TGO Challenge 2013: Strathcarron to Montrose

Thursday 9^th May: Arrival at Strathcarron.

Anticipation built up on the way to Strathcarron with the increasing numbers of Challengers – a few at Queen St Station in Glasgow, hesitantly greeting each other – “TGO Challenge?” – more flocking on to the train at Perth and Inverness – noise levels increasing with every greeting.

There were many anxious looks out at the weather, which seemed to be deteriorating as we travelled west.

Strathcarron Hotel was friendly, welcoming and  comfortable – my last night in a bed till Kincraig, last time I’d sit at a table too. Everyone was friendly, welcoming first-timers, discussing the pros and cons of routes, comparing gear.


Strathcarron Hotel

Drinks outside - it was still dry on Thursday evening!



The west coast - though well inland at the head of Loch Carron

Friday 10^th May: Strathcarron to Gead Loch

The weather was fine at first, dry with some sunshine.

Loch Carron from above Achintee

The first part of the route was familiar – I had done it in reverse on a big stravaig 5 years previously.

The views back to Strathcarron and Loch Carron constantly changed. Looking back, I also saw a line of overtaking Challengers. I didn’t worry - I am much slower than most on the Challenge, but experience has taught me what I can and can’t do, how much I can do in a day - my days are just longer and more leisurely than most.



Lochan Fuara

There was pleasant walking over remembered high moorland with its lochans. Over the Bealach Altain Ruaridh I had my first sight of Bendronaig in its quiet strath. The route from the bealach down to the Bendronaig track was as rough as I  remembered it. There was a lot more water in the Ling than there had been in the heatwave (remember those?) of 2008.

Sheasgaich and Ben Dronaig

Ling from bridge

Challengers nearing bothy - clouds thickening

Rain was coming on as I reached the bothy. Lots of Challengers were inside having lunch and hoping the rain would go off. It didn’t. Waterproofs on for the rest of the day – and for much of the rest of the Challenge. The wobbly bridge after Bendronaig was interesting – no evidence of how the slats were attached – I had stepped across a trickle of a burn last time.

Loch Calavie was grey under a leaden sky.

Loch Calavie - weather getting gey dreich

I had planned to camp where a shieling was marked at the east end of the loch. “Shieling” on the map often marks a good camping place – it tends to be level, sheltered, with a good water supply, as it is a relic of historical transhumance, when cattle were taken up to the high pastures in the summer. The practice still happens in some mountain countries like Ladakh.  However, it was too early to stop so I decided to go on till I ran out of reasonable track, or energy. Les and Issy were pitching at a good spot – I went on a bit further and found flattish spot above the Gead Loch - the Blairgowrie team were going on further – I hoped they’d find some flat ground among the deep heather.

It was still at first then the wind rose, rustling the tent.

Saturday 11^th May: Gead Loch to Strath Farrar

I had read of the pathless slog to Pait and it was a slog, as was the stretch from Pait over the bealach to Strath Farrar. Knee-deep heather that grabbed the ankles, and peat hags, wet and slippery, dotted with pine roots. Every time you thought you’ve picked a good line you hit another black oozing trench. Weather dreich, rain on and off.

Approaching Pait

Negotiating the high gate from Pait on to the hill was probably the most dangerous bit of the whole trip. The hinges no longer attached the gate to the gatepost, so I decided to climb over at the other end, where a chain attached gate to post. The gate wobbled violently when I was half-way over, so I grabbed the top of the gatepost - mistake! the base had disintegrated and the post was even more unsteady than the gate.

I had planned to go up the west bank of the Allt Riabachain and cross high up but spotted a bridge lower down and used it. Jay was pitched just upstream from it. We both decided that contouring round the north side of Meallan Buidhe and up to the bealach between it and the hill to the east, was the best option.



Approaching the bealach

The bealach was the usual boggy morass, but at last I was down in Strath Farrar, first on a path, then a track which eventually became tarmac. Burns were full, with dramatic waterfalls. There was snow high up on the big hills at the head of the glen – it was still winter up here.


High up in Strath Farrar - still snow on hills above

As I crossed the Monar dams, icy wind was turning wave tops white. I met Jay again at a sheltered spot below the dam.

In the deep gorge of the Garbh Uisge below the second dam, there were many birds in its comparative shelter, including gulls.

Further down the glen, vegetation greener, and a moment's sunlight

As I went further down the glen it became flatter and greener – more like the spring which hadn’t yet reached the high glen. Weather was improving. Cuckoos called, woodpeckers drummed, a pair of wheatears chased each other in the grounds of Braulen Lodge.

