Back to the Mounth!

Tired, and acheing in places I didn't know it was possible to ache - I awoke this morning with that post-hillwalking feeling, which is a combination of pain and satisfaction. Yesterday my wife and I had a memorable stomp acound the White Mounth area of the Cairngorms National Park, which involved four new Munros for her, and a trip down memory lane for us both. In student days in Dundee, which was unbelievably three decades ago, our first walks were in and around the Loch Muick area. The first time we went there, my little Ford Fiesta got stuck in the snow and was pulled out by a friendly local farmer! We went there many times in our first years together, and it's a place full of nostalgia for us. However, the reason we went there yesterday had nothing to do with sentiment - simply that while the rest of Scotland was dissapearing under a blanket of rain, the hills east of Glen Shee were to be assailed with little more than a lively wind.

The car park at the Spittal of Glenmuick now costs the walker five pounds to park in! The Royal Estates must be making more money from that car park than for the whole Duchy Originals operation. To be fair, the estate is ploughing a lot of money back into the land, with large forestry recovery programmes and footpath work throughout the vast miles within its boundaries.

There is always a lovely moment when the view of Loch Muick comes into view, with its dark inky waters framed by the high peaks. There is a path around the periphery of the loch which itself would make a pleasant afternoon walk; and we took the northern side of the loch past the Royals lochside house at Glass-allt-Shiel. Previous visits here have usually been on the way down from (another!) ascent of Lochnagar; but this time we kept on past the royal picnic spot, and pushed up towards the Dubh Loch at the head of the glen. Although I have walked these hills many times - somewhow this stretch had eluded me and one of the reasons for selecting this route was to correct that omission. It's a lonely but rather wonderful spot too, with steep cliffs, dark waters, sandy beaches and a good path that drives high into the wild country.

It reminded me of my own 'Brigadoon moment' in these hills many years ago. In appalling weather, I found myself climbing north out of the very end of Glen Clova. I was cold, wet, tired and possibly hallucinating. As I started to climb up the path towards the bealach looking over into Loch Muick, from the mist there emerged a shooting party returning from their kill. The tweed-clad men with their ancient rifles led a team of horses down the track, and over each one was slung a freshly shot deer. The tweed men, with their extensive moustaches, looked as if they had stepped out of the 1850s. In fact one of them looked uncannily like a painting I had seen of Prince Albert. They offered passing greetings as I strode up the stalkers path, but stared at me oddly. Had they never seen 1990s hillwalking gear before? Just as fast as the fog uncovered them, they dissappeared back into it and were gone. 

No such hallucinations, or holes in the space-time coninuum occured yesterday, just a pathless slog, NW up the heathery slopes towards the high path linking the munros. Càrn a' Choire Bhòidheach waa our first followed by a trudge around the plateau to Càrn an t-Sagairt Mòr. This expansive wide, topped munro is famous for it's aircraft wreckage left since 1952 when an EE Canberra bomber crashed here killing all on board. The twisted metal of a wing and two engines lie bleak and forlorn on the hillside, marking the spot where the crew lost their lives. It's remarkably well preserved and rust-free despite having lain there for seventy years. Rather mournfully it let out a creak as the fierce winds grabbed at it's edges. It was an eerie memorial, perhaps made all the more poignant by the fact that we were there on the day of the Air India crash.

The rocky summit of Cairn Bannoch was next, which in turn led to the great Broad Cairn. Although it was clouding up, much of route was visible below us in between the worst of it. The walk back along the tops above the Dubh Loch and towards Loch Muick is just wonderful, an elevated highway for walking boots, which although being whipped by high winds which impeded progress, afforded exhilirating views down to the loch, Glass-allt--shiel and up to Lochnagar. After the brutal descent to the loch on the zig-zag bulldozed track, it's a long walk out!

