Pentland Hills – Kip Skipping!

The Kips From Black Hill

My favourite amongst the shapely Pentland Hills is the distinctive conical ridge of West Kip (551m). Whilst the name derives from the Celtic word for pointed hill (caep) this miniature mountain alternates in appearance from being a sharp cone when viewed from either NE or SW, to a short flat-topped ridge (which is actually what it is) when seen from the NW or SE. The final approach to the hill, from whatever direction you choose, is guaranteed to be rewarding with steep grassy slopes rising to a delightful roof-top ridge wide enough for its traversing path but not much else! Notwithstanding these plaudits, West Kip is but one highlight of an excellent out-and-back walk from the evocatively named hamlet of Nine Mile Burn on the A702 Edinburgh – Biggar road. The spot is 9 old Scots miles from Edinburgh (about 11 miles in new money)!

West Kip From Monks Rig

This 11Km route follows clearly-marked or good quality paths throughout and loses nothing in forcing you to return via the outward route. My only problem earlier this week was the skin-stripping wind that came in off the North Sea and took no prisoners as it scoured these exposed tops! It really dominated the walk and at times impeded progress to the point of frustration – probably not helped by the absence of my gore-tex jacket! Nevertheless, it was – and is – a cracking wee walk and took just 3 hrs to traverse West and East Kip, Scald Law and South Black Hill before returning me, sand-blasted but fulfilled, to Nine Mile Burn!

West Kip From South Black Hill

From the car park opposite the line of cottages now mercifully by-passed from the speeding traffic, follow the signpost to Balerno, through the kissing gate. Follow the dry stane dyke around the field eventually crossing a stile on to the open grassy shoulder known as Monks Rig. On the way you pass the Font Stane, a shaped piece of local rock with a sculptured recess thought to be the base for a cross, now long gone. Coins in the recess are evidence that the age old tradition of making an offering at the cross continues to this day! This is the course of the old Monk’s Road between Newhall Monastery and Dunfermline Abbey. Continue over the flat top of Cap Law beside a distinctive clutch of wind-sculpted larches from where a scenic vista opens up.

East Kip, Scald Law & South Black Hill From Cap Law

Now you can see the shapely cone of West Kip and the rest of the day’s hills that encircle the hollow of Eastside Farm and its eponymous burn. Here, the wind really took hold and it was head down to the base of West Kip before the short, sharp pull up to the summit. This would normally be a great place to linger but not today! It was smartly down (as all descents from West Kip are) and then up and over East Kip (534m) before descending to Cross Sward, the grassy col between the Kips and the main Pentland ridge. From here, a clear path takes a rising traverse up to the Pentlands’ crowning summit, complete with white trig point and expansive views - Scald Law (579m).

The View From West Kip Along the Pentland Chain

Braced against the relentless wind I ran down to South Black Hill (563m) which is effectively the SW Top of Scald Law and is adorned by a pile of red trachyte stones arranged in a shallow circular retaining wall. It didn’t offer much shelter today so it was quickly back down to Cross Sward and over the Kips, running with the wind back over Cap Law and down to the merciful shelter of Nine Mile Burn and the waiting car!

West Kip

Check out my future plans for this winter on: http://www.hillways.co.uk/winter/winter.htm

MLTA Workshop – Winter Mountaineering

Twelve months on and it was back to Fort William for another Mountain Leader Training Association (MLTA) (www.mlta.co.uk) workshop with British Mountain Guide Tim Blakemore. Tim runs a series of workshops at this time of year on behalf of the MLTA aimed at instructing/refreshing mountain leaders on useful topics. Apart from the obvious benefit of such training, participants also receive points towards their continuing professional development (CPD) a newly-introduced requisite for maintaining one’s mountain qualifications.

This was just a one-day workshop but Tim still managed to get a lot across to our group of 6. The main aim was to explore the grey area between non-technical mountain leading and winter mountaineering. This entailed practice in leading clients on steep ground using ‘short roping’ techniques. The leader and followers are tied on to the same rope with the former taking any spare rope around his body in coils. He then controls the distance between himself and the No 2 by holding or releasing hand coils. This technique enables a group to move steadily over difficult terrain without set climbing pitches and fixed protection.