Near Braulen Lodge

Approaching the area where I hoped to camp, I thought it didn’t look promising – the knoll between track and river was rough, steep and heathery. However, a few yards further on, a lovely level grassy meadow was revealed on the east side, beside the Allt Uchd Rodha. Perfect. A short while later Emma and Stan arrived. A dry, pleasant evening, in contrast to the previous one.

Inchvuilt Wood from camp

Sunday 12^th May: Strath Farrar to Strath Glass

River Farrar at camp

A showery day, as I wandered down the lower part of Strath Farrar, spring advancing as I descended, everything gradually becoming greener, beech and birch leaves translucent in the sunlight.



River Farrar looking downstream



The number of trees increased, some of them so ancient that it was a wonder they still stood.



More and more trees as I went further down the glen

Some of them incredibly old

There was much evidence of former occupation of the glen. Many ruined houses, that once must have housed a lively community - not such a lonely life as one might think, though in those days the glen must have been more isolated than it is now - several vehicles passed as I walked. But perhaps not a life for a family - read "Isolation Shepherd"



A memorial to a resident of the glen



One of several ruins in this part of the glen.

This tree dominated the view down the glen for some distance



Spring in the lower glen

A last look at the snow high up in the glen

Sunlight on one of the lochs

I met a couple who asked if I was on the Challenge – he had done the very first one. Jane caught up with me and we walked the rest of the day together. The glen was noticeably quieter than Glen Affric, a result of the restriction on vehicle numbers. Sadly that hadn’t stopped people dumping rubbish in a cattle grid.

The bottom of Strath Farrar where it joins Strath Glass

Strath Glass was flat and fertile. The last stretch of the day was a bit of a slog, up a pleasant but steep old forest track to where I hoped to find a pitch for the night – it turned out there was nowhere around the bridge but I found a good spot a little further on – a grassy patch beside the path, trees around, with a view out over them to the hills on other side of Strath Glass.

 ytgMonday 13^th May: Strath Glass to Drumnadrochit

The morning weather alternated sunshine and showers as usual. On this trip I was taking the advice of a 2011 Challenger who assured me that bundling a sopping wet Laserlite into a poly bag and attaching it to the outside of the rucksack was the way to go in wet weather - no need to keep the dry inner and wet outer separate - it worked! As promised, the inner dried in minutes after I put the tent up in the evening.

A lovely grassy track at the start soon gave way to felled forest – I checked the GPS every so often  to make sure I wasn’t on the wrong track, after finding a sizeable lochan not on the 1:50,000 map, which was a bit unnerving.

I met the Beauly to South-East England power line construction site just before the Glen Urquhart road – lots of “Keep Out” notices despite assurances from the administrative staff about rights of way.

The walk through Buntait, avoiding  the main road, is lovely – spring had really arrived here. It's a popular area, with several new houses.

Buntait road

River Glass

Shewglie

 I decided I had to visit Shewglie, which turned out to be large baronial-style edifice in a rather startling shade of peach – lots of construction work going on around it, and lots of brand new wooden gates.

A pleasant walk led along grassy tracks through fields, then there was a half-hidden entrance to a very old and little-used track through woods – a great alternative to the forest track which it eventually joined, which went all the way to just above Drumnadrochit.



Entrance to the old track not very clear



Pleasanter walking than a hard forestry road



Challengers vanishing into the distance

 I stopped at Lochletter after spotting a notice inviting Challengers to  a nearby farm cottage for tea, coffee and cakes – I met the Dunsires and Marianne and Willem there. What a lovely idea, an open invitation to us all!



Felling operations give a clear view of Glen Urquhart

 I got funny looks from lots of “short stroll” walkers on the track. The route down from the main track into Drumnadrochit was not very clear, mainly due to new signed paths through woodland, but it was pleasant walking. The last bit through Drumnadrochit to Borlum was a bit of a slog.



Loch Ness appears in the distance



A pleasant path in woodland above Drumnadrochit

Borlum, with stables and a camp site, was nice and friendly. They had kept a food parcel for me. Being around horses brought home to me how much I was missing my own. My friend Lisa arrived from Inverness and we went to a pub and caught up on news. She had brought her new dog, a charming pointer called Daisy. It rained heavily that evening with a high wind blasting the tent - slept well just the same. I would have to be up early in the morning to get to the ferry for eight o'clock in case I could get a place on the first boat.



