After many changes to the list of participants three club members and a guest teamed up at the Spittal of Muick car park at 11.45 pm for the start of a midsummer ascent of Lochnagar overnight June 18/19th. Prospects for success were not good, with the weather forecast having consistently been predicting a cloud-capped summit, air temperature of 3C and winds of 35 mph giving a wind chill of -7C. But weather forecasts have been known to be “wrong”.

At the car park conditions were OK, cloudy for sure, but not too cold nor windy, and a cuckoo was singing merrily. Fingers were crossed as we strode out along the shortest 5km route to Glass Allt Shiel (White Water Shelter). Already after 01.00 Brisith Summertime in theory the sun was now on the rise somewhere behind the clouds and below the horizon. The granite front doorstep of Her Majesty’s property (a very fine “shelter”) was sufficiently wide to provide us all a good seat for a snack but with overcast skies and trees around it was necessary to fire up the head torches. In such a sheltered location the midges eventually got word of our presence and came for their own nourishment – it was time for us to move on.

Now it was uphill with 700 metres of vertical ascent to the summit. Head torches highlighted the often-rough path ahead whilst all around was bathed in black darkness. The Glass Allt waterfall, normally a picturesque minor off-path diversion was not considered worthwhile, particularly as water levels were low after a long spell of no significant rain. After another refreshment break the recently rebuilt path at the top of the falls was reached and proved easier going and we soon arrived at the bridge. Now the cloudy sky showed a few lumens of brightness, and just an occasional break disclosed an attractive pale blue sky beyond, but the lowest clouds were skidding by at a good rate of knots. As we looked up the glen cloud enveloped the horizon. It would appear that the weather forecast was probably turning out to be fairly accurate.

We decided to poke our noses a bit further up the glen to get a closer look at conditions at the higher levels and anticipate what it might be like across the plateau of 1000m elevation for at least 1km to the summit of Lochnagar. At 780 metre elevation, 2.5km from the summit it became abundantly clear that the summit and a good stretch leading to it would be windswept and fully in the clouod resulting in us having a very uncomfortable view only of water droplets, which we all had seen many times before!!! The decision was made to turn around.

On the descent, the still overcast sky gradually took on a lighter shade, enough to give us a unique view of Loch Muick’ southern beaches. So attractive were they we decided not to return the way we had come, but rather complete the full circuit of the loch. Back at loch level. Much as our otward leg, wthe weather was quite acceptable, and we had a vista to the north northeast. At 4.18am, official sunrise, we spotted some pink shading on some of the clouds, but nothing more. The increasing dawn light did allow us to see a large number of red deer at various places along our return track, and even a group of fifteen or so within 100 metres of the car park, stags with two feet of velvety antler, the fastest growing bone structure in the animal kingdom.

The summit goal had not been achieved, but by including the complete circuit of the loch, the walk extended to 17km in the uncustomary and invigorating light of dawn. Not a bad start to the day.

It was a short drive to Blair Atholl and with the car parked, boots on, packs loaded up with dry clothes, sleeping bag, tent (in case the Bothy was full), food, drinks, toiletries, medications, first aid kit………. and each participant with a glitzy bottle-of-wine gift bag full of coal it was time to start the walk. Pack weight? 10-12Kg plus, time was around 4.00pm, though actual time wasn’t that important as we didn’t have to be back at any time that day. First part of the 9km to the Allt Sheicheachan bothy (Allt S for short) was through verdant pastures and mellow woodlands of Old Blair, a suburb of Blair Atholl (if Blair Atholl is large enough to have a suburb). Our attempt at self-inviting to a mouthwatering family lawn BBQ, was brushed off indifferently by the host, so we continued to enjoy the fresh Spring life of the woodlands in Spring.

But soon we left the trees behind and had 6km of moorland track, a relentless gradual uphill often with disheartening views of the next two to three kilometres of track reduced literally one step at a time. The weather was following the forecast, windy (but not oppressively so) and occasionally long showers of rain, all associated with a weather system that had originated off the Yucatan Peninsula in the western Caribbean and had dumped a shed-load of rain over southern Florida and Cuba, with unfortunately some fatalities. Thankfully on its journey across the Pond, it had morphed into a normal September Atlantic depression (in June!!).

Slightly damp around the edges we arrived at Allt S, a simple Bothy looking drab under grey skies and drizzle, but once through the front door looked very welcoming, dry, extremely clean and tidy, a fireplace and just room to sleep four on sleeping benches. Further investigation revealed a second half to the Bothy used as a storeroom (building tools) and a boarded loft offering a nice dry floor accessible by a very dogy step ladder. Priorities were to light the fire, easily done as we’d brought kindling, and the crackling coal was soon warming up the small room, whilst boiled water made a good brew. Stories were told, topics discussed, and the world’s problems almost solved, the clock whizzed by to 11pm, and by 11.30, with all the coal now in ashes it was time for a good sleep, three in the warm room, one in the spacious, but cold and very dark, floored loft.