Needless to say, it was a typically cold, blustery January day that we climbed into the Nevis Range gondola for the ride up to the top station. The biting wind and occasional snow shower ensured we all remained tightly wrapped in gore-tex all day! The crampons came on soon after leaving the top station, together with helmets, harnesses and ice axes. Splitting into groups of 2 or 3 we spent the day examining the snowpack, leading each other up and down steep ‘gnarly’ ground and looking at various ice axe belays. There was some invaluable ropework for us non-climbers and some discussion on the effectiveness of ice axe arresting. The empty promise of a nice hot coffee (I forget from whom....) ensured we descended to the gondola station in plenty of time to beat the last ride down and a short de-brief saw us on our way before darkness.

A big thank you to Tim (http://www.northernmountainsport.co.uk) for giving up his nice French alpine apartment for the joys of Fort William so that we could fill in our knowledge gaps and improve our experience. He’ll be back next year, and so will I!


Check out my future plans for this winter on: http://www.hillways.co.uk/winter/winter.htm

Pentland Hills and Winter Skills!

Just 15 Minutes From Edinburgh!

Friend, bush craft expert and survival guru Nigel popped up for a few days before Christmas just in time to feel the full icy blast of our on-going winter. The idea was to practise some winter skills techniques and we were originally going to head for the Cairngorms where we knew snow would be guaranteed. Needless to say, these days if it’s snow you want, all you need do is open your front door! So it was last week and we forsook the dodgy drive up and down the A9 for the short trip to the Edinburgh city limits where we found all we needed on the steep northern slopes of Caerketton Hill at the north-eastern end of the Pentland Hills.

Grade 1 Ground - Pentlands Style!

Some of the approach lanes to the Pentlands have been difficult to negotiate during the snowy weather but the car park at Swanston has remained open and duly served as our starting point for each day’s activities. Within 10 mins of leaving the car we were ankle-deep in powder snow which overlay a hard icy base. Higher up we encountered some surface ice patches and areas of freshly created soft windslab. These contrasting snow conditions gave us just what we needed to rehearse a string of winter techniques including ice axe and crampon work, snow belays and avalanche assessment.

Nigel Busy Burying His Ice Axe

On leaving the summit of Caerketton Hill we came across stark evidence of nature at work. Amongst the myriad of footprints, ski and animal tracks in the soft snow, Nige was quick to spot – and identify - something different. A raptor, maybe a kestrel, had swooped down and taken a small rodent or something similar leaving a clear imprint of its wing feathers just at the point where the unfortunate prey’s tracks came to an abrupt and ominous end! Try clicking on the photograph to enlarge it and you should see the details.

A View to a Kill

On Day 2 we climbed straight to the base of one of the crags immediately below the summit of Caerketton Hill and took turns leading up a steep snow gulley that we had spotted the previous day. It was good to get the rope out; it proved particularly reassuring for the near-vertical ice field that we found at the top end of the gulley! In the absence of any recognised named climbs on this part of the gently rolling (!) Pentland Hills we christened it Supermarket Gulley. The previous day whilst surveying the view over Edinburgh we somehow got into an amazingly banal unbloke-ish exchange of views on the merits of different supermarkets! You can see quite a few from here!! It’s alright, I don’t expect you to understand - you had to be there!!!

Nigel Leads the Way up Supermarket Gulley

On Day 3, we climbed yet another steep gulley, topped Allermuir Hill and then finished off with some interesting micro-navigation looking for insignificant snow-covered hummocks, ring contours and stream beds using map, compass and pacing. All very enjoyable – and successful. In the end, we achieved everything we wanted to and Nigel left a happy and contented man. I suppose we did miss out on a night in a snowhole but when I suggested it all I could see of him was his back fast disappearing off in the general direction of the Swanston clubhouse. Beer and chips seemed to offer a more appetising alternative to a night in the snow! I ask you! Maybe next time Nige?

Tea O'Clock!

Check out my future plans for this winter on: http://www.hillways.co.uk/winter/winter.htm

Arthur’s Seat – A First Winter Ascent!