My first attempt to climb into the White Mounth was a failure! We made the mistake of trying to take the direct route to Loch Callater from near Baddoch on the A93 (Glen Shee) road, which was a sopping wet quagmire - all peat, water, mud and misery. After sheltering in the bothy by the loch for ages, when we attempted the hill our friend Chubb was literally blown away by the savagely high winds whereupon the whole thing was abandoned. I subsequently returned and cycled up to the loch from Auchallater years later - and this was a more successful attempt. Doing the round from Glen Muick is I think the best of the three routes though. Lochnagar itslef can be added to this round easily enough, although we elected to explore the Dubh Loch for the first time, rather than Lochnagar yet again!

These are big, expansive hills. And we had a great day out - pushing our hill-fitness levels beyond where they were really comfortable. It was good to get a day away with my wife (life has been busy!), and to revisit some much loved scenes from our well-spent youth.  

Back around the Ring of Steall

On a glorious Summer's day, my wife and I drove North - our target for the day, The Mamores. In the classic TV series, "The Munro Show, Muriel Gray said that these are her favourite hills in the whole of Scotland, and I can see why. It's been almost a quarter of century since I walked around the Ring of Steall, and it was my wife's first trip there. We spent a while trying to work out when I'd been there before, and the clue was that in the photos from that day was one Dr Harvey, a Kiwi who worked with my wife for a year at Perth Royal Infirmary in 1998! I probably agree with the redoubtable Ms Gray about these hills, they are really magnificent, with great sculpted ridges, lush glens, incredible views of moors, mountains, glens, lochs, the sea, and rivers and waterfalls - with great access up Glen Nevis and great stalkers paths from glen to peak. I mean really, other than the midgies which lurk in Glen Nevis, these hills are heavenly!

We took the traditional route around the Ring of Steall, parking at the end of the Glen Nevis road, and going through the Nevis Gorge and over the rope bridge at the Grey Mare's Tail before taking  the stalkers path up to An Gearanach - the first Munro of the day and the start of 'the ring'. The four  Munros (it was five, when I first climbed it) form a ring, the last of which lies over the 'devil's ridge' a wonderful little gnarly ridge with a bad step in its centre.

Our problem was carrying enough fluid for a long day in a drought. I carried (and used 4 litres, and my wife 3), and yet still when we reached the River Nevis we were really thristy - it was sweltering. It has been so dry that the air had a whiff of smoke, from big fires burning near Spean Bridge and at Glen Affric.

Last time we made a navigational error on descent, and came down far too far to the east, and over terribly steep ground. This time I was careful to head us NW off Sgurr a Mhaim towards Polldubh. this took us to a delightful riverside track back towards the car, via a footbridge.

The saga of my Munro bagging continues - I still haven't got round to doing the last two I need to complete, but have got further into taking my wife around my favourite walks. This surely is really one of the best - ridge walking at its absolute finest, Breathtaking and wonderful!

Sgùrr a' Mhaoraich

Sgùrr a' Mhaoraich is a wonderful, rocky mountain peak which towers over the waters of Loch Quoich in the western highlands. It is a hill which is perhaps underated because it sits in such a wonderful location, ringed by just as wonderful hills, some of which are more famous than it.

With Ben Nevis and hills around the Great Glen forming the backdrop to the S/E, and the magnificent Knoydart Sjyline outlined to the west beyond Sgurr na Ciche and Glen Dessary, Sgùrr a' Mhaoraich is situated amazingly and like all the hills around this area "one worth saving for a day wth a view".

Unusually neither my wife or I had any work, church or children comittments over the weekend and so legged it to the hills. It's a three hour drive up to the dam at Loch Quoich, but a great one on which the scenery seems to get more impressive in stages as the drive evolves, Drumochter, Loch Laggan, Loch Lochy, Loch Quoich. The view of the western mountains from beyond the Quoich Dam is stunning! 

Sgùrr a' Mhaoraich is accessed from a path which leaves the roadside a Km or so beyond the dam. It's easy to miss the starting opint which is marked by a metal post  but the path goes high onto the ridge and is worth finding. Google streetview is a great bonus in this regard, some frustrating attempts to find the right start point in hillwalks early in my hillkwalking days have largely been eliminated by a quick look online, so that I know exactly what I'm looking for when I arrive.