Awakening after seven hours of non-continuous sleep revealed a sky with patches of blue and the call of the cuckoo (which had also been heard cuckooing in flight as it passed the bothy at 3.00am). Breakfast was another carb booster of hot porridge (with various additives) and coffee, then the big sort-out of what to leave in the Bothy (to be picked up on our return late in the day), and what was needed in the pack for the 22km circular of Bean Dearg (M) at 1008m and the Corgett (and only 2m short of a Munro) Beinn Bhreac, 912m. Whatever was loaded up the packs were very pleasantly lighter than the previous day. As we left a guy appeared with a vague plan to summit Beinn Dearg but with a separate plan to fly his drone. Thus, it was 5 minutes along our northbound track a drone appeared sounding like a swarm of mosquitoes and made aerial manoeuvres that could have resembled a welcoming hand wave. We waved back and the done buzzed back from whence it had come. The track soon turned into a path that had a more or less northerly course all the way to Bean Dearg. But navigation was needed to avoid being tempted by other, less steep paths, heading to destinations other than the Munro. The sun was hot, the showers were cold and wet, but the going was steady, and after a fairly long boulder section we reached the Munro summit just after the wind got up, the cloud came down and it rained. We had to seek shelter in a big hollow in the boulder field in the lee of the summit for some nourishment.

Through lunch and breaks in the cloud we visually identified Beinn Breac and snatched a bearing. Heading off in that direction we son dropped below cloud level and from then had a good visual on our next goal, but navigation was a continual process as we dropped 330 metres to cross a burn, some peat hags and head up the Corbett with no sign of any path. The wind dropped at lower elevation and a good lunch was had ready for the 240 metres of ascent. Beinn Bhreac summit weather was kind and allowed us to stop and admire distant views, the unknown western view of An Sgarsoch only 6km to the east (and accessible from Linn of Dee) and to the northeast the upper reaches of Glen Feshie and beyond to what we imagined was Beinn Bhrotain, or perhaps Cairn Toul or Angles Peak. Our location was a remote spot, the nearest metalled road, the A9 16 km to the south (from where we had started), 22km to the east and northwest, 28 km due north to Aviemore. Linn of Dee 22km to the ENE, Glenshee A93 28 km to the east and nearly 50 km northeast to Cockbridge/Corgarff Castle.

Despite the remoteness as we came off the Corbett summit, we bumped into a group of three walkers and one being well known to us. But after lingering briefly to marvel at the chance of such an encounter It was time to head back to the Bothy by a challenging alternative route that took us back down to another burn crossing, and a loooooong stretch of wet/peat hag tussocky ground that could have come from another (hostile) planet. Gradients were gradual, distances long but eventually we dropped down on an old stalkers path through the impressive gorge of the Allt Bein Losgarnaich burn to land in the very different broad, glacial Glen Bruar, and its impressive (from a distance) Bruar Lodge, all part of the Blair Atholl estate. Another small up/down and we were back at the Bothy, now with two robust mountain bikes leaning against the outside picnic table. The sun was shining more than 50% of the time, so a late lunch was cooked (that, with much gratitude, included a time of baked beans and sausages left in the bothy by previous visitors). The clock ticked and it was necessary to shove all remaining possessions back into the pack for the mainly downhill long slog back to the parked car. It seemed to take forever, two girls on the mountain bikes zoomed past us and a brief but heavy shower nearly persuaded us to bring out the waterproofs, but we in hindsight, correctly resisted, and by 4.00pm we were back at the car.

A great couple of days amongst very remote hills with 40km walked and 1448 metres of vertical ascent.

Fourteen Club walkers made the long journey to the Cruachan Inn at Loch Awe for the first Long Weekend of 2022. The weather along the way on Friday was not particularly favourable for hill bagging but unconfirmed reports indicate that Beinn Lui was summited, whilst it is known others abandoned other Munro attempts at the base level car park due to strong winds.

However, the forecasts for the two main days, Saturday and Sunday were significantly better, predicting relatively gentle NW winds, summit temperatures around 5C and a 10-20% of light showers.

The Ben Cruachan Inn, at which we had booked all rooms/apartments except one gave, us all a good dunner on the day of arrival, friendly bar service and some useful advice about walking the Munros (both days) from the front door of the hotel, leaving vehicles parked for two days- that must be unique.

So after a heaty cooked breakfast Saturday three groups set off, one planning the standard Cruachan Horseshoe (two Munros), one group (from the Inn front door thus some extra km) adding an additional hill to the start of the horseshoe and a Corbett at the end (and some extra “front door” miles), and a third small group heading up to the Cruachan Dam. The weather proved slightly better than forecast with less wind making it feel quite warm and only minor threats of showers, pretty perfect walking weather. The Cruachan Ridge offered splendid panoramic views in crystal clear visibility. The two Munro groups, by chance, met up on a couple of summits and had a very convivial lunch together.

