Ben Vrackie |
During our the second week of our hols in Highland Perthshire, we climbed a couple of hills. Climbed Ben Vrackie, a Corbett (2757ft), east of Pitlochry. From Pitlochry, headed up the hill past the Moulin Hotel and parked in the car park further up the hill. We climbed out into a clearing, with views of the mountain, then up to a loch with an earth dam. From here, a steeper second half of the ascent to the top, still on a very well made path. It hot and sunny, though there was some breeze - one of the earlier risers, now coming down from the hill, warned us that the top was "a wee bit windy". Clearly a Scottish understatement, as it was blowing a gale when we got up there. Though it was a bit hazy, we enjoyed views south along the Tummel valley below Pitlochry, towards its junction with the Tay; the valleys of the Tummel and upper Tay separated by Dunfallandy Hill. Higher up the valley, Loch Faskally and Glen Garry. To the northeast with Ben A Ghlo, the still very snowy southern Cairngorms and Lochnager. Schiehallion was to the west. On our way down, we took a different, more fiddly path around to the north end of the loch, getting a bit lost trying to wiggle our way back round to the path back down to the Moulin car park. Cold drinks, followed by tea in the Festival Theatre cafe, overlooking the River Tummel, its anglers and the hill we'd climbed. The busy town and heat were a bit of a shock after our walk. The hoards of coach parties and general touristy grockle were off-putting. Not for the first time, I wanted to revolt against this and try another higher level, rugged mountain walk before we went home.
My Munros Man on Schiehallion |
With more hot weather forecast later in the week, we made an early start for Schiehallion: a Munro, 3553ft (1083m). Headed to the car park on the northeast side of the mountain, from where we were walking from 8:00am. It really helped that it started off misty - we couldn't actually see the mountain from the car park when we set off; though the sun threatened to burn it off. Thankfully, it persisted while we climbed the steep first 900m of ascent to the ridge. It then began clearing, though didn't completely clear, giving us views looking down through broken cloud. It remained hazy all day, blocking views of the more distant mountains. There was a good path up to the ridge, the mountain owned by the John Muir Trust, but it then petered out when we got to the ridge of blocky quartzite. We just about managed this in our trainers (with ankle support - didn't feel like heavy boots in the heat), but it was a bit borderline. It took us about three hours to get to the top: view north down to Loch Tummel, Loch Rannoch and Kinlochrannoch in between. To the south Ben Lawers, still some snow on its north facing slope. Even on the top, the forecast temperature (daytime maximum) was 17C, about 10C higher in the glens; and, even at 3000ft+, there were bugs - more flies and mozzies than midges, but they made it too uncomfortable to linger long at the top. All morning we had the mountain to ourselves, only seeing other people as we came down from the ridge, many of them struggling climbing the steep bit in the full sun. Back at the car at about 1.45pm, glad we hadn't had to endure that. Then, to Aberfeldy and the Watermill cafe, pleased to have got up the mountain; exorcising and exercising the ghosts of the moody teenager who refused when her.
Ben Lawers from Schiehallion (distance) |
While I was sketching Ben Lawers from Loch Tay on 20th May, my other half (over half of the 3000ft+ climbed and ticked off the Munros map back home) climbed Ben Lawers; one of four Munros he climbed that day. This is the highest mountain in Perthshire 3983ft (1214m). During our first week, there was still snow on the top; and even during the hot second week, we saw snow lingering on its northern slopes, viewed from Schiehallion.
To the west of Ben Lawers is a pass, with a narrow road running from the Bridge of Balgie in Glen Lyon, past a lochan, then down steeply to the A287 on the shore northern shore of Loch Tay. On Friday 18th May, we did a short walk from the bridge, uphill beside waterfalls in the Meggernie Estate. Woodland and views over Glen Lyon. At the top of the hill, there was a clearing with views over the mountains. The weather was clearing, but the top of Ben Lawers was still shrouded in cloud. We then found a way down to the northern end of road along the pass. Some interesting waterfalls on the burn. Revisiting the area now, with the car journey back via the pass and along the Loch Tay road, reminded of the cycle hire saga here in my teens, during the second week of a family holiday nearly 30 years ago (the same one as the Schiehallion whimp-out). The cycling day started off well; along the Glen Lyon, in the summer sunshine, though plenty of shade from the trees. The problems came after lunch, negotiating the Ben Lawers pass. It didn't help that we were doing this in the heat of the day, with virtually no shade; but the bicycles weren't up to it. By modern cycling standards, they were pretty basic, without the luxury if hi-tech multiple gears. My father had to go running to motorists in the car parks asking if they had a spanner on them; the handlebars giving way on my bike and my brother; think there was a loose chain as well. We got round, eventually; me refusing Dad's offer of bringing the car round for the last bit, determined to finish all on my own stead (knackered bicycle). My other half - a keen cyclist as well as Munro climber was amazed my father contemplated taking us over this pass on bicycles, as it's steep and narrow; though don't think the A'road at the bottom was a busy then. Presumably my Dad's thinking had been variety and doing the pass after the glen as we'd have had to have started with steep uphill if we'd done it the other way round (1:7 - 1:5 gradient at the south end). I was probably too tired or my mind fixated on getting back to the comfort of the guest house to notice cycling past the Ben Lawers visitor centre. We'd visited it earlier that week. It has since (2010) been removed - just boggy ground among moorland where it had been) as it was thought to have been too much of a visual eyesore and ecological intrusion on the mountain.