Only six regulars gathered in Davie’s place this morning but the numbers were supplemented by the junior section and a special guest appearance by Gordon Smith. The weather was uninspiring; a cloudy sky and a keen east wind put doubt in the mind about a climb today. But he who knows these things said that it was clearing from the south and we should go ahead with the hill as planned. As it turned out, those who missed the day missed a super walk.
We drove through to deepest Lanarkshire with the intent of climbing Culter Fell for the third time as a group. And as we drove further east, the sky cleared and the sun lit the hills we were heading for. He who knows these things appeared to be right for a change. Patches of snow could be seen on Culter Fell and we anticipated another good day on this hill – we have never been disappointed yet.
We felt the cold in the valley of the Culter, a cold the was mainly due to the long period of inactivity in the warm cars but a cold that was also due to the easterly breeze we could feel. Jackets were donned immediately. Young Davie even changed out of the shorts he sported earlier though old Davie persisted with bare legs for the day. After the initial pee stop, we set off up the reservoir road to the foot of our hill, walking briskly to stir the blood against the cold.
Culter Fell is one of those hills that starts gently but quickly turns steep for most of its height then, near the top, eases off to a gently rising slope to the summit. And it climbs immediately from the roadside. At least a track of sorts eased the gentle climb and a stalker’s path helped on the steeper parts. The sun was warm and the effort of the climb strenuous and bodies soon warmed up. On the steeper part we climbed quickly and ‘view’ stops were called frequently. Eventually, with the clock showing eleven, a longer halt was called and, by a shooter’s butt dug into the hillside and lined with boulders, we sat down for coffee.
The view from the coffee stop was good. Spring had reached the valley bottom turning the floor to green but it hadn’t yet reached the higher slopes which held on to their winter coats of pale yellow and brown grasses and the deep purple-brown of heather stalks. We could look down the entire valley to where the Culter added to the main Clyde Valley. The clag still hung in the north restricting views in that direction to the main settlements of that valley – Lanark, Hamilton and Motherwell. To the west, though, the air was clearer and we could look over a grander, more pastoral scene; look over the valley to the hills we wandered the last time we were here; look over to the neighbouring hills of Ward Law, Woodycleuch Dod and Hudderston; look over Knowe Dod and Turkey Law to the heathery mass of Tinto rising a few miles to the west. Superb.
But to the east, the steep heather clad slope of Culter Fell still rose ominously above us and it was to this slope that we returned after coffee.
Once again view stops were frequent. And as we rose, the country opened itself out to us. Now we could see Cairn Table above Muirkirk, and Black Craig in Glen Afton, then Cairnsmore of Carsphairn in Galloway, then Queensberry and the Lowther Hills, all in the west and south. A groups of hills appeared through the clag in the north, a group that might have been the Lomond Hills in Fife - if our knowledgeable one was to be believed. And all of these appeared as we climbed steeply. But then the slope eased and we wandered up the gentle rise to the summit; not the first top we could see on the skyline - this turned out to be a false hope for the newcomers – but the one a quarter of a mile behind this. And we stopped on the summit, in the cold east wind, to recover the breath and take in the view.
What a remarkable view is had from Culter Fell, all three hundred and sixty degrees of it. The dull conditions still obscured the northern hills restricting visibility in this direction to around twenty miles. Only the plains of Lanarkshire and the Clyde Valley with its towns were visible in this direction. But coming round to the west, Tinto was the main focus but all the hills we could see on the climb filled the skyline running round to Queensberry in the south. Now the east was open to us as well with Broad Law and Hart Fell, indeed all the Moffat Hills, still holding patches of snow. Below us the infant Tweed made its way eastwards in its valley. The hills expert was forced to change his mind for the ‘Lomond Hills’ in the northeast turned out to be the Pentlands. And all lit by the early spring sun.
We might have stayed on the summit to eat but the easterly breeze was chilling and a more sheltered spot was sought for lunch. Davie, the veteran of this area, would have us for Capelgill Hill barely a mile away and who were we to argue? So we turned our footsteps northward, dropped down off the summit and dropped out of the most of the breeze. Now we could have lunch.
