St. Cuthbert's Way: Kirk Yetholm - Lindisfarne

Distance: 30.4 miles (49km)  
Ascent/Descent: 1040m/1140m  
Start/Finish: Kirk Yetholm To Lindisfarne  
Terrain: Grassy/boggy hill paths then farm tracks & quiet roads
Transport: Munro's buses serves Kirk Yetholm. Berwick-upon-Tweed is stop on main East coast train line, with shuttle buses to Lindisfarne (Mon - Sat)
Route: Route Map
St. Cuthbert's Way Stages: Prev [1] 2

Summary
The "other" half of the St. Cuthbert's Way starts in the Cheviot Hills, leaving them behind at Wooler and crossing moors and flood-plains to St. Cuthbert's cave, eventually dropping via woodland and fields to the North Sea and onto the Holy Island (either using the pilgrim's path direct over the sand, or the causeway, depending on tide and will).

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A rare, exotic blog post since most of the second half of St. Cuthbert's Way is abroad in England.  Just two and a half hours of jogging over the Cheviots since breakfast, and I was hearing Geordie.  Fantastic!

We'd enjoyed a good evening at the Border Hotel - nice food, seem to be the place to go around here.  Waking up this morning, the wind was battering the window of the B&B and a peek through the curtains revealed an ominous low cloud-base and general darkness across the valley.  My dad & I ate our breakfast leisurely, and the hostess did much to help us plan our day ahead, even coming through with her laptop and printing off maps.  She'd had a group of guests the week before who'd just finished "the Spine" footrace - i.e. the 268mile length of the Pennine Way.  I'm glad there are nutters like that in the world.

Start/End of Pennine Way, Border Hotel behind

There was loads of breakfast and I stuffed most of it down, you'd think I'd settled for sitting in front of the telly all day.  Turns out it was very mild outside, the strong wind would be mostly side-on, slightly behind, the sun would even make a mid-day appearance and the hat and gloves would come off.  That was all fine but I was a bit disappointed that all the snow had been washed away, and I dreaded to think how muddy it was going to be after the thaw...  I worried too much - it was all going to be fine, other than the lingering fatigue from yesterday as to be expected, and that feeling of slow progress like yesterday.  It's all relative.

The plan was to meet back up with ground control a.k.a. dad at Wooler, 13 miles from Kirk Yetholm across the border, have a coffee there, then later in the afternoon try and meet up again somewhere around St. Cuthbert's Cave given there was a car-park and walks in the area for my dad.  The tide timetables for the Holy Island causeway looked favourable, it would more likely be daylight that would force a schedule here.

Goodbye to the Pennine Way

There are very few of those National Trail "acorn" signposts in Scotland (we use the thistle up here), but the few of them you'll find are on the stretch of Pennine Way between Kirk Yetholm and the English border.  St. Cuthbert's Way joins the Pennine Way for a couple of miles into the Cheviot hills, steep tarmac at first, then onto a good trail up the grassy contours of Green Humbleton.  No doubt like everyone else who walks/runs/whatevers the St. Cuthbert's Way, I spent a moment's contemplation at the final "acorn" signpost where St. Cuthbert's pilgrims are routed away from the pedestrian equivalent of the M6 to Manchester.  Its actually part of "E2" now I think, prochane arrêt, Nice. I'd never thought of the Cheviot Hills as being so cosmopolitan.

Within minutes of leaving the Pennine Way behind, I was at border control - which currently comprises a stone wall on the crest of a ridge, but plenty ancient hill forts around to remind us how rare a moment in history this is to have such laxity!  From the border it was downhill towards a forest -  that's where you're supposed to go if following the official way, I missed the sign obviously, and accidentally tresspassed along sheep paths to the N side of the Elsdon Burn (a burn, in England?).  Realising my mistake I was able to rejoin the correct route after the trees.

Descending to the Elsdon Burn - you're supposed to go through  the trees

The route follows a good farmtrack down to a farm, which I guess makes sense, then its tarmac road for a bit, but more like the farmer's driveway than a road, very peaceful and a nice valley setting.  This is followed down to the hamlet of Hethpool and the valley of the College Burn.  Now here's an area well worth further exploration, it looks like a great approach to climbing the 815m Cheviot - I guess you could come back via the Pennine Way as well.  I think this whole area warrants further exploration, and with a bicycle too, lots of empty roads in nice countryside.