There are a few parking spots near the start of the path, but I expect that on a summer bank holiday these could fill up quickly. We managed to wedge in to the last available one, and take to the hill. The path ascends quickly, zig-zagging its way under some pylons and up the Bac nan Canaichean ridge to the summit of Sgurr Coire nan Eiricheallach. 

From Sgurr Coire nan Eiricheallach the true magnificence of Sgùrr a' Mhaoraich can be seen, as a gnarly rocky ridge leads along and up to it's fine summit. Traces of a mad dry-stone dyke follow some of the ridge, presumably built by the workers of some landowner trynig to keep sheep from wandering onto another estate. The ridge has some opportunities for scrambling, but also a by-passpath which misses all the obstacles. The hardest part of the wlk is the final pull upto the summit, either up the steep bouldery and grassy banks to the south of the ridge, or up a narrow ledge to the north.

The views are just awe-inspiring.

The walking books say that an awkward descent can be made southwards and the day into a circuit. However, despite it being mid-May temperatures were dropping fast when we summitted, and rain looked imminent - so we returned by way of Sgurr Coire nan Eiricheallach, a fast descent back down the track. The track is not a perfect navigationa guide by the way - it does peter out a few times, and so the walker should keep their wits about them and not just blindly plod on!

The views on the way doen the track, especially of Ben Nevis and Gairich were wonderful. The walkhighlands entry suggests 5-7 hours, (presumably for the circuit), but we did the direct there and back in 4 comfortably. 

I haven't been in the high hills with my wife for quite a while - so this was an especially good day out. Our daughter spent the day deep in revision for her Highers, and our son came back from Dundee that evening, having completed his degree work. Talsiker by the fire on a cold evening seemed a fitting way to end the day!

Meall Tairneachan and Farragon Hill.

The high upland between Aberfeldy and Loch Tummel is dominated by two Corbetts, Meall Tairneachan and Farragon, the latter of which sounds like a character from Tolkein. They are overshadowed somewhat by the vast bulk of Schiehallion immediately to their west, but clearly visible from the summit of Kinnoull Hill - which is our regular afternoon dander. I had heard how wonderful Farragon is from a neighbour who was a great walker and climber, but who sadly (and unexpectedly) passed away a fortnight ago. So, with lockdown preventing us traveling further afield to summit new Munros, and with his words in my memory we decided to attempt these two.

Access from the road, (The B846 - Aberfeldy to Tummel Bridge road), is via the bulldozed track carved up through the forests and onto high ground to serve the Foss Barytes mine. There are spaces to park a few cars around the entrance to the mine road, but the obvious car park is not for the public, and presumably is designed for mine workers. 

The road climbs and zigzags up through dense pine plantations before breaking out just under the top of Meall Damh. From there is swings lift and climbs steeply underneath and parallel to the undulating summit ridge of Meall Tairneachan. A tiny cairn at the height of the road marks the point to leave the road and turn right onto the grassy, heathery slopes of the hill. The ridge has a trig point at its western end, and a cairn at the summit. a km or so to the east. The views are phenomenal - this area provides a unique view of Beinn a Ghlo and Ben Vrackie as well as Schiehallion.

The Barytes mine on the other hand is an eyesore. Bags of lime surround the streams, which are full of white deposits. One of my friends used to be a SEPA inspector up there and told me that the lime precipitates salts which then settle in the lagoons, which we saw dug all around the site. I also read that this site is due to close, as a larger mine (Barytes are used in North Sea drilling) is soon to get planning permission. I wonder whether the miners have to return this landscape to more natural conditions or whether they just leave that to time and nature!

