February 25 - Dollar Glen and Ochils

An alternative account. I hadn't noticed that I'd been beaten to it by Allan! I hope our stories tally.



Gloom, Care and Sorrow - Yes it's another Early Ooters Ooting.











Distance 14.7 km

Seven early Ooters (Alan, Allan, Ian, Johnny, Paul, Rex and Robert) gathered at Robert's to sample some delicious home-baked gingerbread and coffee. Despite the forecast, which predicted some rain and strong winds, it was decided to go ahead with the planned return to the Ochils for which Paul had produced a route and had loaded up his GPS.

Two cars sufficed and everyone met up again, alongside the Dollar Burn, in the middle of the Clackmannanshire village at around 10.30.

It was an attractive start to the walk, with roads fronted by imposing villas running up both sides of the burn and with glimpses of the Playfair-designed Dollar Academy (day fees £9,000 pa, full board £21,000 pa) with its Doric facade.

Soon we joined the path ascending the Dollar Glen and the climbing started. At a junction in the path, Robert was attracted by a path which rose steeply out of the glen, away from the burn, and initially going in the opposite direction we wanted .... and for whatever reason, we followed him. The path led us to a road which climbed up to Castle Campbell, which we reached in some ten minutes.

Overlooked by Gloom Hill, Castle Campbell was known as the Castle of Gloom until James IV approved the name change. It was the Lowland stronghold of Clan Campbell, upon whose members the successive titles of Earl, Marquis and Duke of Argyll were bestowed. Mary Queen of Scots and John Knox stayed at the castle, although not as a couple, and in 1654 it was sacked by Scots in retaliation for Argyll's support of Cromwell.

Paths went off in various directions, and having studied a map of the area on display close to the castle we chose to descend a steep gully through which ran the Burn of Sorrow. Climbing out of the gully we could see the terrain opening up, with Bank Hill, our first target in full view. But before that - elevenses.

Refreshed, we set off again with Paul choosing to follow one side of the fence whilst the rest kept to the other side. Was it something he said; or perhaps they didn't trust his map-reading.

We skirted round Bank Hill (346 m), and unusually for our sorties into the hills we saw quite a number of walkers out and about.

The great mass of King's Seat Hill now came into view, and when the path took a sharp right turn the climb began. The Ochils rise steeply from the Carse of Forth and King's Seat was certainly steep. The group was soon stretched out along its lower slopes with Rex, naturally, in the lead (it had already been pointed out to him that last week, with both he and Davie absent, the pace had been leisurely and the group had remained largely intact throughout the walk!). We stopped to chat to a walker who was descending - he told us that he had been on Ben Buck at 8 am! - and he reported heavy sleet showers on the tops. Certainly the wind was getting up and there was rain in the air.

The steepness of the climb gave rise to several false summits - very demoralising - but eventually the bulk of the group reached the true summit (648 m) to find a well-constructed shelter which deflected the worst of the wind. And it was lunchtime. Johnny and Allan joined us later!

As we prepared to leave, a newly-arrived couple got ready to move in - the woman and the person of indeterminate sex had been close to us at the foot of the hill but clearly our pace had been too much for them.

Beyond the summit of King's Seat the path became less clear but we headed off along the plateau in the general direction of Maddy Moss. As we began to descend we were beset by a very unpleasant hail squall, with the lumps of ice pinging off our few exposed parts. We had passed by Maddy Moss, under Andrew Gannell Hill, on the descent to Alva on our last visit to the area so it all looked familiar.

Any paths that existed looked to be not much more than sheep tracks but Paul and Rex strode out, GPS in hand in search of the boundary fence (Perthshire/Clackmannanshire?). It was duly located and the clear path running alongside the fence was followed. Ian remarked on the ancient metal stile crossing the fence at one point, whilst everyone remarked upon the complexity of the construction of the modern stiles and fences.

As we turned the corner to climb Tarmangie Hill we were again assailed by wind and hail, but as before, it was short lived. The sky which had looked ominously black began to brighten a little. Pointing to a hill, Robert stated that he thought we would have been going 'that way'. It had to be pointed out to him that he was looking at King's Seat which we had left an hour earlier!

We made the very slight detour away from the fence to bag the summit of Tarmangie (645 m) and we had clear views of the Lomond Hills and Loch Leven. We left the fence to head towards our final top of the day - Whitewisp Hill (643 m) - then began our descent. We headed for the east side of Saddle Hill, but the reasonable path we had been following soon petered out. We descended as best we could down the steep slopes, pausing for a break at a large sheepfold (sorry Jimmy and Davie - a large fank).

We had considered heading across what looked like pretty boggy ground towards Castle Campbell, but the more observant amongst us had spotted a cart track leading from the fank to a crossing of the Burn of Care and then joining up with the track shown on our maps - a much easier route to the Castle of Gloom. So that's the way we went.

We were soon back at Castle Campbell and chose to take the route down the Dollar Glen which we had missed on the way up. To some the path under the castle was reminiscent of the descent from Abbaye St Martin du Canigou. Others, lacking imagination, were merely abusive.

The descent of the glen was spectacular - especially the view of the burn flowing through enormous cleft rocks. This was accessible only be using a wooden walkway funded by a bequest from a lady whose name your scribe has forgotten. Thank you madam.