Following Elsdon Burn down to Hethpool

The St. Cuthbert's Way guide (and OS map) indicate there are medieval cultivated terraces down here on the left, but the impromptu nature of this weekend meant I hadn't had time to read-up and so went ignorantly by, past Hethpool and into forest with feral goats watching me through the trees.  It was very wet underfoot along this bit, not much of a path to follow, but it was a nice situation anyway.

Newton Tors, Nothumberland

After threatening to follow a road down off the hills St. Cuthbert's Way suddenly veers right, quite steeply up grassy hillside, eventually onto heather moors behind 361m Yeavering Bell (with its necklace of stones, being another ex-hill-fort).  The expanse and relative flatness of this high area reminded me a bit of the North Yorks Moors, although the snowy bulk of the Cheviot gave things away a bit.

"Burn" after the goats and marshy bit

Its a really nice enjoyable and varied descent from here to Wooler, first back onto grassy rolling hillside, then into forest down to a pretty picnic area with forest walks (sort of place you might take mother for a Sunday drive!?) then back up into more forest before dropping quite steeply down into Wooler.  My dad was at the top of town, having recce-ed for a cafe.  Coffee and scone was had in the seats nearest the door given the amount of mud caked to our hiking trousers.  "Dinnat worry about it," she re-assured us, but still...

300m up on Black Law, Cheviot in background, not far from Wooler...

 During the coffee we discussed where to meet next, and agreed we'd stick to the idea of meeting up around St. Cuthbert's Cave.

Before Wooler, looking W back towards Yeavering Bell

The sun was out and it was warm as I headed down the road, across the busy A697 and a bridge over Wooler Water, where the route heads S through a housing estate before getting back on course for the coast once more, E along a quiet lane towards Weetwood Moor.  It was steep uphill, I'd just had a scone, so I was reduced to a walk.  The hat and gloves were off - so different from yesterday at this moment.  The way leaves the road behind to continue the ascent up onto the moor - up a gouged-out bit of hillside which was quite rough after the road, it was like a natural gutter for the hillside!  Washed-up bits of vegetation and lots of sand deposits.  Was nice to get over a style and out onto open moor, with views around.

The way drops steeply N off Weetwood moor through a bracken-filled nursery of trees, the bracken dead and brown just now but could be interesting in mid-Summer I'd imagine.  From up here there was a great view of the impressive Weetwood Bridge.

Looking N to Weetwood bridge from the edge of Weetwood Moor

A long stretch of road and farm-track followed, the Cheviots were left behind now but it certainly wasn't flat country, up, down, up, down, zig-zagging towards St. Cuthbert's Cave.  The way resorted to fields, some well-and-truly "divotted" by cows, and it was back to mud and a slow pace heading towards the forested hillside of "Cockenheugh" which hosts St. Cuthbert's Cave, and at this moment in time, my dad.  We met up along the nice track through the trees heading NNW.  My dad was as aware as I was of the race-against-daylight that was going on here, and started jogging along too.  Pity I didn't really give the caves a proper visit, but at least my dad got to.

St. Cuthbert's Cave

Back uphill over the last ridge before the North Sea, heather, then grass, with sheep joining in.  My dad had just made the same observation I had a few years ago regarding sheep South of the border..  He asked if I'd noticed how the sheep are different in England, that they don't just get out of the way, and some even run after you?  But in Scotland, sheep always run away?  Hmm, no further questions your honour.

From the high area of Holburn Moss (well that's what its called on the map) I was now looking over the coast, and in spite of the cloud coming back in, Holy Island was clearly visible below.  Although the way did make a V-turn away from it to take in Shiellow Wood.  The route through the trees was nice, although missing a critical sign at one point where a narrow trail cuts away from the forest road where it approaches a house - I guessed my way onto that trail and followed the muddy route down and out of the trees and back onto field-edges, eventually onto a road downhill into the village of Fenwick (no services) where my dad was parked and waiting.  Just over 5 miles to go, most of those on the causeway/island, plenty daylight left, all good!

Changed into shorts and ditched the bag and trail shoes so I could pick the pace up a few gears.  Felt brilliant to bound over the A1 and along the tarmac beyond which I naively hoped would take me all the way to Lindisfarne.  Instead a fingerpost sent me up a mud-ramp which was hard enough standing still on never mind moving forwards), then across a pond (i.e., presently flooded field), then down the side of ploughed fields to cross the East Coast Mainline (very busy - two trains went speeding by in opposite directions as I approached).  The causeway was very close from here.

My dad gives me a head-start onto the causeway.  3.5miles to go...

My dad was parked before the causeway, and it looked clear of water - the notice said we had until 17:45 to get back across.  Game on!