Arthur's Seat

Having spent most of the past week with a shovel in my hand constantly digging my way to the outside world, today it was time to get the winter gear out and enjoy a hill-walk in the snow. The distinctive volcanic mound of Arthur’s Seat (251m) can seem like the middle of the country (as opposed to the middle of Edinburgh) at the best of times. Cover it with ice and a healthy foot or two of snow and you very much are a million miles away from the surrounding streets of the city. Blue skies, clear air and bright sunshine completed the magical mix which ensured a superb couple of hours of winter walking.

Looking Across Salisbury Crags to Edinburgh

Such is the amount of snow that has fallen in these parts during the past 7 days, it was hardly surprising to see an avalanche warning issued for this wee hill a couple of days ago. Come the weekend though and the snow has consolidated pretty well and there’s a greater danger from snow falling from high rooftops in the city than on the steep slopes of Arthur’s Seat. The paths are all compacted snow now which is icy enough to make progress slow and thoughtful. The summit rocks are passable with care but if you have crampons and an ice axe, you will certainly benefit from using them. Avoid the steeper paths on the way down and try and stay on the softer snow to remain upright.

The Summit

On the lower slopes, sledgers and skiers mingled with walkers, dogs and children all savouring the wonderful winter experience that is a Sunday stroll on sun-kissed snow! Don’t worry if you didn’t get out this weekend, something tells me there will be many more opportunities before we get to see our back lawns again!

Global Warming On Hold!

Check out my future plans for this winter on: http://www.hillways.co.uk/winter/winter.htm

The Seven Hills of Edinburgh

Arthur's Seat From the Braid Hills

By common convention, the Seven Hills of Edinburgh are a septet of volcanic plugs dispersed around this fine city all of which give great views in all directions. The highest is less than 1000’ above sea level and the lowest a mere 350’ high. Once a year, on the 3rd Saturday in June, a combined race/challenge is held in which hardened runners and keen walkers can undertake a rapid run or walk of all 7 hills (last year’s winning time was 1 hr 40 mins)! Alternatively, they can be climbed at a more leisurely pace, either singly, or in convenient clutches of two or more. But at least once, they deserve to be tackled in one circuitous walk which combines the city centre, suburban Edinburgh and the hills themselves.

Castle Rock From Calton Hill

Today was a dazzling autumnal day in the city, cold but cloudless and an ideal opportunity to squeeze the complete round into the ever-shortening days. An 0845 start from Festival Square in the heart of the city seemed as convenient a start/finish point as any and a brisk walk through the cold morning air led to Princes St Gardens and a rapid zig-zag up the side of Castle Rock to the Edinburgh Castle esplanade. A quick logic check suggested that the purist approach to actually standing on all 7 summits didn’t quite justify the £12 entrance fee to the castle so the esplanade was deemed to represent the high point of Castle Rock (131m) for the day and it was on rapidly to hill number 2!

Calton Hill

A descent of the Mound followed by a quick passage of Princes St Gardens past Waverley Station and on to the eastern end of Princes St led quickly to the foot of Calton Hill (108m). This diminutive lump nevertheless commands impressive views across Edinburgh and out across the Forth all the way to the southern Highlands where snow was clearly visible. The hill is decorated with various monuments, follies and towers, not all of them finished (and never will be!) that give added interest. However, it is the views you will remember and Calton Hill gives great reward for the minimal effort required to conquer it!

Arthur's Seat

The next hill – the highest of the seven - does, however, require some effort to climb it. Arthur’s Seat is a sizeable lump of grass and rock to find in the middle of a capital city and it certainly repays repeat visits. These first 3 summits are grouped conveniently close together and it didn’t take long to descend from Calton Hill, scamper past the architectural experiment and financial folly that is the Scottish parliament building and the far more impressive – and timeless – Palace of Holyrood before the climbing started again. A number of options present themselves but I recommend traversing the top of the impressive Salisbury Crags (take care) and then follow the excellent path up to the white trig point that crowns the summit of Arthur’s Seat (251m). Obviously, the views excel in every direction and you can see all the other Edinburgh hills from here quite clearly. It was still relatively early and given the time of year there were very few other folk about. In summer you can expect to find quite a crowd up here!