On the Sunday, the “front door” group tackled the other two Munros further east, colloquially known as Chocolate and Eunice. The weather reflected the forecast well, and this day was a bit windier, shelter needed to be sought on the summits and waterproofs were donned and doffed a few times, but still very pleasant walking weather. Other groups drive further afield to pick off various hills scattered around Loch Awe. Opportunities were also taken to visit the nearby town of Taynuilt and to head inside Ben Cruachan Mountain by taking a tourist trip to the “ pumped-storage hydroelectric power station”, an impressive feat of engineering, in many ways, that has actually gained in importance during its 50+ years of functioning and we head into the variable power generation resulting from solar and wind renewables..

Monday was return-home day, but some club members travelled elsewhere for another day or so of hill bagging whilst some bagged a few on the way home, on a day with a fraction more wind, and heavier showers even falling as hail.

The following is the list of Munro/Corbetts summited.

MUNROs
Beinn Cruachan 1126m
Stob Daimph 994m
Beinn a' Chochuill 980m
Beinn Eunaich 989m
Beinn Sgulaird 937m
Beinn Fhionnlaidh 958m
Ben Lui 1130m
Beinn Achaladair 1038m
Beinn a'Chreachain 1081m
Beinn Bhuidhe 948m

Main Walk - Jock's Road

Our first outing by bus since 2019, it was exciting to get back to undertaking a long linear walk. Eleven walkers set of from Auchallater to traverse Jock’s Road, although amended from Jock’s original route due to recent storm damage and the usual route through Glen Doll forest being impassable.

The weather was overcast with cloud lingering on the summits though with a more hopeful forecast for clear tops as the day was to progress.

Good progress was made, and as we approached Lochcallater Lodge we paused to listen to a willow warbler. Shortly afterwards our first refreshments of the day were taken overlooking the Loch and watching sandpipers on the foreshore. It became apparent that the midge season has now commenced.

Pressing on, the east bank of Loch Callater was pleasantly dry so good progress was made though with a slight pause to observe a whooper swan on the loch. As we ascended from the glen towards Tolmount we discovered a great example of a fossilised tree preserved in the peat hags which had relatively recently become exposed. It was suggested that this was possibly originally alive up to 6000 years ago.

Reaching the bealach, we paused for lunch then set out to traverse the featureless plateau to reach the summit of Crow Craigies at 920m, taking time for a group photo. Continuing south on a surprisingly good path, we then turned easterly past the Craigs of Loch Esk to pass above Loch Esk and down the Glittering Skellies.

Reaching Bachnagairn wood, we paused for our final stop of the day before continuing our descent to Moulzie though taking our time to look for any eagles which are frequently visible here though not today.

The impact of the recent storms was visibly apparent on nearing the Glen doll forest with thousands of trees both uprooted and a significant proportion snapped.

We reached our destination after 8 hours on the hills and having walked 24 kilometres.

Saunter - Panninich Hill

The offer of a car share from Peter was quickly accepted and it resulted in a very pleasant journey to Cambus o’ May enlivened by the sight of two red squirrels dashing along on the road at Inchmarlo. Is there another animal with less road sense that red squirrels? We were first arrivals in the empty car park but we just had time to open the doors before Judith and Brenda with Dorothy arrived and we’d just finished lacing our boots when the bus pulled into the carpark. Perfect timing all round.

We’d hardly had long enough to warm the seats, or with this bus being so luxurious perhaps the seats were warming us. We were shortly decanted in Ballater where there was an almost oppressive silence, no traffic, surprisingly no dog walkers and still air; but then Aberdeen hadn’t been all that lively when we left. Photographs and selfies on the bridge made for an (almost) party atmosphere before the serious business of taking to the countryside. The walker hereabouts is well provided for, well surfaced tracks, signposts and features in the landscape that are hard to ignore. That, I suspect was and still is the purpose of the large Mackenzie Memorial that looms large and dominates the area giving a good view of the caravan and camping site by the river.

Sir Allan Russell MacKenzie, 1850-1906, was the 2nd Baronet of Glen Muick and although information about him is hard to find he must have impressed the Ballater folk enough with his financial support to local causes for the ‘come and rest’ seat memorial to be built.

The path winds through the birch wood and onto a recently improved forest road giving access to forestry that will be felled and also to the many trees that Storm Arwen toppled. Our way was clear and despite the lack of recent rain and the low level of the Dee the path was very wet and soggy and we shortly emerged from the forest above the back of the policies of the House of Glen Muick now offering self-catering accommodation and the usual mix of hunting, shooting and fishing. As we didn’t require any self-catering and no one expressed an interest in field sports we set off up the steep hill in a slow and steady fashion generating a lot of heat the still air offering little in the way of cooling. There was nothing for it but to ‘cast a cloot’ or two. I certainly felt over-dressed and the assembled company reminded me of the saying “men perspire, horses sweat and ladies glow”, well, there was a lot of glowing going on.