Looking from Holy Is.  The posts across the sand are the "Pilgrims Path"

Even from the causeway, I could just make out the snowy Cheviot Hill about 30 miles inland over my shoulder.  We got into town just before the cafe was closing, so just enough time for a celebratory coffee.  Wandering around very briefly, maybe too briefly, we wanted to get back across that sand-dusted and unlit causeway before it got dark!  It had been another great weekend, and a nice change from doing jobs around the house.

Lindisfarne Priory (Castle behind)

St. Cuthbert's Way Stages: Prev [1] 2

St. Cuthberts Way: Melrose - Kirk Yetholm

Distance: 32 miles (51.5km)  
Ascent/Descent: 1170m/1140m (less 100m & 1mile if you omit Eildon "Mid Hill")  
Start/Finish: Melrose to Kirk Yetholm  
Terrain: Muddy trails, some (very quiet) roads
Transport: First buses, and Munro's buses. Berwick-upon-Tweed is stop on main East coast train line, with shuttle buses to Lindisfarne (Mon - Sat)
Route: Route Map
St. Cuthbert's Way Stages: 1 [2] Next

Summary
Although a low-level route, its fair to say I underestimated the terrain underfoot - and dragging a bike along would be a pain in the @rse, for me at least.  I also underestimated how nice it is, expecting to be spending most of the journey trudging along the rough edges of samey fields. As well as fields there are great rivers, dells, pretty villages, woodlands, moorlands, abbeys, churches, monuments, castles, forts, country parks and country pubs with fire places...

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Melrose Abbey

The idea to spend this weekend exporing the St. Cuthbert's Way occurred just Friday morning, when I discovered the "Met. Office" had filled the map of scotland with sun symbols for all of Saturday.  Well I couldn't let this historic event pass - especially as it had been a wee while since I last headed to the trails.  For the right reasons really, with lot's of stuff needing done (like moving home for example!), but at last I was going to get back to the real world.

Although the decision had been spontaneous I had looked into this route a few months ago, planning to split the run at Kirk Yetholm thus fitting it nicely into two of Winter's short days.  There's a bus to Melrose Saturday morning from Edinburgh, and a train home from Berwick-upon-tweed not too far from the finish at Lindisfarne, but I was gratefully saved from working around public transport when my dad phoned up about something completely unrelated, I told him my intentions, and later he got back to me saying he was "allowed to go".

Looking W from the 422m top of Eildon Mid Hill (a bonus option!)

Saturday morning was stunning as promised.  The car indicated 0-degC outside, and patches of slushy ice lined the sides of the A68.  It wasn't expected to get much warmer than that today so I hoped the freezing temperature would keep all the trails nice and firm.  (Nope).

I parked in the tidy centre of Melrose, from where we walked the short distance to the abbey and  found a nearby cafe in which to take refuge from a bitterly cold breeze.  That breeze would be my tailwind for the day.

The way ahead (snowy Cheviots on horizon)

My dad drove off to Kirk Yetholm, planting my "drop bag" en-route at a lay-by where the St. Cuthberts Way crosses the main road to Kelso.  Then he'd be free to do his walk up in the Cheviots - an area neither of us had explored.  Meanwhile I was jogging up Dingleton Road in search of my first St. Cuthbert's Way marker/sign.  It directed me to run through the wall of someone's house.  A bit further on and there were steps heading down then up through trees and onto the steep slopes of the Eildon Hills, then fences were guiding me up between fields and into gorse and heather, running on semi-frozen mud which was a bit greasy but no dramas.  Apart from that first sign, this was a great start to a long distance path - straight up onto hills renowned for their extensive views.  I was soon upon the saddle of the hills looking over the St. Cuthbert's countryside, with the snow-caked Cheviots - my eventual destination today - looking very, very far away!  In spite of this I couldn't resist taking a detour and climbing to the top of nearby Mid Hill, well worth the extra effort.

Following Bowden Burn towards the R. Tweed

Returning to the saddle, I descended carefully down the ice-glazed hillside into some nice woodland, said hello to a couple of horses in a field, crossed a burn then back up through another wooded hillside before arriving at the very tidy village of Bowden.  Then down to the Bowden Burn, following a cute track along a dell, which wasn't so cute later on where it had been churned up by horses and I could barely walk never mind run.  That's why I was quite glad to reach tarmac road downhill to Newton St. Boswells, signs directing me on a zig-zag course amongst back-yards and eventually down to the Bowden Burn again, which was followed to its confluence with the Tweed.