Tuesday 14^th May: Drumnadrochit to Allt an Doire Leathain

Drumnadrochit

A brisk walk in the early morning sunshine got me to Temple Pier in plenty of time and I was lucky enough to get a place on the first boat.

The local ducks obviously knew that breakfast would be served on board.
We had an unusual view of the castle from the water.

We quickly arrived at Inverfarigaig Pier and leapt/scrambled/floundered ashore, before setting off at a quick march/purposeful walk/ leisurely meander.

I stopped at a Forestry Commission picnic site at the foot of the glen and got the stove out for a second breakfast.


The glen was lovely, with sunlight shining through the leaves of the birch trees and flowers bordering the road.



Primroses

Wood anemones

The water in the burn tumbling down the gorge alongside was deep peaty brown, with brilliant amber where the light shone through it.

 Near the top of the glen I spotted a residential development opportunity - however I think a lot of drainage work would be required.

After going round the north-east end of Loch Mhor I cut up the track from Farraline towards Dunmaglass Lodge.



Looking back towards Farraline and Loch Mhor



Challengers on the track above Farraline

After battering a way through the trees above Dunmaglass, and (like several others, I gather) strolling past the front door, my route led by a convenient track up into the Monadhliaths, an area I had only visited on bad-weather day walks, Munro-bagging from the A9. I was curious to see what the broad expanses of the north-western parts were like. Massive stretches of mostly gently rounded heather hills, alive with grouse, was the answer.

I decided on my FWA, as the alternative involved a walk along the watershed above the A9, a route which really demands a fine day with good visibility for the views. So I followed the Allt an Doire Leathain up into the hills.

I had tentatively picked a camp a couple of kilometres up the track, but it didn't look inviting, and it was still early, so I kept on going to the hut at the top of the track. By now I was encountering snow patches.

The hut was open, and some people were using it as a meal-stop. I planned first to do likewise, then thought "Why put up the tent?" and slept in the hut. It was convenient, but colder than the tent would have been. It snowed later in the evening but it had melted by morning.



Wednesday 15^th May: Allt an Doire Leathain to Findhorn-Dulnain hills

Next morning I discovered a problem. I had sloshed through a couple of shallow fords the previous day, as I have done hundreds of times before. This trip, however, I had put sorbothane insoles in my boots, anticipating more road-walking than usual. During the night, they had absorbed the water from my wet boots and swelled up, leaving my feet with considerably less room even after attempts to wring them out. Today was going to be uncomfortable.

The terrain at the start of the day was uninviting - trackless peat hags. I wondered how the others had got on last night, continuing after the hut. I couldn't see anywhere much to pitch tents. I was glad to reach the tracks that would take me eventually down to the Findhorn.



Approaching the Findhorn down the Allt Calder

First glimpse of the strath of the Findhorn

 The Findhorn meanders down a broad grassy strath. Birdwatchers were aiming binoculars and cameras at oystercatchers near the water. High in the glen were several ruins, though further down, some buildings had obviously been recently renovated for estate use.

Remains of enclosures

Looking down the strath.

Coignafeunternich ruins

 It was raining pretty steadily by now and I just got the head down and plodded on, trying to ignore the discomfort of my feet. I crossed the bridge to Coignafeuinternich, passed the ruins, and set off up the track over Carn Easgain Mor.

To my surprise, coming down Carn Easgainn Mor to rejoin the Allt Fionndairnich, I found an estate hut, unfortunately locked this time, but providing welcome shelter from the wind for my tent. I was tired, probably as a result of nursing sore feet over rough ground, and ready to stop, though I hadn't covered as much distance as I'd planned.

I used the verandah of the hut to cook in relative shelter and comfort. I had been starting to worry about the gas canister - a different make from usual, and it didn't seem to be giving as much power as I'd expected - I normally don't have to turn my Primus Alpine stove up very high to heat water quickly, and now it was turned up full and taking ages. Using a selection of Outdoor Grub's "eat out of the pouch" meals, and soaking oatmeal overnight for porridge, I hadn't had the stove on for very long each day. I decided to keep my phone on next day and as soon as I got a signal I'd text the friend who was meeting me at Kincraig and ask her to bring a replacement canister.

Next morning was dry, the wind had dropped and the tend was stiff with frost.

I decided to try walking with two pairs of socks and no insoles, to see if that was more comfortable.


Thursday 16th May: Dulnain to Kincraig

The track past the bothy unfortunately went south-west, and I was headed south-east to Kincraig, so after a short distance, which involved a patch of hard snow, it was more peat-hags and knee-deep heather.



