I wake to the sun streaming into my tent. It’s too hot. Almost suffocating. Groaning I reach for my phone to check the time. 9.44am. What now!?? How did that happen!?? I must have been feeling very comfortable indeed.
It is a quick pack up – not even my morning coffee – and I am away, still looking in awe around me as I climb to the pass.
On the other side, I see a steep mountain, and the River Almond trickling along at the base. It’s a choose your own adventure style to get to the bottom. I follow what I suspect is a sheep trail, and it proves to be a good choice. A little boggy in places, but it takes me to the river in good time. Pleasing also is that it’s an easy crossing to get to the far side, and I’m right on the gravel road I need to follow next.
It’s easy trail. Babbling river, bird song and mountains a kaleidoscope of colours. I see old ruins and a monument cairn to folks whom lost their lives in the great war.
I leave the trail with excitement. I’ve been looking forward to the next section, and it doesn’t disappoint. Steep mountains form a deep ravine, up which the track meanders above a slowly running creek.
I come across several lochs, all larger and more peaceful than the last. The sunny day sets them afire in dazzling silvers and blues. So much flare compared to the staid, steady mountains. Again, the remote feeling and beauty of what I am observing makes me feel blessed in a way that only working hard and persevering to see something does.
From here, the day becomes more pragmatic. I had been hoping to make camp somewhere around Loch Freuchie, but on looking at it, that idea is quickly ruled out. Too many people, houses, roads and open paddocks. So, I begin a road walk which I know is eventually going to take me up a very steep incline, before levelling out on the moors.
I’m not thrilled about going up there, uncertain if I will find somewhere sheltered enough or suitable to stay. Despite looking frantically about, I begin the climb. Part-way up, I spot what might be a reprieve. An old ruin. I need to go through a fence to get in there, but the ground is flat, there are no sheep (currently) and I can pitch my tent behind a wall, so no nearby houses can see me.
I look up the rules for Scottish wild camping again, and decide that I am comfortable enough to stay. So, that was a big bonus. And further, I’m already part-way up the hill! Let the good times roll on!
This article was originally published on The Trek which can be found here
Saw those ruins on the satellite map and wondered what they were! Now I know that it was “Melly’s Camp”… another interesting day! I wonder if those little lochs are what we call “tarns” in the mountain areas of Oz??