 The next mile or so was along the banks of the majestic river.  I found the trail surprisingly hard going, lots of steps cutting up and down the wooded embankment, and between the steps was more of that greasy mud.  I probably should have expected this having heard the reports from runners of the inaugural "Three Peaks Ultra Marathon" back in October, which followed this part of the route.

A series of steps interspersed with mud along the banks of the River Tweed

Up another wooded dell into St. Bowswells (presumably the "Oldtown" version) then back down to the river to entertain golfers.  This next stretch reminded me so much of last year's "Thames Trot 50" race which happened to be taking place again today.  Memories of frosty, river-side scenes.

Maxton Church (dedicated to St. Cuthbert)

I left the Tweed at Maxton Church (dedicated to St. Cuthbert) and shortly after began the long boggy and very linear tramp up "Dere Street".  With roads like this its no wonder the romans never got past the Firth of Forth.  Too stubborn to "go around" hills or obstacles.

Excusing the pun, the St.Cuthberts Way religiously follows the roman road for at least 6 miles. After 4 of them I was begging for a corner, but there was stuff to keep me amused.  On the hill to my left was a concrete tardis.  A bit further on, another hill had   a concrete phallus Waterloo Monument.  And after more mud, gorse, and iced-over puddles I came to "Lilliard's Stone". 

Lilliard's Stone, with Dere Street going on, and on, and on..

The way eventually crosses a road and enters a dense plantation, dipping into another nice dell on its way South into Harestanes Country Park.  The mud-strip circumnavigates this before arriving at another great borders river - the Teviot.  Now there are plenty signposts for this walk but you can't rely on them alone - when the mud track reaches the river, follow the mud to the right, which leads you through the trees towards a left turn for a fine suspension bridge which takes you to the mud on the other side.  To be fair this next bit wasn't bad, grassy for at least half a mile as the route doubles back on itself along the river's southern bank before turning South to find the Kelso road, and my cue to find the drop-bag my dad had planted at a lay-by.

Sitting on the old railway platform here, munching on a banana, I contemplated how slow I was moving today, with only 17miles done and 14 to go. Sure this wasn't a race or time trial, nor was there any particular need to rush, it just felt like more effort to move forward than almost all other, much hillier routes I've done.  Couldn't blame the (tail) wind, so was it the amount of under-foot grease?  Or inside-belly grease!?  It hadn't been long since Christmas, but I can't put all the blame on Terry's chocolate orange.

"Please shut the gate".  Footbridge over Oxnam Water beyond

 The way continued South, roman style, leaving Dere Street after a mile uphill where a fingerpost sent me NE down a shelter-belt and out onto tarmac.  It was a brief stint up a hedge-lined road before being routed off into woodland then down to a bridge over Oxnam Water.

Cessford Castle and remaining bit of wall

Sitting having a breather on the grassy hill above the burn, I noted that those distinct Eildon Hills, which seemed to have been stalking me since Bowden, were finally dropping away into the distance.  Very soon I was about to get another indication of my progress towards the white Chieviots - little speckles of snow where the sun hadn't hit the steep tarmac hill to the South of Oxnam Water.  A I progressed East, there were more lingering sprinkles of white, first in the shadows of hedges along the road, then lots more up the sides of another wooded dell, and after that, a dusting along the side of a stone wall between fields as the way climbed.  When I crested this hill the Cheviots re-appeared and were suddenly very close.

Road after Morebattle

I stood here to admire the view for a moment, looking from Cessford moor with Cessford castle below.  Perhaps the fastest four miles of the journey followed - farmtrack then tarmac, down to and around the castle, then beyond to the quaint village of Morebattle where the pavements were dusted white and the roads dipped into pools of slush.

I looked longingly at the Templehall Hotel thinking of warmth and a pint, but knew I'd enjoy it all the more once safely arrived at Kirk Yetholm, hopefully before dusk.

Overlooking the valley of Kale Water

Even though the final 7 miles between Morebattle and Kirk Yetholm involved proper hills (you know what I mean), I found this bit much easier going then the muddy riverside paths earlier, and the 6 miles of roman swamp.  The route up "Grubbit Law" - what a great name - starts with a footbridge over Kale Water, and so the road is left behind and its time to meet some cows.  I showed them the respect they deserve by walking not running through their field, and those blocking my path politely moved aside.