Farragon Hill appears to be miles away from Tairneachan - so far in fact that we doubted we'd manage it. In truth, although a lot of height is lost between the two hills, the traverse (though boggy in places) takes only an hour. The final pull up Farragon is steep, and the summit all the more airy for it. There's a splendid feeling of remoteness there. We only saw one other person all day, and these hills are virtually pathless once the mine road is left behind. Faragon provides views from the Cairngorms to the Paps of Fife, with a thousand hills in between!

The walk out is long, and requires regaining a lot of lost height and bypassing the ugly mine workings before trudging back through the forest. Oh for a bike for the long descent! My late neighbour who recommended this route to me did it in extreme winter conditions, we did it in a nothing more than a chilly wind, but still found it a long, hard day! In my cupboard at home I have a nice bottle of Aberfeldy 12yo, distilled at the foot of these hills. As I rested my aching limbs that evening, I raised glass in recognition of my neighbour, who was a great mountaineer, for a fine recommendation.

Craig Gibbon

I'd heard there was a curious obelisk on the little Perthshire hill of Craig Gibbon, just above the village of Bankfoot - but never found it before. The A9 dualling works north of Perth seem to go on forever, and the slow speed limit interminable. In the middle of those roadworks looking North, there is  range of low gentle hills off to the left. Next to Dunkeld there is Birnam Hill, adjacent to that is Obney Hill. The next hill to the west is Craig Gibbon, separated from Obney by the deep (and rather lovely) Glen Garr. We climbed Obney via Glen Garr last year, and ended up wading through chest-high bracken and thorns before making the lovely summit; opting for the easier route back, direct from the ridge to Balhomish Farm.

For finding Craig Gibbon, I started at the well-used car park at Little Glenshee, by the ford in Sochie Burn. A huge stile crosses the deer-fencing and follows a bulldozed track into the hills, immediately North of the car park. It soon splits into two, the left fork veering steeply into the hillside, while I took the right on past the pretty Tullybelton Loch.

The path meanders on past two lovely ponds, nestling in unlikely positions in the hills - before coming to a T-junction. Here a small walkers signpost points to the right, directing people towards 'Bankfoot'. I turned left, up the hill, alongside a line of ancient trees. The track climbs for a mile or so, trending westwards before meeting another track up on the ridge.

Turning right, I followed this track for a mile or so, along the top towards Craig Gibbon. The obelisk itself is hidden amongst a cluster of trees, on a small hillock to the right of the track. There is a little path that drops down to it, and up through the trees to the obelisk itself. As Corona virus starts to bite into the country, thousands of people are being forced to self-isolate. I didn't need to - although there was air-traffic above me; down at ground level, I didn't see a soul! Deer, small birds singing, and huge birds hunting, were my company all day.

To return to Little Glen Shee, I continued along with high-level track, over Moine Folaich, which doesn't have the quirky little features of the low-level route in; but does provide wonderful expansive views of the surrounding hills, over the massive windfarm at Aberfeldy and onto to snow-capped Schiehallion. Then southwards, way beyond Perth and down to the paps of Fife.

It's not a huge walk - certainly not a high level one; but it was exhilarating to be outdoors, with boots on; in wide-open spaces clear-skies and an icy wind. Marvellous!

Auchnafree Hill

Circumstances combined rather well yesterday to facilitate a great little walk up Auchnafree Hill, a Corbett near Crieff, set amongst delightful scenery. Last Sunday, I took a good friend from Canada around the Glenturret Distillery, for their excellent tour, and saw their photos of Loch Turret, their water supply and thought how good it looked for a walk sometime! Then, less than a week later, with the sun splitting the skies, all our kids busy doing different things - and it being our 23rd wedding anniversary, we drove over the Perth to explore this lovely glen.

Glen Turret is absolutely gorgeous! The number of times I have driven through Crieff, and missed this little gem, in search of 'bigger' scenery is shocking. I think we tend to instinctively overlook what lies close at hand. I grew up in London's suburbs, but didn't really ever visit any of London's great sights which were on my doorstep, like The Tower of London, until showing some friends from the USA around London when I was a student! Likewise, I would never really think of going to Crieff for a day out, it's not very far, and the hills are not huge. Crieff was always a place I would stop for breakfast on my way to Tyndrum, or Glencoe or The Mamores. Well, I've missed out!