We were soon immersed in the clammy mist but the way was clear enough skirting the summit of Pannanich Hill. Nobody demurred at not visiting this hill top as we’d all been there before and in any case the view from where we stood would have been the same as the one from the top and anyway another summit lay ahead. Our priority now was to have a much-needed fly cup and a fine piece to catch our breath after the arduous ascent. Time passed but the mist clung on to the hillside slowly drifting in on a slight breeze not doing the visibility any good at all. To be sure of gaining the aforementioned summit a compass bearing was taken; I’m sure it was correct but we managed to saunter off the line and a short off track correction was needed to gain the summit of Corrienearn at 578 m.. Here the mist began to be patchy and shortly cleared away revealing the excellent views all round from the immaculately tended fields of farms at Tullich below us to the still snowy Cairngorms in the west. The clearance also gave us plenty of warning of approaching cyclists and to give them a sight of us I’d draped myself in a hi-vis vest and hat. Several cyclists passed us, most of them while we were lunching well off the path.

After lunch the we made our way carefully down the final steeper part of Bellamore Craig over bare, rough red granite slabs after stopping at the rocking stone to test its fine balance and even after c12,000 years it’s still as advertised! We carried on downhill into the forest and easily picked our way past fallen trees to the South Deeside Road that we crossed and linked up paths that joined the track beside the Dee. The variation in countryside that this walk gives access to continued as we trod the well-maintained track with trimmed vegetation and freshly planted saplings looking rather desiccated in their plastic tubes. All this husbandry is for the benefit of piscatorians including the brand new ‘Fergie’s Hut’ that we stopped to inspect. Easily done as glass doors revealed the empty claret crate and not so empty whisky bottles that must have softened the disappointment of the one that got away.

Shortly the white metalwork of the Cambus o’ May bridge appeared round a bend in the river and we were back on North Deeside and in the brief walk to the car park passed more visitors than we’d seen all day. Refreshments were taken al fresco at the Courie Courie Bakery and Café, well worth a stop, good cakes etc and a lovely outdoor sitting area.

Main Walk - Hunt Hill (705m) & Wester Skuiley (736m)

Culter Hillwalking Club’s Sunday April 3rd walk was targeted at Hunt Hill (703m) at the head of Glen Esk. Ten walkers set off at a brisk rate from the fairly empty car park at Invermark along Loch Lee in glorious Spring sunshine, though the air was chilly. A couple of greylag geese were spotted close by the track, and some swans on the water. It did not take long to pass beyond the lock and reach the footbridge over the Waters of Lee, where a refreshment break was certainly called for. Fuelled up the walk took on a more strenuous form, a hard transverse haul up the eastern flanks of Hunt Hill picking up deer tracks and swathers of grass ground cover, far easier to walk in than the predominant heather. Once standing atop the precipitous Bruntwood Craig views down to Loch Lee began to evolve, though the sun was beginning to fade behind thickening cloud. A deviation westward away from the path reached the rather flat and insignificant summit of Hunt Hill which allowed us views of distant snow-clad summits.

Contours forced us down, and up again, often off path, before we reached the dilapidated footbridge just upstream from the Falls of Damff. With missing handrails and transverse deck timbers the bridge has deteriorated quite badly over the last 3 years and the gaps in the deck, and the drop below, were a little unsettling. But we all crossed over, some with caution, and found a suitable dry spot to sit a while and take in some refreshments. The cloud was thickening from the west in line with a weather forecast of precipitation by 3.00pm. A mountain path took us over Carn Lick, 682m to Wester Shuiley, another flat mound but the altitude at 736m, was the highest of the day. The sky was overcast and the wind was increasingly chilly so additional clothing was pulled out the packs, just as ice pellets began to fall, nine minutes ahead of the weather forecast 15.00 hours commencement. A brief hike across the top at a bearing of 140 degrees put us at the headwaters of the river Effock, a trickle, often underground, amongst grassy banks, making easy walking.

The snow pellets were continuous though not heavy and there was some shelter from the wind as the Effock Burn carved its way through the impressive rocky terrain to be in a steep sided, valley. We followed deer tracks and our own common sense to find a route, down and down admiring the cataracts and waterfalls of this rarely visited glen, till the topography levelled off on the boggy grassland of a long extinct glacial lake. On the level a quick romp followed quad bike tracks then a proper farm track to the confluence of the Effock and Lee where we turned up the glen to make our way back on tarmac, over the Water Filter station footbridge and to the parked cars. 25km walked with just under 900 metres of vertical ascent made for a good day out.

Saunter - Badalair (536m) with Hill of Rowan (380m)

Another Saunter Sunday and another fine day with an easy, quiet run down to Glen Esk and apart from a near miss from a passing Tesco delivery van we all assembled in the well-equipped Tarfside car park; toilets, information panels, a bench and an adjacent free to use campsite, surely the acme of tourist provision but, as far as I could tell, no tourists. The pleasure of easy parking in a beautiful Scottish glen for me easily outweighs the trials and tribulations of international travel at Easter time.

Leaving the village of Tarfside is quick, one house, over the bridge and it’s left behind but the roadside buildings, I came to realise later are, just the tip of the iceberg that the community was at one time. More observations on this to follow.

Respectably separated from the village is the episcopal church of St Drostan, well known in these parts for introducing Christianity to the North East of Scotland. It’s a solid gothic granite building, its meticulous ashlar blocks reflecting the power and wealth of Lord Forbes who had the church built in 1879 to the memory of his brother Alexander, Bishop of Brechin.