Waymarker on Wideopen Hill

From here it was up and over Wideopen Hill, where a happy group of walkers asked me to take their picture, and pointed out the sign indicated this was both half way and the highest point of the St. Cuthbert's Way (a mere 368m, how easy to underestimate this journey!).  From here it was a fun descent down the broad grassy ridge, following the line of the Cheviots NE, down into the glen that shelters the Yetholms.  I was glad to have arrived before sunset, and was glad to find my dad still in the bar with the rugby on.  Plastered in mud though I was, the shower could wait for a bit.

To be continued..

St. Cuthbert's Way Stages: 1 [2] Next

Ryvoan Bothy Circuit

Distance: 27.3 miles (44km) Ascent/Descent: 420m/420m
Start/Finish: Choice of Aviemore, Boat of Garten, Nethy Bridge or Glenmore Lodge
Terrain: 85% easy gravel, 15% quiet road
Transport: train and citylink bus serve Aviemore.
Route: map

An Lochan Uaine - between Ryvoan Bothy and Glenmore Lodge, Cairngorms

Summary
This route is so popular I feel like one of the last outdoors enthusiasts in Scotland to have done it! Lesley had cycled it many times before, a girl at work had also reccommended it, and during breakfast at our accommodation in Boat of Garten, our host went and suggested it too! Not that we were particularly in the mood for a "mission" after a late Friday evening in the Boat Hotel! I can now see why its such a favourite - rarely on road and passing through forest, mountains and moorland, yet mostly flat and easy going (just one or two brief parts that require care if on a bike). And there's some gems en-route such as "The Green Loch". In spite of all the endorsements there is only a short section of the route which felt "busy" this weekend. The views deeper into the Cairngorm wilderness really caught my imagination for future exploration.  

River Spey, near Nethy Bridge, Cairngorms behind

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Low morning sun in Abernethy Forest

I've mentioned before that September/October is my favourite time in Scotland. Okay it was baltic, but we were lucky to wake up to blue skies, still air, frost on the ground. Boat of Garten was silent, the air tinted with woodsmoke. We extracted Lesley's bike from the boot of the car and quickly got moving East out of the village via the bridge over the alluring River Spey.

Lesley pedalled along the road whilst I jogged along the adjacent "Speyside Way". It was probably only once we'd escaped the road, empty though it was, and entered Abernethy Forest that we really started to enjoy this journey, the groggy too-many-beers-last-night feeling being replaced with how lucky we were to be here! The pine forest had the ubiquitous carpet of heather, blaeberry and an occasional ant-hill. Blue sky above, dew sparkling in the sunlight, birdsong accentuated by the stillness, and now we'd done a couple of miles the coldness was refreshing rather than bitter (like the Guinness at Aviemore later). We shunned the road-side route of the speyside way to take the loop through the trees, then picked the "way" back up as it parallelled a single-track road for a bit then headed East again towards the wee town of Nethy Bridge (shop).

Start of "rights of way" to Braemar/Glenmore

After a break at the picnic tables by the River Nethy, we followed the road up past nice river-side homes we wish we owned, eventually onto gravel and back into the forest.  It was starting to cloud over now as we pedalled/ran deeper into the woods, a very subtle gradient taking us up towards Forest Lodge and the RSPB nature area.

 There was a choice of routes and we accidentally took the higher one up to Rynettin Farm, which was worth the extra effort for the view across the moorland into the Cairngorms proper, the higher points of which now carrying a dusting of recent snow.  It was a bit of a surprise exiting the forest and passing by a field of cows - with boarded-up farm buildings above - having seemingly left civilisation a few miles ago. 

Descending from Rynettin

An Lochan Uain

From here we were entering the mountains, but never having to climb them - the track dropped down from the farm to join the easier route that we'd missed, then undulates along the moorland, flanking the Corbett "Meall a' Bhuachaille" (also a popular walk in its own right, with a manicured path up to its summit from Ryvoan Bothy - this area was the only "busy" part of our day!  There's a hill race up Meall a' Bhuachaille in October, although this shuns the manicured route and goes straight up the side!).