Looking back at the bothy from where I left the track

I followed the grassy banks of a burn up towards the bealach south of Carn Coire na h-Easgain, and down rough heathery slopes to the upper Dulnain.

Grass beside the burn made for easier walking

Back to the peat hags, this morning decorated with a powdering of snow

The Dulnain comes into view

At one point, about to take a photo, I moved a couple of steps to the side, and a grouse squawked up from my feet. Glancing down, I saw her nest, pointed the camera and pressed the shutter, then moved quickly away. First time I've seen a grouse nest. Hope she got back to it quickly - I kept going for a good long way before stopping.

The Dulnain, looking upstream

The Dulnain, looking downstream

 Following the river down was fairly easy walking. I crossed it quite high up, to a faint track.

At times a bit of boulder-hopping was needed

I passed a hut on the other side, then the track turned up over the north-east ridge of Carn Dulnan, passing some communication masts - so that's why I'd got a signal high on the slopes above the upper Dulnain.

Looking back at the Dulnain - hut just visible

Why I got a phone signal?



Cairngorms come into view

Where the track crosses the Feithlinn, which then joins the Dulnain, I found a bothy which made a good lunch spot before the final pull up to Carn Coire Dhugain and the long descent to the A9.

"For goodness sake, hurry up and take my photo"

"Have you come to feed us?"

Even the geese at Leault Farm are fairly tame

Fresh fruit! Lettuce!

After stocking up at Kincraig, it was down to Milehouse, beside Loch Insch, A friend was to meet me there to walk with me for the next three days, through the Cairngorms to Spittal of Glenshee. By next morning I was showered and clean, the sorbothane insoles were reduced to their proper size by morning, boots were dry, clothes washed and dry.


Friday 17th May: Kincraig to Eidart

Irene and I set off from Milehouse through Inschriach Forest on a pleasant sunny morning. For me, Glen Feshie has always been somewhere on the way to high hills, and it was nice to enjoy the glen for its own sake, at a leisurely pace.



Inschriach Forest

Wood anemones

Wood sorrel

Looking upstream from the bridge near Stronetoper

Looking downstream from the bridge

We looked up into Coire Garbhlach, which had been the start of our proposed high level route, but from what we'd seen and heard, it would have involved plodding through snow the consistency of porridge, and we had already decided that exploring the upper Feshie and the Geldie was a better option.

Looking up into Coire Garbhlach

The amount of work that has been done on the paths is very noticeable all the way up the glen.

This tree seems to have started by leaning one way then changed its mind.

I might have expected to see more water in the Feshie

Primroses

Waterfall opposite Creag Bheag

Irene doesn't like slugs, especially when she finds them crawling towards the tent entrance - Pacerpoles come in handy for Slug Golf.

Saturday 18th May: Feshie to Fealar Lodge

The weather had changed by morning - grey and dreich. We had camped just before the River Eidart, which looked dramatic as it roared under the bridge. 

After leaving the Feshie and crossing the watershed, we went down to have a look at the Geldie, which had a lot of water in it even high up. We decided to cross over rather than following the path down to Fords of Bynack and risking not being able to get across there. To begin with, the walking was fairly easy, on the flat grass bordering the river, but it became progressively rougher, with knee-deep heather catching the legs at every step. The weather, too, was deteriorating further - wet, cold and windy - altogether pretty miserable. I was glad to have Irene's cheery company for this bit of the trip.

Near the top of the Geldie

We stopped at the ruined Bynack Lodge for hot soup, which cheered us up a bit. We had thought of camping somewhere up the Allt an t-Seilich but everywhere was wet, windswept and uninviting. Suddenly we were on the bealach, a featureless boggy expanse. We headed off on a compass bearing over Sidhean Bealaidh, from which we glimpsed Loch Tilt briefly through the mist and rain (no photos from this bit - cameras tucked away in waterproof bags). A post briefly glimpsed on the skyline gave us something to aim for between Meall na Cailleach Buidhe and Meall Chrombalg, from where we followed traces of tracks down towards Fealar Lodge. We were quite sure we'd navigated accurately in the mist, and the lie of the land matched the map, but where was the forest that should have been on the south-west of Meall Chrombal? We should have been following the edge of it. We came to the conclusion that the land was zoned for forestry but not yet planted.



Nearing Fealar Lodge - not a tree in sight, despite what the map shows.

