Photos

Coasting Along

24/03/201924/03/2019Kevin JohnstonLeave a comment

With Brexit and Ecksit dominating the headlines, Neil, Dave, Tony and I headed to St. Andrews for some escapism and a weekend adventure. On the Saturday Neil and I decided to walk some of the Fife Coastal Trail from Lower Largo to Anstruther. That was the escapism from Barnier and May. The adventure came in the form of the Elie Chain Walk, a tide level section that involves much rock hopping and dangling from metal chains over fear inducing heights and white, bubbly seas.

Dumbarnie Links was blowy but looked lovely in the warmth of the morning sun. Old WW2 barriers were dotted around the sand like chocolate squares. We walked past Ruddon’s Point and Shell Bay and reached Kincraig Hill, where the adventure really got going.

Caves and strange rock formations were admired and explored as the sea cliffs rose up above us. From here, we worked our way around the rocky peninsula using the chains and good balance.

It took us about 45 minutes to get from the start to the end of the chain walk where we reached the next beach.

As well as the basalt columns we saw buzzards, kestrels and even a peregrine falcon.

When we finally came out onto the beach, we found a top spot and lunched with sushi and rolls and fruit pastilles. Sitting, we quickly cooled after our scrambling so got moving again and passed St. Monan’s and Pittenweem and some old buildings on the way.

By this point we were getting close to our destination at Anstruther. Our prize was going to be some Anstruther chips so onward we strode past the rising tide.

The chips we ate while sat at the harbour were the tastiest I’ve ever had. Crunchy and dipped in brown sauce. Although we were so tired that I could have been eating a raw tattie and considered it a delicacy.

It is worth pointing out that if Theresa May scrambled her way over the Elie Chain Walk in the same way she has scrambled through the Brexit process, she would have gotten pretty wet. Anyway…

I’m keen on further adventures in Fife and its coastal trail. But a week away to Boat of Garten is coming up fast. Back to the mountains.

Cottaging on Dava Moor

29/07/2018Kevin JohnstonLeave a comment

I have a dream. To live in an old cottage far away from civilisation. And every now and then I travel over Dava Moor (between Nairn and Grantown on Spey) and I can see the remains of what must have been a well populated area in days gone by. Old and derelict cottages, tracks and bridges can be seen in amongst the heather and peat of the moor.

A holiday in Carrbridge presented itself as a great opportunity to take a closer look. An early start meant I caught the sun rising over the moor and some of the abandoned buildings.

My route around the cottages at Easter Crannich, Wester Crannich, Anaboard and Rychorrach totalled about 7km and the warm air and lack of breeze were really noticeable, even at 5am. A breakfast of wild raspberries was pretty tasty and more refreshing than the nutrigrain bars I’d packed.

Anaboard Cottage – The fireplace gives an idea of when the lintel was put in.

Wester Crannich Cottage – The most ruined of the four buildings with no roof or internal fittings but lovely stonework.

The last two cottages were the most interesting. Quite snazzy if you like your history.

Easter Crannich Cottage – Very steep steps and horrendous contemporary wallpaper downstairs. But upstairs I found a wall plastered in old newspaper, the newspaper in question being The Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News. Not one you’ll see in the stands today as the last day of publication was in 1970. And it reported on just what the title suggests, sports and theatre.

I’m assuming the newspaper was used as an insulator, as I imagine winters in Dava would be pretty chilly. The date on the paper was pretty interesting, Saturday 25th March 1905. 1905!!!!….

Rychorrach Cottage – A beautiful setting higher up with views for miles, including the Cairngorms. The occupants of this house had followed the lead of the Easter Crannich residents and put extra insulation on the wall, but had taken the idea a step further, thicker cardboard boxes this time instead of newsprint.

They were tacked to the walls incredibly neatly and looked almost artistic as the collage of brands wouldn’t look out of place in a gallery. Corn Flakes, Vim and Scott’s Oats, which are still going strong today. Others I’d never heard of such as Smedley’s carrots and Oxydol washing powder.

The most interesting box was one labelled dried eggs and “For European Recovery” and was part of the post-WW2 Marshall Plan to revitalise Western Europe. A fascinating discovery and quite something to see the item in real life and how it was used after.

I found a calendar at the house from the year 1950. And after a bit of research I think the last occupier was a man called James McDonald. Maybe he was the decorator but I can’t be certain, there isn’t much online about Rychorrach to be sure.

On the one hand what a lucky man to have lived in such a beautiful place, especially in summertime. But what a harsh existence it must have been for James, his family and the previous generations of McDonald’s who farmed there and at other cottages on the moor in winter conditions

Would I live there? Probably. 21st century heating is a wonderful thing.

Where’s Kirsty?

13/10/201718/07/2018Kevin JohnstonLeave a comment

At McGregor’s Cave near Kinloch Rannoch of course.

Sharing Suilven

19/08/201718/07/2018Kevin JohnstonLeave a comment

Leaving the house at 4.30am, the murky morning mist poked some tiny holes in my enthusiasm and, for a second, made me question the wisdom of driving four and a half hours north. The forecast looked good. Yet the fog became thicker as I passed Pitlochry and even from the roadside near Elphin, Suilven was nowhere to be seen. A mountain with a distinctive shape, recognisable from all angles, rising from the relative flatness of the Assynt estates all around, it was elusive. Parking up near Glencanisp Lodge, Suilven had decided to show its skirt and the mist was beginning to clear. It was warm as I passed the honesty shop at the lodge and the road turned to track, but progress was still quick and with every turn in the track, the mountain became clearer.

I reached the bothy after an hour and a quarter. Suileag has two rooms, each with a working fireplace and sleeping platforms. My overnight gear dropped and laid out, I was ready to fall into my sleeping bag when I returned that night.

On I went through the treeless Glencanisp forest and after crossing the footbridge over the Abhainn na Clach Airigh, I turned off the track and found myself on the first section of a newly created path leading up towards Loch a’ Choire Dubh. By this stage I could see the full Suilven profile and I have to say I was a bit excited. I’d wanted to climb Suilven for as long as I’d been a walker. A hill walker mind, not a toddler. And here I was. Completely in awe. Why hadn’t I come up before? The final steep scramble to the Bealach Mor was tough. But the rewards were huge as the top of the pass was reached with views south across Stac Pollaidh, Cul Mor, Ben More Assynt. And more.

The final push to the top at Caistel Liath was short but glorious. I could see for miles, blue sky and sea surrounding the rough coastline and mountain landscape. A paraglider lugged his 15kg of machine parts just behind me and since he looked shattered from the effort, I headed off towards the other, more pointed end of the ridge. A footstep here, a scramble there. I didn’t make the peak of Meall Meadhonach. I value my various body parts.

One curious point about the day was the wall. A wall that cuts Suilven in half and runs down both sides as far as the terrain will allow. A stunning piece of work. And whether built as a joke between neighbouring estates, or for a labour creation scheme, the splitting in half of the hill adds a sense of symmetry to the view and a neat human-made addition to nature’s Scottish sugarloaf mountain.

Back to the bothy and the company of T and C, a fire in the grate and a bottle of Highland Park. More sharing. Company. Whisky. Heat. Suilven looked glorious in the evening sunshine, the breeze meaning I didn’t need to share the view with the midges. Later at dusk, as the sun went down, the mountain was ablaze, the red a major contrast compared to earlier in the day, the red rainbow a bonus touch.