View from a rock, into the wild (Cairngorms)

The rain was coming down as we approached Ryvoan bothy, so we took shelter there and were soon joined by many others.  Lesley produced the hip-flask, obviously trying to slow me down!  She didn't need to worry as it was mostly downhill from here - although a bit of care is needed when cycling the immediate descent S from the bothy.  At the bottom of this hill is the beautiful An Lochan Uaine (Green Loch), so time for another stop.
The path was manicured gravel from here to Aviemore, and provided a nice alternative to the surprisingly busy Glenmore Lodge road.  We broke the journey at Aviemore (Guinness and food) and eventually got moving again for the final 5 miles along the speyside way (cyclepath) back to Boat of Garten.  The food was heavy in the belly but we weren't in a rush - this is another beautiful stretch of moorland with views over the cairngorms, just a shame the rain returned - very cold rain, arriving in squalls.  That's why I don't have a photo of this bit, but here's a blog with a stunning view of it:

http://westcoasthikers.wordpress.com/great-britain-2012/speyside-way/aviemore-to-boat-of-garten/

Glen Tilt and Beinn a' Ghlo

Distance: 23.5 miles (38.5km) 
Ascent/Descent: 1670m/1670m 
Start/Finish: Blair Atholl  
Terrain: 45% gravel, 40% Hill tracks, 15% road.  
Remote moorland but generally dry/firm underfoot
Transport: train station and citylink bus services Blair Atholl
Route: Route Map

Lower Glen Tilt

Summary
Glen Tilt is bicycle-heaven.  It forms a great through-route from Blair Atholl to Deeside which I used many years ago as a student when cycling from Fife to Aberdeen!  It also makes for easy walking/running acess into (or out of) stunning remote country.  Next to Glen Tilt but generally hidden from view are the broad rounded heather-clad lumps of Beinn a' Ghlo, which boasts three Munros.  This route takes in the summits of the Beinn first, then gives the tired legs an easy trot back down Glen Tilt.  Once onto the first summit of Carn Liath, the gradients are generally gentle and the cols are shallow which makes it all very runnable. There are great views over high moorland to the Cairngorms, but my favourite view is from the descent down into Glen Tilt.

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With less than 2 weeks until the Grand Raid des Pyrenees, and only 2 weeks since enjoying a fantastic run at the Lakeland 100 race, I chose this run as a way of keeping the fitness ticking over, hoping not to do any damage to muscles that were still in recovery mode.  (My original plan for this loop was to return via Carn a' Chlamain - a Munro on the NW side of the Glen.  This adds 4 miles and 650m ascent.)

Memorial Stone - Carn Liath rising beyond

There's parking in Blair Atholl opposite the entrance to the Caravan Park, with shops nearby.  That's where I started from, going through the Caravan Park and along forest track to the Glen Tilt Car Park (an option to shorten the run a bit!).

Beyond the old bridge over the River Tilt, a single-track road leads E up to Loch Moraig, making relatively easy work of the first 200m of today's ascent.  (There's a small car park up here - full by the time I was jogging past after midday).

A gravel track branches off to the NE, the gradient remaining gentle, then after a mile of this it was time to start climbing proper, forking N over a small crest, past a couple of huts, and once through one of the only areas of bog I'd encounter today.

Braigh Coire Chruinn-bhalgain (1070m),
with Carn nan Gabhar to R (1129m)

It was an enjoyable climb up Carn Liath, a climb that gets steeper with height, where the trail became loose gravel.  Zig-zags helped me keep a gentle upwards shuffle going.  I should really be practising 'power-walking' up hills but the shuffling feels easier on fresh legs.  I think.  Fast low cloud clipped the summit above, and sure enough once out of the shelter and onto the final gentler rise to the summit cairn it was time to put the jacket on and cut out that windchill!  From here, the running is much easier and there is a rough path to follow.  Beinn a' Ghlo is higher than much of the surrounding countryside so on the right day its a great viewing platform.  The ridge snakes downwards a bit from here, first heading NW, then NE over a lump, then N down to a bealach where there's an opportunity to fill water bottles without losing much height here if you contour N for 300m. 

Some more "snaking" E then N along increasingly rocky and broadening ridge before the next summit is reached.  Already there's only one significant climb left for the day, which suited my still-recovering legs just fine!  The cloud lifted again and I could see far into the remote country to the NE - basking in sunshine - with the Cairngorms clearly visible beyond.

Looking from Airgoid Beinn SW back over Carn Liath

I took in the top of Airgiod Beinn (view above) before climbing the final Munro of the day, Carn nan Gabhar. 

Looking back S towards Carn nan Gabhar

Now followed 2.5 miles of easy downhill running along the N continuation of Beinn a' Ghlo, then NW over Meall a' Mhuirich (898m) following traces of path.

The sun was really shining, the jacket was off again, a feeling of being on-top-of-the-world, happy days!

Descending through the heather towards the beautiful Glen Tilt

Dail Feannach above Glen Tilt

Dropping down into Glen Tilt requires a bit of care - its very steep, the heather is tall, but there is what I assume to be an old and little-used stalkers' path which is well worth finding as it zig-zags safely downwards.  (Don't be tempted to drop down towards Dail Feannach like I did - just stay on the direct line for Glen Tilt, aiming for the footbridge as soon as you see it, and you're very likely to find the path I refer to).