Arthur's Seat From Blackford Hill

I descended quite steeply to the western gate of Holyrood Park and walked past the Royal Commonwealth Pool before heading south down through the leafy streets of Newington and a welcome coffee break. You don’t need to carry your lunch (or much else for that matter) on this city walk! Blackford Hill (164m) marks the northernmost point of a large open area in the south of the city and is criss-crossed by a number of paths that snake their way through the grass and gorse. The hill’s flanks are home to the Royal Observatory, a golf course and Blackford Pond. To the south, the slopes fall steeply to the delightful wooded glade of the Braid Burn and the Hermitage of Braid beyond which lay my next objective, the Braid Hills. There is much to see here and it’s worth returning when you have more time to explore the area.

Blackford Hill

Today though, it was down from Blackford Hill, across the conveniently placed footbridge over the Braid Burn and along the quaintly named Lang Linn Path that leads up to busy Braid Hills Drive. This I crossed picking my way cautiously up through the public golf course to the trig point and view indicator that crown the highest point of the Braid Hills (213m). Suddenly, the Pentland Hills seemed very close (they were) and they served as a timely reminder of just how far I’d walked since leaving the city centre!

The Craiglockhart Hills From Braid Hills

From the summit of Braid Hills, it was westwards down through Morningside and across to the 2 hills of Craiglockhart. Unfortunately, the higher of these twins (Wester Craiglockhart Hill; 175m) is private property (I ask you!) and has no public access. So you have to make do with Easter Craiglockhart Hill (157m) which poses no access difficulties and is attained with minimal effort. You share much of the 2 hills with the Merchants of Edinburgh Golf Club and Napier University so no wonder there are access issues!

Corstorphine Hill

The sun was starting to sink in the south-western sky now and it would be a rush to gain the last hill before darkness. However, I could clearly see Corstorphine Hill a few short kilometres away and I wasn’t going to lose my last hill having come so far! Unfortunately, to get there you need to thread your way around the south-western suburbs of the city across busy streets, under railway lines past a prison and various industrial units before you get to the wooded slopes of the final summit. The summit of Corstorphine Hill (162m) lies at the southern end of a wooded ridge and is marked by the dark shape of Clermiston Tower. Much of the southern flank of the hill is shared with Edinburgh Zoo. I got to the top just after sunset, some 7 hrs after leaving Castle Rock and it got dark almost immediately. Whilst Corstorphine Hill marked the end of my particular conquest of the Seven Hills, personal pride dictated that it was only right to walk back to my start point in Festival Square. At this time of year, this entailed a long walk under the streetlights through leafy Murrayfield and Ravelston to Dean Village and eventually back to Princes St and Festival Square.

Clermiston Tower

The complete round, taken at a steady pace and including a generous coffee/lunch stop, was 19 miles/27 Km long and took 8 hr 30 min to complete. Go do it! I may just enter the race next June...

Climbing in France

As the sun heads south for winter and the days start shortening I just managed to squeeze a few days with the rock god of the Ecrins National Park in the French Alps. Following the previous week’s exertions tramping over the length and breadth of the Cairngorms, more hill-walking was not high on the agenda. Instead, and much to the good doctor’s pleasure, we close to get up close and personal to some French rock.

First up was a local via ferrata (Italian = iron road), a system of ladders, rungs and cables that are run up vertical rock faces to enable mere mortals like me to put there soft pink bodies where they have no earthly right to be! They were developed by the Italian army to help wage war against their Austrian counterparts in the South Tyrol, particularly the Dolomites, on the Austrian/Italian border (a moveable boundary for some of the 20th Century)! The doctor knew of a suitable local cliff to start on, it’s only disadvantage being it’s position on the shadowy side of the valley. At this time of year you need all the warmth of the sun you can get. Having donned our via ferrata climbing harnesses and strained our necks peering up at our stairway to heaven, I followed the man up the ironwork pretending I wasn’t at all phased by the rapidly disappearing valley floor below my feet! The GR54 long distance footpath runs close to here but there were no witnesses to my deft climbing skills alas! Half way up we changed over and I was given the honour of leading us out into the bright (and, thankfully, warm) sunshine! That was quite enough for one day so it was back to the car and off to find a restaurant so I could start boring folk with my tales of derring do high on a sheer cliff face.