Soon after the Glenturret Distillery, a left turn on a tiny road leads N/NW up the glen. The surface soon becomes riddled with massive potholes, and the "10mph" signs, which look ridiculous at the bottom of the road are optimistic further up. It's not a public road, rather its owned by the water board, but they allow cars up, and provide a car park under the dam at the top.

The walk to Auchnafree Hill can be done a number of ways, we followed the lochside track the length of the east shortline, and then took a second track, climbing steeply until just under the summit, where a further track jags left, and then becomes a feint path all the way to the twin cairns. The smaller cairn seems to mark the true summit, but the larger one is a better viewpoint, and this is where we stopped to stare at the mountains all around us - and swat away the millions of flies!

A great circular walk is possible, by staying at high level back over Choinneachean Hill, but the blazing hot sun, and lack of water drove us back to the lochside, for a delightful wander back to the car. Alluring paths led off in all directions, suggesting that there are many more routes to be enjoyed here too.

Bishop's Hill

East and West Lomond, which togther are sometimes known as 'The Paps of Fife', are the most distinctive landmarks in that part of the world. While they both look quite dramatic from some angles, they are remarkably easily to climb from the car park at the head of the pass above Falkland, which separates them. As a result they are extremely busy hills, with the trade-routes up each of them being well-worn and on summer weekends being as busy as Sauchiehall Street.  

Bishop's Hill, is Fife's third hill - and lurks in the shadow of West Lomond, it's bigger brother. Despite this, it is well worth a climb, for its expansive views, sense of remoteness and sense of remoteness from people - as there are virtually none up there!

The kirk in the village of Scotlandwell allow use of their car park for hillwalkers, with the proviso that Sunday mornings, and any other events such as weddings and funerals are avoided - which seems more than reasonable! A hundred yards or so southwards along the road from the kirk, a signposted track leads away from the road and twists and turns its way up the flanks of Bishop's Hill. There are in fact, many more paths on the ground than the OS show, even on their detailed 1:25,000 map of the area. There is a lower path which goes left through the woods - and the ascent path which veers to the right, before a series of zig-zags. I went right, and once through the tree-line, was rewarded very quickly with wonderful view out over Loch Leven and beyond.

The climb is probably the best part of Bishop's Hill, as the summit area is vast, boggy, grassy and hummocky - and is crossed by a dizzying network of paths which seem to lead in all directions. Navigation across this in bad conditions could be an entertaining proposition. A more significant path traverses the hill, which follows an old stone wall. The summit lies beyond this, a lovely view point, about 400m higher than the car-park. Sadly I was faced with a dreich, misty, cold day - and didn't linger long.

A return by the same route would be easy, but a more interesting prospect is to head along the top towards Glen Lomond (the rift that separates Bishop's Hill from West Lomond and which contains the geological feature known as John Knox's pulpit). Dropping down into Glen Lomond is steep - but pathed, and then a return track winds back towards the starting point underneath the cliffs of Bishop's Hill.

The return track seems to peter out, midway back along the journey, only to reappear further along - above the village of Kinneswood. I had to pick my way through a few fields (occupied only by sheep), and through several very aggressive thorn bushes to progress. Once the track re-appears it meets up with the track back down to Scotlandwell, just underneath the zig-zags of the ascent route.

All in all, this makes for about a 3.5/4 hr circuit of most enjoyable countryside, with great views and a good bit of exercise on the surprisingly challenging ascent.

