A Local Walk & Camp In Stormy Weather

Camp in the forest

With a big storm approaching and unsettled weather already here venturing into the high mountains didn’t seem a good idea so I decided on an overnight trip in my local moorland hills. There were places I’d still never visited despite living here for over thirty years. This seemed a good time to go and see them.

The field of young pines with the Cromdale Hills in the background

For once I set off from the front gate and into the local woods. I soon left the dense forest, a mixed plantation of Scots pine, larch, and Sitka spruce that was thinned a few years ago (to make it more suitable for capercaillie the estate said) and passed by a fenced area full of young pines. When we first moved here this was a boggy field used for grazing sheep. That stopped many years ago and young trees started to appear, seeded from the nearby pine plantation. Since then the estate has planted some more pines and erected a stock fence, though this seems unnecessary as plenty of trees have sprung up outside it. Still, it’s good to see a new forest growing.

The Cairngorms

Beyond the trees I headed up onto rough heather moorland. The clouds cleared and the distant shining white Cairngorms appeared under a deep blue sky. The sun was warm and I thought about removing my hat. Dark clouds on the horizon suggested this might be unwise however. It would have been as soon sleet and then snow was driving in on a gusty wind. Instead of removing my hat I was struggling into waterproofs.

The weather changes

The storm continued as I climbed through a rugged area of small crags and ravines dotted with self-seeded trees and onto higher moors where there was no protection from the wind and the wet snow.

Wintry!

I was aiming for a little loch called the Black Loch at the head of one of the burns running down into Glen Tulchan. It looked an interesting situation, tucked into a very narrow little steep-sided glen just below a broad moorland ridge.

The Black Loch

The skies cleared and the sun shone again as I had my first sight of the loch. I’d thought I might camp by it but as soon as I looked down I knew that just reaching it would be difficult enough as steep heather-clad slopes dotted with little crags ran right down to the water. A careful traversing descent took me down to the foot of the lochan and the start of the winding defile of the Black Loch Burn.

The Black Loch Burn glen after a snow flurry

The floor of the glen was a boggy mass of reeds, tussocks and heather with the burn winding through it. The ground oozed. There was no path, the walking was tough, and camping here out of the question. It’s a lovely hidden little glen though and I enjoyed my rather stumbling walk along it. The weather changed again, another burst of snow arriving, but the sky was clear by the time I reached the estate track running down Glen Tulchan and the walking became easier.

The land was still boggy and tussocky until I reached some Caledonian pinewoods. Here I found a dry site in an area of dead bracken. The clouds were racing overhead but it was calm here. The pine forest was lovely but I spent the evening in the tent as there were more snow and sleet showers.

View from the tent at dawn

Dawn came with sunshine and a frost. There was frozen condensation on the tent walls. I lingered over breakfast, reluctant to leave this tranquil spot. And also reluctant to don my cold wet socks and boots, sodden from the bogs of the Black Loch Burn the day before. As always once on they didn’t feel too bad. The anticipation was worse than the reality.

One of the fords

There was a stream to ford just beyond camp and then another two further down the glen. I just splashed through. I was not going to have dry feet today. More old pinewoods made the glen pleasant and a little wild.

Ben Rinnes

As the land grew tamer and the first fences and cultivated fields appeared I left the glen on an estate track that took me back up onto the moors with views over the trees to snow-topped Ben Rinnes.

Across the next glen I could see an extensive cross-hatching pattern on the hillside. I'd never seen anything like this before and couldn't work out what it was for. Back home research showed it's called narrow strip matrix or maze cutting and is done to provide more edges to the heather as part of management to boost grouse numbers for shooting. I'd seen burnt patches and shooting butts on the moors here as grouse shooting is a major land use but nothing like this.* 

Glenmore Loch

As clouds began to build again I descended to little Glenmore Loch, a pleasant artificial pool where I saw mallard ducks and a heron, and then up onto the slopes of Tom Mor, on top of which is the mast that provides my wi-fi. The mast was visible but there was no signal here.

Looking back to Glenmore Loch as the clouds roll in and sleet begins to fall

Now on familiar ground I hurried down the track to the road home. Distant hills were disappearing into the mist and light rain and sleet was falling. The world turned grey. I could have done without the last hour’s walking. I’d visited some local country I hadn’t seen before, had a restful camp, and a good walk though. It had been a low key but pleasant trip and the weather suggested I’d have had a much rougher and less enjoyable time if I’d gone to the higher mountains.

*The Tulchan Estate, which owns and manages this land, was recently reported as being up for sale for £67 million. However indefatigable land campaigner Andy Wightman explains on his Land Matters blog that there's some sleight of hand going on with the sale of 100% of the shares so that various taxes need not be paid. It seems the estate is both for sale and not for sale at the same time.