A day and autumn storm or two later, the sun came out again and the doctor decided it was time to return to the rock, but this time without any accompanying ironwork! So we drove south and found a suitable (completely hold-less), sun-kissed (hot), and accessible (5 mins walk from the car) crag on which to spend the afternoon posing for photographs. There followed a series of climbs of French Grade 4/5 standard which typically took the good doctor no more than 5 mins and yours truly about half-an-hour to complete! It was all very enjoyable until I lost the use of my arms through chronic fatigue having used them to cling to the rock all afternoon!

It was the last of the sun – and the heat – for the week, and probably the year. It certainly was for the doc who is about to leave for his 3 months stint on the ice of Antarctica – which was almost the same amount of time we experienced snow for in much of Scotland last winter. What will this winter bring? Better days, that’s for sure...

Check out my future plans for this winter on: http://www.hillways.co.uk/winter/winter.htm

The Cairngorms in Autumn – The Cairngorm 4000ers

The High Peaks of the Western Cairngorms

There are 9 separate mountains accorded Munro status in Scotland above 4000’. Five of these lie within the Cairngorms massif and they constitute 5 of the 6 highest mountains in the British Isles. Because Pete needed to do them and because Andy didn’t stop me, I suggested doing them all in one day (and half of the night as it transpired)! The ensuing mountain marathon proved many things: the wisdom of carrying head-torches at all times, the perils of combining big hands with small maps and just because someone says they have a good idea it doesn’t mean you have to do it!

The Kincardine Hills From the Northern Corries of the Cairngorms

But hey, what else was there to do? The brilliant autumnal weather was continuing and we had enjoyed the previous day above Glen Feshie so we went for it. And what an endurance test it proved to be – 14 hrs of walking, climbing and stumbling over the highest upland massif in the land. We’ll be using the winter to recover!

The View West From Cairn Gorm

We started from the Cairngorm ski car park and headed up through the skiing detritus and under the funicular railway where we were overtaken for the only time during the day - by the first train of the morning. We sped past the Ptarmigan restaurant top station and up the flagstones to the summit of Cairn Gorm (1245m; blue hill) all of which took just over an hour. The views ranged from Ben Wyvis and the distant Fannichs to the north-west to Beinn a’ Ghlo in the south and Creag Meagaidh and the Laggan hills away to the west.

Descending Cairn Gorm; Only 6 Munros to go!

The summit was ours alone at this early hour but we had much to do and descended without delay westwards before traversing the rocky rim of Coire an t-Sneachda. From the top of the goat track we struck out across the plateau in glorious sunshine before pausing for some early lunch beside wee Lochan Buidhe (green lochan) the highest named tarn in Britain. Near here in November 1971, a party of 5 schoolchildren and their assistant instructor from Ainslie Park High School in Edinburgh perished in a snow blizzard. The tragedy led to the removal of nearly all mountain refuges in the Cairngorms as it was felt their presence could encourage walkers to press on in bad weather. These sobering thoughts seemed a world away in the warm sunshine as we continued south up the boulder-strewn slopes that led to our second peak of the day: Ben Macdui (1309m; hill of Macduff). More folk were about now, as were the snow buntings, and we barely paused at this 2nd highest peak in Britain before heading onwards.

The View South From Ben Macdui Towards Distant Beinn a'Ghlo

We descended south to pick up the Tailor burn, named after 3 tailors who died in snow one New Year’s Eve in an attempt to dance a highland reel on both Deeside and Speyside during the same night. The burn’s left bank took us to a small saddle connecting Ben Macdui with our 3rd Munro of the day (a late addition for Pete’s benefit) Carn a’ Mhaim (1037m; hill of the pass). The summit is placed rather inconveniently at the southern end of the mountain’s 2km summit ridge but it eventually came our way and suddenly we were about to turn and head back towards the car instead of continuing on to Edinburgh which felt just as close!

Braeriach, the Lairig Ghru & Ben Macdui From Carn a' Mhaim

Below us the mighty defile of the Lairig Ghru the finest mountain pass in Britain led north over its 835m summit to Strathspey. Immediately beneath our feet, 500m below us on the valley floor, lay the conspicuous shiny roof of Corrour Bothy surrounded by it’s bright green moat of grass. This former deer-watcher’s cottage was built in 1877 and the last watcher left in the 1920s. We moved a little south from the summit before exploiting a break in the mountain’s western wall of crags to commence a descending traverse into the southern entrance of the Lairig Ghru.