Looking down Glen Tilt, 9 downhill miles to go!

A great place to fill the bottles

After enjoying the sunshine for a moment, sitting by the cascade and re-filling the bottles, it was time to pick up the pace down the easy track. The sunshine was such a bonus - it hadn't been forecast! And it was very warm too.  There were a few mountain-bikes chained to fences along the glen, which makes a lot of sense for exploring the hills around here.

With only 4 miles to go the glen begins to twist and drop a little steeper.  There is a final short rise to overcome before arriving at the Old Bridge of Tilt, from where the route rejoins the first outward mile.  A great accessible day out.

Etive Peaks and Glen Kinglass

Distance: 27 miles (43km)  Ascent/Descent: 3050m/3050m 
Start/Finish: Victoria Bridge (Loch Tulla) 
Terrain: 55% hill trails, 15% pathless, 20% gravel track, 10% easy trail  
Transport: citylink bus stops at nearby Bridge of Orchy 
(Ft. William/Skye - Edinburgh/Glasgow services)
Route: Route Map
 

Looking North over Glen Etive towards the summits of Glen Coe

Summary
Today's run was less "Exploring Scottish Trails" and more "Obsessive-compulsive Munro Bagging" in the sun. Starting from Victoria Bridge (by Loch Tulla on the West Highland Way), it takes in the group of summits stretching between Rannoch Moor and Glen Etive, starting with Stob a Choire Odhar, eventually reaching Ben Starav beside the stunning Loch Etive, before returning via Beinn an Aigenan along Glen Kinglass to the start. This last bit is just part of a nice trail that runs West from Victoria Bridge (on the West Highland Way) to Loch Etive, where it meets another trail that runs North/South from Tayinult to Glen Etive. Forgetting summits, both these options offer nice scenery away from roads and towns - and would also make good mountain-bike trips (as evidenced by tyre tracks in the bog!).  

Blog
We parked at the gravel car park by Victoria Bridge – this is a popular camping area for those doing the West Highland Way or bagging Munros. When Lesley and I stepped out of the car the wave of heat that greeted us was very un-Scottish. The boggy ground by the road was dry and dusty. Lizards crossed the gravel path in front of me as I made my way Westwards along the stoney track into Glen Kinglass. Staying hydrated was going to be the main challenge for everyone today.

Good track up onto the ridge of Stob a Coire Odhair

 I followed the Munro-baggers route that forked N off the main track and gently up into the jaws of Coire Toaig on a path that made for very enjoyable running. My first summit, Stob a Choire Odhair, was hidden from view by the steepness of its heathery lower slopes. Immediately after crossing a river and stopping for a chat with a couple, enjoying a rest by the soothing sound of fast-flowing water, I forked right to take the Munro-baggers’ route, climbing steeply up eroded heathery hummocks by the river's NW bank. I was reduced to a walk until the gradient lessened and joined an old zig-zagging stalkers' path up towards the the stoney summit, a fine viewpoint over Rannoch Moor, in fact a fine viewpoint all around with the Black Mount to the N and to the W the mighty Stob Ghabhar.   That's where I was heading next.

After another brief chat I was heading down the not-too-steep W ridge of "Odhair", picking up a bit of a path down to the 668m pass, then continuing along the ridge ahead that curves more S and becomes rocky. Even though the path zig-zags a bit, I was still reduced to a walk on this stretch (something I need to practise anyway so I can survive the longer mountain events!).

Stob Ghabar

The lochan in Stob Ghabhar's NE corrie came into view below - an impressive setting. Having attained the crest of the mountain's SE ridge, it was an invigorating run up to the summit cairn where I was labelled "a nutter", and instructed to "make sure to drink plenty water".  I guess she figured anyone stupid enough to run up Munros is likely to need all the advice they get.

From here onwards I was covering unfamiliar ground.  That's the bit of a run I always enjoy most!  Descending slightly N of W along a broad, grassy ridge, I felt (and knew) I was leaving the crowds behind and entering lesser travelled territory for a few miles.  The views from this elevated platform were particularly good, especially North over the Buachaille Etive Mor and Ben Nevis above and beyond.

