… and then hey presto he had a stout pair of supports, all ready to safely convey him to the bottom of the slope.


Having successfully negotiated the steepest section, at the late hour of 3.20pm, we recognised we were long overdue a lunch stop. Even Henry hadn’t remembered to remind us. However, assisted by Steven’s fantastic poles, we now found a suitable place to sit comfortably and contemplate further evolutions of the magnificent sunset, peeping around the Saddle Yokes at us – reminding me still more of the sunset coming down off the Saddle Yokes in January, 10 months previously.




Light fading swiftly we continued on easy but pathless ground to near to the bottom of the spur coming all the way down from Carrifran Gans. Still with no obvious path to follow we turned R away from the spur and back into the Wildwood. The terrain was rough and wet in between shrubs and low trees and we picked the best line we could in very low light. After a matter of no more than about 200m we broke out, back on the main path, close to the historic sheepfold. We had now gone full circle. It was about 4pm and so we had taken about 6 hours to get all the way round. We got back to the car by Civil Twilight, so without having to break out the head-torches. I drove Steven back to his car and he was soon on the road back to Stirling – and Henry and I back to Langholm. All in all a cracking day out and I look forward to the next one…