The Lairig Ghru

High mountains towered all around us now, a sobering sight given that we still had to climb most of them! We paused at the footbridge carrying the path to the bothy for some food and a cold soak in the waters of the infant Dee. At 3.30 on this mid-October afternoon (hell of a time to start climbing a mountain) we paused briefly to inspect the bothy’s new facilities before beginning the steep climb up into Coire Odhar and onto yet another Munro, the euphemistically titled Devil’s Point (1004m). The original gaelic name inferred a more phallic translation and was changed to appease Victorian virtues! This is a splendid viewpoint which gives great views in all directions the least inspiring one being that to the north that heralded our next big climb up on to Cairn Toul.

The Devil's Point Towering Over the Corrour Bothy

A definite evening feel to the day accompanied our short descent from the Devil’s Point and immediate climb to the 1213m top overlooking rock-strewn Coire an t-Saighdeir (corrie of the soldier) before a short descent and re-ascent on to the short summit ridge of Cairn Toul (1291m; hill of the barn). This mighty peak, the 4th highest mountain in Britain and the sharpest of the high Cairngorms, acts as a high watchtower over the southern part of the Lairig Ghru whilst also giving extensive views far to the west.

Carn a' Mhaim From Cairn Toul

A short, sharp descent and almost identical climb took us on to our penultimate peak of the day, Sgor an Lochain Uaine (1258m; peak of the green lochan). The sun was about to sink below the distinct profile of Creag Meagaidh in the west and we could only just see the dark waters of Lochan Uaine cradled in the deep north-eastern corrie of the mountain. A quarter moon just visible low in the southern sky told us we could expect very little by way of night-time illumination from that particular source. So we staggered ever on...

Cairn Toul & Sgor an Lochain Uaine

We now began the circular traverse of the most magnificent corrie in the Cairngorms, An Garbh Choire (rough corrie), a vast open amphitheatre, almost 3 km across at its entrance, gouged out of these huge mountains. The lowest point on this traverse is 1130m! As the sun finally left us we picked our way in the last vestiges of twilight around the corrie which still bore a tiny snow patch from the previous winter! Two-thirds of the way round we crossed the infant Dee a few hundred metres from its source and climbed up on to our final summit, mighty Braeriach (1296m; brindled upland) the 3rd highest mountain in the country. The summit cairn is perched right above the vertical cliffs of Coire Bhrochain although we could see precious little of anything anymore! It was now 7PM, quite dark and we still had 12 km to go across some wild and rugged country. Ah well; we had nothing else on that evening.

Braeriach

Remaining close together now and with just my own head-torch for illumination we found the connecting col to Sròn na Lairige and headed north towards the twinkling (but distant) lights of Aviemore under a million stars. The path proved to be elusive in the blackness, even with the torch, and seemed determined to lose us. Eventually it did, but using the Plough and Polaris, the North Star, to navigate (easier than using the compass) we stumbled on through deep heather, tricky boulder fields and occasional grass until we intercepted our path once more just as it met the Lairig Ghru path at the northern entrance to that familiar pass.

The Devil's Point & Cairn Toul

We paused again, taking in welcome water in the icy freshness of the Allt Druidh, before crossing that burn and climbing up into the Chalamain Gap. This short-lived but impressively deep gash in the heather hillsides is a glacial melt-water channel that has deposited a great number of awkward boulders. These are slippery when wet or, as now, damp, and required great care and some luck to negotiate safely. Andy managed to use his mobile phone as an effective supplementry light source which helped. As if to celebrate getting through the gap, we looked up to see the Northern Lights (aurora borealis) glowing translucent green in the northern sky! This is an incredible sight at any time, but to these weary stravaigers, it proved to be a most welcome diversion on the long trudge home. After an eternity we escaped out the other side and picked up an excellent path that we gratefully followed past the reindeer pens to just below the Cairngorm ski road. Here, a new path led us upwards one more time to the long-sought lights of the Ski car park and the oh so welcome refuge of Pete’s car.

For the record, we covered over 40 kms/27 miles; climbed over 2400m/8000’ and after 14 long hours had climbed 7 Munros including 5 of the 6 highest mountains in Britain. We probably won’t be doing it again anytime soon!

Some Day!