Ben Nevis standing high above the Buachaille

I had to drop down a bit to get fresh water for the bottles before traversing increasingly awkwardly back onto the ridge (much easier to stick to the crest!). Meall nan Eun looked diminutive from up here, and yet it was a long loop to the N before I could get onto its slopes from a bealach down at 633m! Descending to this needs a bit of care with a couple of crags needing "turned", so a bit of zig-zagging required before I got safelt down, picking my route onwards onto Munro 3 of the day. There's a fairly obvious grassy terrace to aim for (in good visibility) a couple hundred metres to the W of the old boundary wall, so I aimed for a gap in the outcrops where a burn flows down (186 458), finding evidence that this is where other walkers (and/or deer) head for.

Stob Coir a' Albannaich above the bealach before Meall nan Eun

Up onto the terrace, now just walking, its possible to start heading more SE through the gentler outcrops and attain the runnable plateau in search of the summit cairn, which even on this clear day was a bit shy! Its a 4.5mile mountain run from Stob Ghabhar to this summit, and being less-travelled I'd enjoyed having it all to myself. This was probably as remote as the route would get. From the small cairn I was almost doubling back on myself (NW) over the tundra to eventually continue W via Meall Tarsuinn - finding myself a good path upon its crest and down to the bealach beyond, with "Peak of the corrie of Scotsmen" ahead of me, Munro No. 4, and once again I was seeing others out enjoying this ridiculously fine day. Although hot down in the glens, the warmth was pleasantly temperate up here on the ridges. Everyone was wearing their brimmed hats.

From the bealach, Stob Coir an Albannaich’s rounded summit is attained via its ESE ridge (very much following the boundary on the map). The route onto this ridge is basically a gently-angled series of slabs with traces of path to the E of an obvious gully. Once onto the ridge it was again very runnable to the summit, where I became aware how close I now was to Glen Etive, its partly-forested base nestled amongst the array of fairly sharp peaks south of Glen Coe.

Glas Beinn Mor

Onwards to Glas Beinn Mhor was great fun - starting with a gently sloping area of high tussock grass over which I headed SW, then more SE as soon as it steepened to keep on the crest. Again basically following the line of the boundary marked on the map. Much easier on a clear day like today, I was eventually picking up traces of path, zig-zagging more steeply down to the 738m bealach beneath Glas Beinn Mor where a very well-todden trail starts the final climb to the summit. A bit of walking and then running to the top, and I was now looking directly across to the mightly-looking Ben Starav! The ridge up Ben Starav has plenty character, climaxing with a bouldery arete (bypass path if required) running between the pyramidal Stob Coire Dheirg and Starav’s SE top, from which one of the nicest mountain views in Scotland is to be had, with Loch Etive down below and the Atlantic Ocean beyond, Mull and Ben More looking not too far away at all.

Stob Coire Dearg, with the SE top of Ben Starav behind

 It was much busier over these latter mountains – lots of people making the most of the weather. But it would soon get quiet again once I’d retraced my steps back down to the Bealach and taken a path SE from there, dropping from the main ridge and aiming for the final Munro of the day – Beinn nan Aighenan.

Loch Etive from Ben Starav (Ben Cruachan visible top left)

It turns out there’s a path nearly all the way from the bealach to the top, although it does peter out in a couple of places. It’s a fairly isolated Munro, but there are still fine views over Loch Etive with the Cruachan range not too distant ahead.
 

Looking N to Meall nan Eun over Loch Dochard

A last glance behind up the Glen, near Victoria Bridge

Dehydration was setting in – there’d been very little opportunity to fill the bottles without descending too much off the ridge. As a result my legs were sluggish and my day quickly became more “endurance” and less “enjoyment”. Well I suppose I am in training after all. The worst problem was how long it was going to take me to get down off the Beinn’s slabby, twisting E ridge to a burn to refill the bottles! I don’t recommend my route choice here as the terminus of this ridge is rather steep over a succession of slabs. Taking this E ridge is fine so long as you don’t try and “cut the corner” for the bridge down in Glen Kinglass like I did – and instead stick to the crest as it swings S for a few hundred metres, before beginning to descend.

With hindsight I think I’d have been better just heading SE off the summit into Coire a’ Bhinnein where there’s water, and also a path marked on the 1:25000 map.

When I eventually did get the opportunity to rehydrate, life slowly came back to the legs and I could enjoy running down the glen with the evening sun, still very warm, hitting the hills I’d visited the tops of earlier. I particularly liked the view of Meall nan Eun across the loch, now looking up at it rather than down from it.

The path joins a dirt track then leaves it again (crossing a dodgy suspension bridge to the N bank of the river), making its peaty way back towards my outward route this morning, then eventually the car at Victoria Bridge.