(W & E Lomond from Bishop's Hill)

Croagh Patrick - Ireland's 'Holy Mountain'

Croagh Patrick is billed as "Ireland's Holy Mountain", as its' summit is the setting for the legend of St Patrick casting all the snakes from Ireland. It is also the scene of some of the most unholy footpath erosion in the Western World. The great hill-engineers of Scotland's Cairngorm National Park should be seconded to Ireland for a month or two to sort this out, before the whole thing turns into a hideous channel of mud and scree! Or - perhaps if Patrick could be persuaded to make a comeback he could cast all the scree out, and leave walkers with a navigable surface!

Apparently, for Roman Catholics, Croagh Patrick is not just a hillwalk, but also a site of pilgrimage which explains the various shrines dotting the ascent route, and the toilet block halfway up! Very keen Catholics, who believe that acts of contrition contribute to God's willingness to forgive sin are known to climb the hill barefoot to facilitate this. We didn't know about this when we climbed Croagh Patrick, and so when we spotted a barefoot pilgrim working his way up the hill, my younger son called out, "Hobbit!!!", much to the amusement of the pilgrim's two suitably-shoe'd companions.

The views from the top should have been magnificent, but sadly we were offered little more than thick cloud, and a gentle soaking of Irish Rain. 

A Chralaig & Mullach Fraoch-Choire

After a lovely day-off, wandering about in Plockton and reading, I had one day left to enjoy the hills. The weather forecast, however, was rather discouraging! In fact the forecast strongly suggested that I abandon the exercise and go for something in the drier East of the country. I had a map of the Monadliath with me, and was tempted to walk there on my way home. I decided against that, simply because the hills of The Monadliath are within easy reach of home, whereas time spent up in Kintail was a scarce resource I could not afford to squander! Instead I elected to have a go at the two hills in the Cluanie Inn area which I had yet to ascend: A' Chralaig and Mullach Fraoch-choire.

The access point for these hills is via the same gate in the fence on the main road by Loch Cluanie as the dreaded An Caorann Mor path, from the Cluanie Inn to Glen Affric. After less than fifty yards on that track, by a tiny little cairn, a path veers to the right and climbs very steeply up the shoulder of A'Chralaig's South ridge, labelled as Fuaran Mor Chluainidh on the OS map. The path is steep, wet and slippery. In places it is like a less-well used version of the steep pull from Crianlarich up Ben More. After about 700m, the ridge both narrows and the gradient eases off - and really enjoyable day of ridge walking commences.

The weather forecast was a bit grim so I took the precaution of starting my walk fully Goretexed, awaiting the promised rain. By the time I made the ridge I was absolutely cooking and had to start shedding layers. The forecast seemed reasonable enough, it was cold and cloudy and a downpour felt imminent. Cloud was blowing around in the wind when I reached the summit of A'Chralaig, an airy place crowned with a cairn the size of a lighthouse. Someone has spent a huge amount of time and effort up there building it,

it made a nice place to sit and have breakfast, but I couldn't help wondering why they had bothered going to such great lengths in so remote a spot!

The route between the Munro's is simple enough - follow the ridge Northwards to a subsidiary top, and turn eastwards, then follow the curving ridge as it turns back Northwards over an ever narrowing ridge to the peak of Mullach Fraoch-Coire. The top in the centre of this ridge, Stob Coire na Craileig is a fine little mountain in its own right, shapely, steep-sided and featuring a nice little summit with a cairn. It was on this top that I had a wonderful surprise... instead of the expected rain showers, the cloud lifted, the sky turned blue and the whole ridge was exposed! Then the cloud seemed to evaporate from all the adjacent mountains too - providing breathtaking vistas of many of the ridges I had climbed over the preceding days.

As I made my way along the ridge I was uncertain as to the best route off. The books suggested that the best route was to completely retrace my steps over A'Chralaig, but the ascent path up the front of the hill was extremely slippery and I really didn't fancy it. Furthermore, this was my last walk before heading home and I was in a hurry. I hadn't seen my family for four days and was anxious to get going. I had started walked before 7am, with the thought that I could do a days walking and be back for tea, or better still to collect my daughter from school! Different walking books recommend different quick-ways down off the ridge, pointing walkers either to go westwards from the ridge's lowest point either North or South of the top called Stob Coire na Craileig. The first option didn't look promising, however there is a bit of a path heading down through the scree between Stob Coire na Craileig and Mullach Fraoch-Choire - so I elected to use that on my way down.