All was quiet at Fealar as we passed through - and back - and through - as I tried to pick up our onward track. I really must listen to Irene in matters of precise micro-navigation through steadings - she's the one who runs mountain marathons.

A short way after Fealar, we found a little flat patch of grass in a sheltered gully - this would do. Miraculously, the rain stopped, and we got the tent up. I sat down in the tent for a minute and fell asleep.


Sunday 19th May: Fealar to Spittal of Glenshee

Next morning we woke in mist, but no rain.

We packed up and set off over the south-west shoulder of Carn Dearg, down across the Allt a' Ghlinne Bhig, and up to the bealach between Carn an Righ and Mam nan Carn. I remembered camping in this area many years ago, in late May, and waking to find the world outside white with snow. This time everything was white with mist as we plodded up the corrie, with only one snow patch, and the mist was drifting and breaking up slowly.

Near the bealach we noticed a couple of posts with rings, and a cairn-like shelter nearby - we reckon this would probably be where stalkers with ponies would wait till they were sent for to collect a stag carcass.

At last we reached Loch nan Eun, the loch of the birds. There were no birds in evidence when we were there - all was perfectly still - the silence you only find so rarely even high in the Scottish hills - no faint rushing of a distant burn, or even the whisper of the wind on the grass. Glimpses of the surrounding hills came and went as the mist moved.

At the loch's outlet, the burn tumbled down into a series of waterfalls, beside which the path zigzagged down steeply.Beyond, we could see the long stretch of Glen Taitneach winding down to the Spittal.

Near the foot of the glen Irene began to look out for her father, who was coming to meet us. Behind us, the hills through which we had walked in the morning mist were tiny in the distance.

At the hotel, we met people who had run there from Blairgowrie - an inconceivable feat by my standards. We also met several Challengers, and I decided to treat myself to a night's B&B. Irene and her father set off for home, saying, "It'll all be easy now - just across the foot of the Angus glens and you're done."





Monday 20th May: Spittal of Glenshee to Kilbo, Glen Prosen

The first part of the day's route led along the Cateran Trail, then up to Loch Beanie. I encountered several Challengers, all moving briskly compared to me.  It was a fine morning, inviting lots of photo-stops.
Loch Beanie was a quiet, peaceful spot - it would be pleasant to camp there some time. It even has a beach!

Looking back at Spittal of Glenshee from the Cateran Trail



Looking back at Spittal from the path to Loch Beanie





Loch Beanie

Loch Beanie



Loch Beanie

From the loch I walked up through rough heather to the bealach south-east of Monamenach where I picked up a track down into Glen Isla at Auchavan. A fine new bridge took me across the river to Dalhally and a picturesque burn with, unfortunately, a dead deer at its edge - I wondered where the house at Dalhally gets its water supply!

Looking over to Glen Isla

Coming down into Glen Isla

New bridge in Glen Isla

Burn above Dalhally

Looking back across Glen Isla from above Dalhally

The stretch up Mid Hill towards Bawhelps was a bit of a slog - a fairly featureless stony track - better than knee-deep heather and peat hags, I suppose. The snow patch on the skyline never seemed to get any nearer. The weather was deteriorating too - an icy cold wind and intermittent sleety rain. I decided to give the summit of Bawhelps a miss - it looked like just another featureless heathery lump.

Skyline between Mid Hill and Craig Lair

The extraordinarily- named Bawhelps - a very ordinary hill

I planned to get down into Glen Prosen via the Glack of Balquhader, which looked quite steep on the map, and on approach, but it turned out straightforward - a quick way down to where a smooth patch of grass beside the burn invited a tent. The weather improved again and I sat outside eating dinner and wondering here the Challengers I'd seen in the morning were camped now. I thought I'd seen someone on the Kilbo track as I pitched the tent.



The Glack of Balquhader, easier than the map suggested



Camp below the Glack, looking towards Kilbo

Tuesday 21st May: Kilbo to Glen Moy.

I was up and away early next morning. Snoring was emanating from an Akto pitched near the track just before Kilbo.

Where there had been only a ruin before, at Kilbo, there was now a sizeable building going up, and as I walked on down the track I met several vehicles coming up.

Something I noticed all over the Angus glens was the presence of traps on poles placed over ditches - none seemed to have caught anything - I wondered if they were to trap rats.

The White Glen

Looking back up towards the White Glen, it was obvious how it had got its name, as the grass made the place look so much paler than the dark heather-covered hills I had crossed on the previous day.

Further down the glen, Glen Prosen Lodge was undergoing extensive renovation and extension, again with a lot of people working there.