Now, to the walk. Firstly, to the summit of the Hill of Rowan standing above the rough and stony moor with its ugly monumental tower to the family of the 11th Earl of Dalhousie. This pile lours over the surrounding countryside as many similar structures do ostensibly to memorialise landowning individuals or families but in reality, they are like Lenin’s Tomb, to remind lesser mortals who’s in charge hereabouts. Nevertheless, we found the tower a welcome wind break and a builder’s plank served as a comfortable bench for our fly cup before returning to the glen where the landscape was transformed. The heath and heather were replaced by grass and pasture, the springy turf a delight to walk on and while we remained to be convinced that Spring had sprung the lapwings were showing off to each other, ducking and diving in their mating displays.

Around us now where the remains of long vacated settlements clearly showing the small fields, outlines of barely recognisable cottages and tumbled down grain drying kilns all evidence that so many people had lived and passed this way long before our appearance on the scene. The paths we followed, shaded by old birch trees were tracks forgotten by the four-wheel drive fraternity as we passed over a bealach and down into the broad valley of the Tarf where we spent a moment or two reassuring the local farmer that yes, we would shut the gate behind us.

At this point the most serious saunterer, with a knee problem, decided to return to the car Park the short way, via the track to Milton Cottage and onto to Milton Farm, where it met the road, A tranquil dander to the sound of curlews all the way.

Everyone else carried on en route, again a faint line in the moor wound its way obligingly gently upwards and we settled down to take lunch surrounded by more extensive ruins of farming settlements. Here there must have been a large community, likely self-sufficient with blacksmith, farriers and other trades to meet their needs working the extensive fertile land. This, I thought was the body of the iceberg providing the wherewithal to support the roadside village that in turn had the school, post office and shops now all passed into history.

Lunch taken and with the westerly wind threatening we set off up the track to Badalair. This old route followed the contours of the land winding back and forth to find the easiest way over the stony hillside and onto the shoulder where Mount Keen came into view looking north-ish while west-ish Loch Lee filled its valley. (Apologies for the vagueness in this part of the description but it is a Saunterer’s Report!)

For most of the walk we’d been shadowed by Mount Battock looking very rakish with an elegant snow cap but it was now behind us as we began the long descent down to Glen Esk though the farmyard at Achronie alive with spaniels two black and white, one chocolate brown and a lithe collie dog puppy making its way in its new world. The farmer was there as well surveying his handiwork; a pile of freshly cut and cleaved birch logs not too disappointed that Storm Arwen had toppled a few trees and him with a hungry fire to feed.

Down to the road and still an hour to go back over the track to reach the car park now in the rain, gentle at first, the freshly wetted ground raising that unforgettable scent of water on dry soil. Not everybody was regretting the rain. As I passed over the Tarf bridge there was the Tarfside duck, starkly white with yellow beak against the black rock beside the rushing river. Susie and I had seen him/her before again on a rainy afternoon when we did a quick recce of the start of the walk. It was good to meet the regulars of Tarfside again.

Happily postponed from February on account of unknown tree damage (and yes there was some), we had a beautiful day out among the lesser hills of the Angus Glens.

At a mere 516m, Hare Cairn is a Sub2000er, a Marilyn, a Dodd, a Highland Five, a Hump and a Tump, and therefore presumably collectable – the voie normale is a typical up and down the shortest possible route from the carpark, so you can collect another summit (Crock, anyone?) the same day. And no, I have no idea what those strange names signify…

However, since moving to NE Scotland, I have developed a fondness for meltwater channels, features I’d never met or noticed before, and this walk included a superb example, not even named by the OS, and, to my mind, superior even to the Chalamain gap. After peacefully meandering between the hills, it suddenly turns, narrows and drops steeply down thru crags. For a short time, the world beyond is kept at bay. Absolutely delightful.

Back on track, Corwharn was the actual high point of the day, the Drumshade plantation is sadly no more, and the next meltwater feature was on a much smaller scale, but so charming, leading to the final ascent up Hare Cairn, where we battled crushed deer fence and fallen trees on the way.

A long walk, designed to get us in trim for the summer ahead – my apologies for overestimating the track and underestimating the rough ground between – this is a recurrent feature of my descriptions, but I will try to control it better! Thank you to everyone for your delightful and entertaining company.

Catherine Lacy

Saunter to Charr Bothy and Hill of Edendocher

Most folk gathered in the meadow that serves as a spacious car park down by the Water of Dye while others availed themselves of a gravely layby on the road.

The crisp morning and the bright sunshine belied the frost that still clothed the shady areas; the air thankfully still. Looking round in the Sunday morning quietude it was clear that forestry operations had begun; the gate, usually locked shut was wide open, a portaloo stood like a sentry box and signs indicated that forestry work was in progress.

Seven saunterers set off up the glen stopping only to inspect the remains of what might have been a grain drying or a lime kiln as it was set into the hillside with a fire pit below, the cauldron above being supported by substantial lintel stones. The remains of the adjacent cottage show the outline of a building rectangular in floor plan with a small area of land set out with lazybeds running down the hill to the west. Close by ruined buildings of all shapes and sizes show evidence that lots of families lived in the glen at one time and further west substantial fields bounded by a lone scots pine and the remains of a stand of larch still show signs of fertility.