Mullach Fraoch-Choire is a delight! The ridge to the summit contains a series of lovely pinnacles which can be climbed or circumvented. A path winds its way in and out of these rocky spines, crossing the ridge several times and winding along some fiendish ledges that look like part of the set from Lord of the Rings. It wouldn't be hard to imagine Gandalf himself beckoning walkers along these paths. For a bit of added excitement, in several places these ledge-paths appear to be slumping away from the side of the mountain, and should be used cautiously, especially after heavy rain.

My early start (and weekday walk) meant that I saw no-one on these hills at all - I had this vast, beautiful playground all to myself it seemed. The second Munro summit meant time to stop, and fuel up with some food and drink before picking the descent path back down to the An Caorann Mor track, the car and home. And I was back in time to get my daughter from school!

These two are absolutely splendid mountains, beautiful, with stunning views and lovely features. They are right by the road, and easily accessible too. Both of them can be comfortably climbed by the route described, and be back at the car in around 5 hours. If you are a hillwalker who is new to Kintail and are wondering where to start - I'd suggest these. They are tremendous introduction to a great area of The Scottish Highlands!

Carn an Righ and Beinn Iutharn Mhor

I've heard many people complaining that Spring in Scotland this year keeps providing us with "all four seasons in one day". That may be the case down in the cities, but high on the remote mountains of the Cairngorms National Park today I encountered only one: Winter. Thankfully I had checked the Mountain Weather Information Service last night, and so packed all my winter walking gear, thermals, hats, gloves, full Winter waterproofs, and extra layers. The MWIS often errs on the side of caution in its estimation of weather severity, but they were spot on with their warnings of high winds, hail, sleet and sub-zero temperatures. All of these assaulted me in succession all day long, making the completion of what should have been a simple round into a significant challenge.

These hills are often approached from Deeside to the North by means of Glen Ey, but  I decided to reach them from The Spittal of Glenshee to their South East. Parking up by the old stone bridge at the Spittal, I was shocked by the sight of the charred ruins of the Hotel/restaurant complex which once dominated the hamlet. Externally it was never a beautiful building, while inside it was designed to cater for the coach-tour market with garish tartan carpets and shortbread for sale by the metric tonne. Despite this, it was always a place to stop en route to Braemar and fill up with coffee. The mangled and blackened remains of what was once a little hive of activity was a forlorn sight indeed.

The Shee Water is a substantial river which flows South-Easterly out from these hills, feeding into the great River Ericht further downstream. At The Spittal it has tracks running up both its banks. The West bank has a road which leads up to the Dalmunzie House Hotel, which is an impressive Victorian pile tucked away in the hills. I began my day cycling along the track on the other bank, which climbs steadily up Glen Shee, and then turns Northwards into Gleann Taitneach.

Looking back towards The Spittal of Glenshee

The high winds funnelled down the glen into my face, making progress very difficult and very slow indeed. I dumped my bike just before the end of the bulldozed track, and followed the scratchy path up the river past a series of waterfalls. The battle against the wind didn't detract from the beauty of the great glacial formations through which I was travelling. The flat, plateau-like summits were decorated with ice, which were a reminder of the great ice movements which scoured out this flat-bottomed glen tens of thousands of years ago. Rather disturbingly, I found myself singing, Flat-bottomed-glens you make the rockin' world go round!, perhaps imagining what might have transpired had Freddie studied Geography instead of art... 

The Allt Easgaidh is the outflow of the Loch nan Eun, a magnificent little loch tucked high in the mountains at the head of a lonely glen. It is so lonely up there that I didn't set eyes on a soul all day - the only evidence of other humans were three mountain bikes locked together by the side of the track. One of the many curious complexities of my personality is that when surrounded by noise, people, busyness and housework I find myself longing to be alone in the hills, experiencing real isolation and alone-ness; yet when I get there I so often wish that it was possible to share this experience with someone.