As I went further down the glen, everything got greener and more fertile-looking. Ground was being drained and ploughed. Looking across to Balnaboth, I could see what looked like a big variety of trees planted, and somewhere I could hear what sounded like a peacock screeching, adding an exotic touch to the sound of cuckoos, peewits and whaups, and various unidentified little brown twittering things in the hedges.

After a long stretch on a hard surface, it was a relief to turn off up a grassy track, which led up on to the shoulder of Cairn Leith - grouse moor country again, with many grouse butts.

Cairn Leith

Grouse butt

Glen Cally

 The burn in Glen Cally was easily crossed, then it was a long plod up over the Sneck of Corinch and down into Glen Clova.

Glen Clova from Sneck of Corinch

People often joke about finding a dead sheep in a burn after taking water from just downstream, but I was glad not to have camped beside the burn I followed down from the Sneck of Corinch.

What you don't want to find upstream from your camp

Looking across to track leading up from Gella

Glen Clova

 I crossed the bridge over the South Esk at Gella, where I knew there was a new track over the hill to Glen Moy. What I didn't bargain for was the way it wandered back and forth in huge zig-zags, making for a long walk.

Glencuilt in distance, several zigzags away

Approaching Glencuilt

 Not being sure of a good camping place further on, I pitched camp beside the Burn of Glenmoye, on  a pleasant, dry evening. Could the weather be improving? Could summer be on the way?




Camp beside the Burn of Glenmoye

 


Wednesday 22nd May: Glen Moy to Caterthuns

I had planned to go over Auld Darkeney, just because of the name, but it didn't look all that enticing, and I wasn't sure if I might encounter some of the famous Angus double electric fences, so stuck to where I had a continuous track, via Hillsise, Buckies and Baikies to Genogil.

Hillside looked inhabited, but all was quiet as I passed in the early morning. I looked back at yesterday's route, over the Sneck of Corinch, now on the skyline.



Looking back towards Sneck of Corinch

 Buckies was an old steading, derelict and sad-looking though the area has obviously been inhabited since early times, as hut and field systems are marked on the map nearby.

Buckies from track

Buckies from another ruin

Approaching Buckies steading

Buckies chimney

  Further on, Baikies was still in use.

The track followed woodland to Glenogil.

The sun was out, birds were singing, Glen Ogil was green and lovely after the bleak moorland. Flowers bloomed at the roadsides, sunlight shone through fresh young leaves.

A picturesque lochan reflected the morning light.

On the spur of the moment I decided to continue along the road rather than going up along the Menmuir Hills. As I reached the place where I would have turned off, a bitterly cold wind convinced me I was right. That was summer, that was.

To begin with it was interesting looking at the immaculately drilled fields, and all the work going on, but after a while that palled; however, when heavy rain squalls started I was glad not to be high up on the Menmuir Hills, but sheltering behind the village hall at Kirkton of Menmuir.







When I reached the road leading up to the Caterthuns, and saw a little sheltered wood beside the road, it seemed a more attractive camp spot than the top of one of the iron age forts, which was where I had originally planned to camp. The wind was rising and rain squalls were becoming ever more frequent. I pitched the tent and walked up to have a look at the forts - the sort of place that demands more time than I had on a cold evening with dinner beckoning from the tent.

Later that night I felt cosy and secure as the wind and rain blasted the tent.


Thursday 23rd May: Caterthuns to Montrose

With a long road walk in prospect, I packed up quickly and set off, promising myself a fry-up at the services at Stracathro. The weather wasn't great, and the camera was tucked away in its waterproof bag in the rucksack for most of the day. I managed to turn a shortcut into a long way round at Chapelton and Cairndrum, where there were new buildings where I expected a track. After Stracathro I ran into Jean Turner, who recommended the tearoom at House of Dun; however I found the back gate I would have used was now padlocked, so decided to revert to my original plan of using a marked track via Langley Park to avoid some main road - the track ran out in undergrowth so I cut down on to the main road a little earlier than intended and followed it to the "Montrose" sign, where I got the camera out.

After that there was the prospect of tricky navigation through Montrose - though it turned out that all Montrose residents, seeing a weary walker with a large rucksack, merely ask whether you want to be directed to the camp site or the Park. Then down to the sea, dip the boots in the water, fix a distinctive carabiner to the tent in the camp site so as to be sure of identifying it later, and dinner at the Park.

The North Sea



Dip feet in sea

The camp site, conveniently close to the shore

Tent city beginning to gather