This area is notable for Colin Massie in the 16th century, the warlock of Glendye who made his way to the witch gatherings, riding on a huge black boar. If it were a long journey, a horse might be taken from a stable over whose doorway there was no horse shoe suspended so J McPherson wrote in his compendium ‘Primitive Beliefs in the North East of Scotland’. We saw no sign of this notorious gentleman but perhaps if we’d been there on Hallowe’en…

Charr Bothy was shimmering in the sunshine and we were ready for a fly cup and for some a fine piece as well. To make ourselves comfortable outside the bothy’s living room was plundered for remarkably comfortable plastic armchairs to luxuriate in the warmth. Some thought, “why go anywhere else” perhaps some thought, “why go any further” such was the tranquil ambience of the place we are after all, saunterers.

This, however was the parting of the ways and after we’d returned the chairs to the meticulous bothy five of us in the not so serious saunterers’ group decided to take the path going due north to the summit of the Hill of Edendocher while Susie and Peter, purist saunterers considered the unknown to them track next to the Water of Charr to the south a better option.

Rewarded by views of Little Calf Hill and Meikle Calf Hill, of snow-covered Mount Battock before stopping at Old Hangy burn where the map shows a building which turned out to be an intact round ended house complete with roof that for some reason had been displaced sideways. A suitable destination. They returned to the bothy for lunch, placing the chairs on its north eastern end, away from the wind. The return leg of their saunter was the high road, rather eroded on its steep descent back in to Glen Dye. An adventurous shortcut across brief off-piste section across a mixture of bracken and grass took them back along the final stretch next to a mix of larch and Scots pine back to the cars. The obvious place for a very pleasant round walk if only a bridge was built to replace the one on the map that is no longer there.

Lots of evidence of forestry road works as we ascended HofE, ditches and embankments having been enlarged, the raw earth running water adding to the considerable erosion already visible and in due course the digger responsible appeared, not an Australian and shovel but a brand new ‘delivery mileage only’ bright green bucket excavator/bulldozer enjoying its day of rest.

No rest for us as there was still 2km to go passing by the Cairn of Finglenny leaving it for later. Later meant after lunch, taken in the shelter of the craggy bit just short of the summit, if that meandering plateau can be so called, of Hill of Edendocher. Now, I’ve just omitted one of the highlights of the day, one I can’t let pass … we met part of the Clachnaben summit party, a very cheery group, Catherine, Andy and Fiona on our way to the top. Such was the jollification I can’t remember what they said about the others who had also done Clachnaben and later on we met them again just as we were going to take our turn to summit Cairn of Finglenny. At last, a hill with a proper top!!

Like the tone of this report, it was now downhill all the way including a heather bashing shortcut back to the upper track with a good view of the Kerloch wind farm pumping out the kilowatt hours and a short grassy descent past freshly fallen pines led us back to the car park.

This was a walk dominated by the weather even before it started. Firstly, the original walk leader couldn’t make it because of the wind delaying her flight. Then the stand-in walk leader had to travel twice the normal distance to the walk due to the Cairn o Mount snow gates being closed. Despite this, thirteen club members met in Fettercairn and set off at 9am on the walk. We walked west out of the village and past the whisky distillery before turning up to Mains of Balnakettle farm. Up until then we were relatively sheltered from the wind but from then on, the wind became the main feature in an otherwise beautiful day. As we walked up hill though a full arch of a rainbow formed in front of us and the going in the now filled track was ameliorated by the tracks of a tree planting machine which helped us up as far as the deer fence near the top of the ridge. On the way up we noted the extensive swathe of trees that had been felled by the winter storms and a tree felling machine working hard on the clear up. As we passed the Wood of Balfour, we took the opportunity to stop in a small quarry for a cuppa in relative shelter. Then it was on and upwards against the wind although as we closed in on top of the ridge at the 528m spot height, we gained some shelter from the north-west wind from the ridge itself.

At the top, the estate bothy beckoned but so did the Sturdy Hill trig point. The group decided to divide at this point with 6 pushing on against the wind to the trig point and 7 opting for lunch in the hut and a longer route back.

It was a relatively short distance to Sturdy Hill but a bit of a fight against the wind and once at the top, the only way to remain standing was to brace against the trig point itself. Then it was back along to the hut and some lunch before coming back on the first track down to Nether Thainston and Fettercairn itself.

The other group, after lunch at the bothy, took the second route down off the ridge heading to the Deer Dyke and Brunt Hill where time was taken to note the total devastation of yet another forest. The weather now improved and the pace slowed, to allow more time taking for photos and the views heading towards Fasque. However, the intended route past Fasque House was blocked by huge fallen beech trees that necessitated a short backtrack to Nether Thainston before returning to Fettercairn.

Wildlife spotted include grouse, a mountain hare and a heron and both groups were uplifted by the snowdrops in the wood next to Nether Thainston.