The climb onto Capelgill is gentle and the grass was short. We might have taken our time getting to this top but Rex and Davie were to the front again and set a fair old pace. They had set a schedule at lunch and were determined to keep it. A warm and sweaty bunch trailed on behind them. Result on the top? Schedulers – two minutes ahead, trailers – dead on time. But whatever position we gained that top, time had to be allowed to examine the remarkable easterly view again. And time was taken.
But the wind was still cool and by the time the trailers had recovered their breath the chill was felt again. The time came to move on. We retraced our steps from Capelgill along the quad bike tracks we found on the ascent. It’s a good job Davie knows the area for otherwise we would have walked on by his diversion. But when we reached a certain featureless point he had us off the tracks, over the fence, across some rough stuff and onto another quad track leading in the opposite direction. This, he said would take us back into the Culter Valley.
What a tremendous way to come off the hill. The quad tracks led us gently downwards and out of the easterly wind. Then, as the tracks ran uphill again, we came on a gently descending well graded path continuing the downward progress. Somewhere down this path and for no other reason than we could, we stopped for an afternoon break. Perhaps this was a ploy by the front trio to gather strength for what would come next. Even if it was, we all enjoyed the break in the warming April sun.
What was to come next was more infantile nonsense from those who should know better. Our afternoon tea stop was only a few hundred feet above the road on the valley bottom. The descent was easy and most took their time. The leading trio of Jimmy, Rex and Robert enjoyed a wee jog down the grassy slope so arrived on the road in advance of the others who weren’t too far behind. They strolled down the road to let the rest catch up. This was where Ronnie saw his chance of glory, the first to finish the walk. But the leaders heard his footsteps clump up behind and quickened the pace again. And again, and again until only Rex and Jimmy were left to race out the last hundred metres. None would concede to the other so they ended up sprinting for the cars. (Well as fast as daft auld men in hiking boots carrying loaded rucksacks can sprint!) In the end they had to call an amicable draw though Jimmy claims he would have won if his trousers had stayed up. Silly auld buggers.
The sensible meantime walked sedately back to the cars fully expecting two heart attack victims to be waiting there.
As was said earlier those who missed the day, missed another fabulous walk on Culter Fell. We have never been disappointed here.
We retired to the Crown in Biggar for FRT today but this place is beginning to lose its appeal – Robyn no longer works there.
We drove through to deepest Lanarkshire with the intent of climbing Culter Fell for the third time as a group. And as we drove further east, the sky cleared and the sun lit the hills we were heading for. He who knows these things appeared to be right for a change. Patches of snow could be seen on Culter Fell and we anticipated another good day on this hill – we have never been disappointed yet.
We felt the cold in the valley of the Culter, a cold the was mainly due to the long period of inactivity in the warm cars but a cold that was also due to the easterly breeze we could feel. Jackets were donned immediately. Young Davie even changed out of the shorts he sported earlier though old Davie persisted with bare legs for the day. After the initial pee stop, we set off up the reservoir road to the foot of our hill, walking briskly to stir the blood against the cold.
Culter Fell is one of those hills that starts gently but quickly turns steep for most of its height then, near the top, eases off to a gently rising slope to the summit. And it climbs immediately from the roadside. At least a track of sorts eased the gentle climb and a stalker’s path helped on the steeper parts. The sun was warm and the effort of the climb strenuous and bodies soon warmed up. On the steeper part we climbed quickly and ‘view’ stops were called frequently. Eventually, with the clock showing eleven, a longer halt was called and, by a shooter’s butt dug into the hillside and lined with boulders, we sat down for coffee.
The view from the coffee stop was good. Spring had reached the valley bottom turning the floor to green but it hadn’t yet reached the higher slopes which held on to their winter coats of pale yellow and brown grasses and the deep purple-brown of heather stalks. We could look down the entire valley to where the Culter added to the main Clyde Valley. The clag still hung in the north restricting views in that direction to the main settlements of that valley – Lanark, Hamilton and Motherwell. To the west, though, the air was clearer and we could look over a grander, more pastoral scene; look over the valley to the hills we wandered the last time we were here; look over to the neighbouring hills of Ward Law, Woodycleuch Dod and Hudderston; look over Knowe Dod and Turkey Law to the heathery mass of Tinto rising a few miles to the west. Superb.