From the western corner of the loch, in driving snow and poor visibility (the above photo was taken on my way back down!) I struck South-Westerly in seach of the stalkers path that would skirt the obstacle of Mam nan Cairn, and lead me to the slopes of Carn an Righ. Despite the snow, the path soon appeared to my right, and I crossed the boggy, snowy and tussocky ground to gain it and half an hour later it brought me to the foot of the hill. The OS Map has the path turning Northwards past spotheight 771 on the 1:25000 map. However, in practice it bifurcates, the right hand fork being as shown on the map, and an unrecorded path heading for the mountain. It's a tough slog from the col at 771m to the summit, marked as 1029 (although bizarrely my GPS thought it was higher than that!), which was make infinitely worse by the deteriorating weather. The snow underfoot made going hard, but the biggest issue was the icy, driving wind which was relentless and hard to manage. Thankfully at the summit cairn a small dry-stone wall has been constructed which provided some shelter, but even here it was a struggle to put on my extra layer, and read the map.

I had decided to abandon the walk at this point and simply retrace my steps. I knew that once in the shelter of the valley-floor I'd get some respite from the Arctic-blast, and thought that the tops were becoming unsafe. Happily however as I made the col, the weather changed, the wind and snow dropped, and the route across the Mam nan Cairn to Beinn Iutharn Mhor appeared. It looked too tempting to miss, and so I began the climb. I took too low a traverse around Mam nan Cairn and ended up pulling myself up a very steep climb to the ridge through snow deep enough to make my knees and leg muscles burn. Once on the ridge, the pull up to the summit of Beinn Iutharn Mhor was hard, but satisfying. The views were magnificent however!

Carn an Righ from Beinn Iutharn Mhor

Descending around through the gap between Beinn Iutharn Beag and Mam nan Cairn, it was a wet and slippery descent to the loch, around to its outflow, and back alongside the river to my waiting bike, and the long pedal home. 

Descending to the Loch nan Eun

Looking through my photos I realise that they are rather unrepresentative of the day. They were all taken in the few minutes when the sun shone. For most of the time, the little camera was zipped tightly into my rucksack, because of the conditions - and this is the last day of April! Putting the route on the computer tonight, I was astonished to find that it was only 20 Miles - I feel as if I have done twice that!

Eddie Cadman: Royal Engineers 1939-1945

I spent some of today searching for some missing keys. Inevitably they were inside the shed which was locked securely! What I initially found instead of keys during my scouring the house, was a large dusty green folder which I haven't set eyes on for decades.

The dark green "Surrey County Council" folder contained my Grandpa's medals from WWII, and a series of photos he brought back from the end of that war.

Some of the photos are unmarked, while several of them contain his comments in very faded ink, on the reverse side. The captions read things like, "Some of my mates", or ""Keil from the power station" describing a view of a war-torn occupied German city. Where comments appear, I have put these under the image, and where the ink is very faded I have also typed out what he wrote.

This appears to be an earlier photo, possibly taken on enlistment into the Army.

While the other campaign medals and stars are definitely his, and are well-known campaign medals, I am not sure about this last one. If anyone knows what this badge/brooch is, I'd be grateful if you could let me know.

My Grandma served in the Women's Auxilliary Air Force, before my Mum was born in 1943.

For the Royal Engineers, duties changed at the end of the war, once the Third Reich had fallen. The tasks of driving an army forwards over new bridges, and along new roads was replaced with many hours of guard duty. These young SS trainees were held by my Grandpa's unit in 1945. He later remarked that guarding Italian POW's in Scotland was much more fun, because while the young Germans were ideologically motivated and determined to cause problems; the Italian POWs were happy to sit in Scotland playing cards, cursing Mussolini and waiting for the war to end.