Back at Fettercairn, we agreed that we had had a good if more challenging than expected day out with no mishaps apart from the loss of some personal gear in the wind.

Main Walk – Bin of Cullen

The February walk had to be changed twice due to various circumstances and ended up being the Bin of Cullen, reccied by Catherine, but coordinated on the day by James. The weather was a raw, strong, blustery airstream full of wintry showers that generated a “Yellow” warning of snowy conditions west of the A9, thus leaving our route from Banchory/Aberdeen to Cullen free of any adverse warning. And this proved correct till north of Huntly when a prolonged snow shower turned the last 15 miles to Cullen into a drive that needed care and attention. But by 9.45 eleven walkers threaded their way from the Cullen Golf Club public car park along the waterfront to the harbour (designed by Thomas Telford), through the narrow back streets, up some steps, across the main road and round slightly circuitous route to the Castle Hill, believed to be the site where Robert de Bruce’s wife died. It was a chilly spot, and we quickly retraced our steps part way before heading off south towards Cullen House, with the oldest parts dating back to 1600 and formerly the residence of the Ogilvie family who were given the titles Earl of Findlater and Seafield. Massive no access signs and a new path diverted us round the back of the house, now converted into luxury apartments, till we reached the bridge near Lintmill.

Crossing the burn on tracks made muddy by forestry vehicles that had obviously been working hard to clear all the windfall timber from the recent storms, we threaded out way up the side of Glen Burn. Here we stopped where we found some snow free ground to sit upon for our first break. We looked across the burn to a heavily forested hill on the other side that was Davies Castle, the name of an old hill fort, but from past experience not easy to summit so we left well alone today in the still falling snow.

We left the burn and started our ascent in more open woodland, the prolonged snow shower stopped, the sun came out and the trees were briefly a sparkling winter wonderland. A side track zig-zagged its way up “The Bin” and wit increasing elevation the openly planted Sots Pines become broader then their 10-foot stunted height, and unfortunately offered us much less shelter. The summit at 320m (just over 1000feet) was adorned with a trig point, and a cairn supporting a shattered hill/significant points “compass” and distance finder. But with the sun still shining the views were magnificent with Troup Head, 34km to the east clearly visible, and closer by the coastal villages of Cullen, Portknockie and Buckie laid out before us.

We descended back into the shelter of the forest and stopped for a second break just as a hail shower hit us with hailstones the size of petit pois, fine for the G & T but we didn’t have any. More twists and turns amongst the estates maize of tracks and we reached the impressive bridge and gorge on the south side of Cullen House. Despite the multiple sings denying access we tip-toed into the middle of the bridge for a look down into the gorge of the Cullen Burn and the remnants of a fine, but somewhat uncared for, ornamental garden. Cullen House, and its luxury apartments looked good in a brief sunny outbreak, but there was no sign of life from its presumably wealthy inhabitants, if indeed there were any.

Away from the bridge we followed track and path alongside the burn to ascend through uncleared windfall to the Pomona Temple, sitting quite majestically within sight of the main A98. Built in 1822 and refurbished after a fire in the late 20th century, it used to contain a statue of Pomona the Roman goddess of fruit trees and orchards but it went missing around the time of the second world war.

The planned route away from the temple to Cullen Bay Hotel was not clear but after literally walking a complete circle in trying to find an alternative we forged out way forward to pop through a barbed wire fence at the eastern end of the dank woodland onto the pavement of the A98 that lead to the hotel (and a warm cup of tea/coffee). But thoughts were on the potentially snowy drive home and so we turned our back on the hotel and headed straight down the road to our parked cars. Some grabbed a cuppa at the mobile caravan that was setting up when we started the walk, and we all probably drove most of the way home in daylight, a big advantage, though the roads were possibly not as bad as we had expected.

A great walk, so much history and interest, a taste of winter weather and storm damage and coastal scenery that we don’t often experience. 18km, 480m accumulated vertical ascent.

Sunday Saunter - Glen Kindie

Is a red sky in the morning a shepherd’s warning? It proved to be the case on Sunday as we travelled west, dodging road closures with every greying sky and beyond Alford flurries of snow. Perhaps we shouldn’t have been surprised at Peter’s phone call about the condition of the minor road up Glen Kindie, which sure enough was well covered hiding lots of icy patches. On meeting Brenda and Dorothy parked at the top of a hill, we decided that walking up to the designated parking place at old quarry where Peter and Graham were waiting was the best policy, knowing that steep hills and a particularly tricky bend lay ahead.

In fact, Peter and Graham weren’t waiting for us to arrive as we met them on the road walking down to see what had happened to us. All was well and we gathered in the car park to decide where we should walk in these unexpectedly wintry conditions. The planned route would have taken us up onto very windy hillsides, and none of us wanted to experience the full blast of the snow showers that passed through, especially in the deep narrow valley that would take us back to the car park. We were on a saunter after all.