But to the east, the steep heather clad slope of Culter Fell still rose ominously above us and it was to this slope that we returned after coffee.
Once again view stops were frequent. And as we rose, the country opened itself out to us. Now we could see Cairn Table above Muirkirk, and Black Craig in Glen Afton, then Cairnsmore of Carsphairn in Galloway, then Queensberry and the Lowther Hills, all in the west and south. A groups of hills appeared through the clag in the north, a group that might have been the Lomond Hills in Fife - if our knowledgeable one was to be believed. And all of these appeared as we climbed steeply. But then the slope eased and we wandered up the gentle rise to the summit; not the first top we could see on the skyline - this turned out to be a false hope for the newcomers – but the one a quarter of a mile behind this. And we stopped on the summit, in the cold east wind, to recover the breath and take in the view.
What a remarkable view is had from Culter Fell, all three hundred and sixty degrees of it. The dull conditions still obscured the northern hills restricting visibility in this direction to around twenty miles. Only the plains of Lanarkshire and the Clyde Valley with its towns were visible in this direction. But coming round to the west, Tinto was the main focus but all the hills we could see on the climb filled the skyline running round to Queensberry in the south. Now the east was open to us as well with Broad Law and Hart Fell, indeed all the Moffat Hills, still holding patches of snow. Below us the infant Tweed made its way eastwards in its valley. The hills expert was forced to change his mind for the ‘Lomond Hills’ in the northeast turned out to be the Pentlands. And all lit by the early spring sun.
We might have stayed on the summit to eat but the easterly breeze was chilling and a more sheltered spot was sought for lunch. Davie, the veteran of this area, would have us for Capelgill Hill barely a mile away and who were we to argue? So we turned our footsteps northward, dropped down off the summit and dropped out of the most of the breeze. Now we could have lunch.
The climb onto Capelgill is gentle and the grass was short. We might have taken our time getting to this top but Rex and Davie were to the front again and set a fair old pace. They had set a schedule at lunch and were determined to keep it. A warm and sweaty bunch trailed on behind them. Result on the top? Schedulers – two minutes ahead, trailers – dead on time. But whatever position we gained that top, time had to be allowed to examine the remarkable easterly view again. And time was taken.
But the wind was still cool and by the time the trailers had recovered their breath the chill was felt again. The time came to move on. We retraced our steps from Capelgill along the quad bike tracks we found on the ascent. It’s a good job Davie knows the area for otherwise we would have walked on by his diversion. But when we reached a certain featureless point he had us off the tracks, over the fence, across some rough stuff and onto another quad track leading in the opposite direction. This, he said would take us back into the Culter Valley.
What a tremendous way to come off the hill. The quad tracks led us gently downwards and out of the easterly wind. Then, as the tracks ran uphill again, we came on a gently descending well graded path continuing the downward progress. Somewhere down this path and for no other reason than we could, we stopped for an afternoon break. Perhaps this was a ploy by the front trio to gather strength for what would come next. Even if it was, we all enjoyed the break in the warming April sun.
What was to come next was more infantile nonsense from those who should know better. Our afternoon tea stop was only a few hundred feet above the road on the valley bottom. The descent was easy and most took their time. The leading trio of Jimmy, Rex and Robert enjoyed a wee jog down the grassy slope so arrived on the road in advance of the others who weren’t too far behind. They strolled down the road to let the rest catch up. This was where Ronnie saw his chance of glory, the first to finish the walk. But the leaders heard his footsteps clump up behind and quickened the pace again. And again, and again until only Rex and Jimmy were left to race out the last hundred metres. None would concede to the other so they ended up sprinting for the cars. (Well as fast as daft auld men in hiking boots carrying loaded rucksacks can sprint!) In the end they had to call an amicable draw though Jimmy claims he would have won if his trousers had stayed up. Silly auld buggers.
The sensible meantime walked sedately back to the cars fully expecting two heart attack victims to be waiting there.
As was said earlier those who missed the day, missed another fabulous walk on Culter Fell. We have never been disappointed here.
We retired to the Crown in Biggar for FRT today but this place is beginning to lose its appeal – Robyn no longer works there.
1 comment:
"Robyn no longer works there."
Suddenly I don't feel too bad at missing the walk.
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