The map showed a footpath on low ground on the south side of the glen that looked easily accessible that would give us a round walk, much more like it, but on arriving at the point where it should have been it didn’t exist, not even the slightest suggestion of a path was visible. However, there was a track that was visible that didn’t appear on the map and after some debate about the wisdom of following this path we decided to carry on up the hill shortly to be rewarded with deep blue skies, sunshine and a view of the sparkling fresh snow – time for a coffee stop to appreciate our surroundings. Conditions had changed from sub arctic to alpine - temporarily it turned out.

The path rose gently upwards towards the ridge separating Glen Kindie from Glen Buchat at Millhuie Hill but the weather at this point was anything but kind as the wind driven snow set in encouraging us to step out and gain the shelter of the old pines and larches. As we stopped and looked around roe deer put their heads up, took a quick look at the invaders of their space and quickly ran deeper into the wood.

This was as far as we went. A round walk seemed to be unlikely now and we didn’t want to visit Glen Buchat or climb the hill then; they can wait for another day. The snow continued to blow in and the return to the car park was an amiable wander in what soon reverted to alpine conditions, with some photos being taken. Graham and Peter headed for home.

Serious Saunterers, whose cars were another two miles along the road, carried on – mostly down but with some up, and ended their walk as Saunterers for Softies by having lunch in the car.

The constant rapid switch from sub arctic to alpine and back again made for an invigorating day in an area that was a welcome discovery to those who hadn’t been there before. We’ll be back.

Culblean is the high flattened ground lying south of Morven, a thin scraping of heather on top of smooth granite rock, some puny regenerating pines; they couldn’t even put the trig at the highest point…but as a viewpoint overlooking the Dee valley, it is superb.

OK, we were so lucky with the weather, the day settling to balmy sunshine and no wind – in January! The high Cairngorms to the west were still limned in snow; usual kind of discussion, there’s Beinn a Bhuird, is that Beinn a Ghlo? And to the east the green fields below spread out beyond the mirrored waters of Kinord and Davan - beautiful!

I should add that tick-box walkers with any sense will cycle easily up a track from the east to summit this hill; but if you want a varied interesting walk, then this circular from Cambus o May is far superior. It does require a certain amount of stamina in dealing with deep heather, and I must congratulate the 2 parties on their fortitude. And I must also thank husband Andy for allowing the rather large initial group to split into 2, and for tackling the route in the more challenging direction.

Catherine Lacy

Culter Hillwalking Club’s first walking Sunday of 2022, at Forvie Sands Nature Reserve, attracted twenty -three walkers and thirteen Saunters, an outstanding turnout. The walkers split into two coordinated groups, one walking clockwise, one anticlockwise but presumably having similar experiences along the way in what was a day of cloudless skies and persistent frost at ground level. The seals were there in abundance separated into three main groups basking in the sun, lapped by the waves of a very quiet North Sea. Elsewhere on the beach were sanderlings, dunlins and redshank whilst on the river itself twenty or so male and female eider ducks were swimming around. Only a few seals were in the river, their domed head and big brown eyes watching us carefully, but one in particular was showing off by swimming upstream, pushing a fishing show – that “trick” obviously comes naturally.

The dunes of course offered plenty of shelter for refreshment breaks or lunch, but in such weather conditions, and even though the temperature was only a degree or two above freezing, the open beach was quite comfortable. The route took sus past the remnants of the St Adamnan’s Kirk, in use from 1100 to 1600 BC by the residents of the nearby village that met its end, buried under the shifting dunes.

In the sunshine the wet, golden sands of Hackley Bay, defined by high cliffs, home to some raucous ravens and busy fulmars, looked glorious and were well worth the only major descent and ascent of the day.

Collieston was a suitable place for lunch with some strategically place benches at the harbour side catching the midwinter’s sun whilst others ventured to lunch on the top of the cliffs north of the harbour to study and admire the exposed geology. Unfortunately, the ice cream shop was closed for the season. The Visitors Centre at the northern end of the reserve was al locked up due to an imminent major refurbish to include internal insulation.

The unimaginatively named Sand Loch was covered in a layer of ice although a couple of swans managed to find a free spot and were dipping their heads into the water for food They shared the ice free water with some mallards and other unidentifiable ducks. The remaining part of the circuit was a path through heather down the middle of the reserve, not really promoted by the reserve, but clearly indicated on the OS Map. This passed close to the “hill” of the day, not a Munro, but a vegetated and stable dune capped by a trig point at a height of 57m. Of course a detour was made to that, and the views to the west surprisingly extensive and we were not alone, deeer were seen munching away at slightly lower elevations..

Having walked 15km both groups returned to the parked cars within ten minutes of 2.45pm to some noisy rooks in the trees, all which appeared to have survived the recent gales.

An invigorating start to Culter Hillwalking Club’s 2022.

Saunterers Ythan Walk

This walk had it all, good company; “welcome guests”, fabulous weather; “was it really January?” A bit of a challenge, “take care on the steep steps down to Hackley Bay” and a trig point to visit. There were parts of Aberdeenshire we couldn’t see from there but that was only because they were below the horizon such was the clarity of the unusually still air and even the wind turbines were observing a day of rest.