And soon we were back in the village. There were lots of well-scrubbed blazer-wearing young people around. Rex excepted, it was just so reminiscent of our teaching days. ... not.

Speaking of Rex ..... an account of the day would not be complete without a reference to his use of skills he undoubtedly learned in the Australian Diplomatic Corps. The way he defused the situation with that unreasonable 98-year-old local drew gasps of awe from all of us. Boutros Boutros-Ghali, eat your heart out!

We decided to make a quick getaway from Dollar. Not because we feared the 98-year-old was rounding up a geriatric posse but to avoid the worst of the rush hour around Glasgow and East Kilbride. It was decided to adjourn to the King's Arms in Fenwick. This we did, and what a pleasant howff it is. It was all of 6.30 when we left the pub - the end of a long, testing, but enjoyable day.

25th February Dollar - Castle Gloom - Ochils

25 February Return to the Ochils

Seven Ooters assembled at Robert's for a pre-journey coffee and piece of home-made gingerbread. Davie was still poorly (come back soon Davie, we are all missing Holly), Jimmy was waiting for the man from Dell Monte (he say no to any other day of the week), Ronnie had had a family bereavement and Peter was ... somewhere else. Having set off at 9.05am we arrived and parked (more about this later) at Dollar by 10.20am.
(Since the writer is not yet up to the high standards of some of the other Ooters in terms of what hills we were on I shall leave them to fill in the technical details but as currency was the order of the day and centing that nobody else was up for it, it was in for a penny, in for a pound as far as the blog is concerned. To be franc the experience has left a mark on me and I yen to take a back seat next week.)

It was up the Dollar Glen to begin with, passing by Castle Campbell (even by this time the writer was taking his usual tail gunner position), and on up a well marked path before stopping for coffee prior to the real ascent of the day. The climb to the top of the hill was steep with the weather changing quickly from wet to dry - thankfully mainly dry. However Johnny has an insurance claim pending regarding his torn waterproofs, caught on a wire fence. As the summit approached the wind got stronger and colder making possible only brief stops to admire the views - Kincardine Bridges, Longannet and Kincardine Power Stations, Grangemouth and beyond.
Lunch was taken huddled together in a stone shelter at the top and, given the ferocity of the weather, it was not lomg before we started off on the downward part of the walk (downward, I should know better by this time). At least the first part was down and made at a quick rate of knots as the hail was biting into our faces. The idea was to climb up on to a ridge that would eventually bring us round to Dollar again. Paul led the way using his GPS to great effect and liaising with Alan and Rex who were also equipped with the latest technology. To be honest I'm not sure how many other tops we navigated (Johnny says it was the Four Tops but lost all credibility by recounting how he used to enjoy their lead singer, Marvin Gaye). The wind was still strong enough to blow us occasionally off balance and with Dollar coming into sight a decision? was made to veer off the route and go straight down the hillside. This being accomplished, and in the lea of the wind, the walk back in was relatively straightforward via the steep-sided Glen. It was a weary group who arrived back at the cars at 4.15pm.
Another decision was taken to go back to the King's at Fenwick for refreshments with the result that the last of the Ooters got home to their loved ones at 7.30pm - they saw their wives later. A long day.

Diplomatic Incident at Dollar (A Fistful of Dollar?)
W.C Porter, as is his want, arrived back at the car first and was met by an eighty(maybe eighty-six) year old male resident who complained that where the car was parked impeded the entry into his driveway. Rex in his own inimitable way stated that we were parked their legally and couldn't see the problem. One word led to another with the resident, despite his age, threatening to scatter Rex across the burn. Rex invited him to go away and this he did but not before telling Rex that if he parked there again he would have a nasty letter attached to his windscreen. This
appealed to Rex as, in fact, it was Ian's car. Ian had kept 'shtum' throughout the altercation. The old geezer then appeared at Paul's car where Johnny was changing and complained about 'our rude little friend up there'. Johnny assured him that we did not mean to cause an issue and apologised for any inconvenience. This apparently was all that he was looking for - a word of apology - and hinted that a day on the hills may have affected Rex's mental stability. We assured him that Rex was an Australian (he didn't understand Antipodean) and that the day on the hills had had no impact, he was always like that.
This incident provided much needed hilarity after the tortuous day and was recounted with relish at the King's.
Following on with the Spaghetti Western theme the incident could be renamed 'The Good, The Bad and The Ugly'. Mix and match yourselves who is who between Rex, Johnny and the old guy.

Ochils walk - 3D

15 October Ochil Hills 1 - Ben Cleuch

The hill continues to rise gradually for about two miles further north, untill it reaches the top of Ben-Cloch, which is the highest of the Alva hills, and is the summit of all the Ochills; and according to the observations taken by Mr Udney, land surveyor, is about 2420 feet above the level of the Devon. The view from the top of Ben-Cloch is the most extensive and beautiful any where to be found, and is visited by all travellers of curiosity who delight in fine prospects.

Rev. Mr John Duncan
Statistical Account of Scotland

1797

Paul's outing to the Ochil Hills was on for today. It should have been on last week but for some reason we decided to go to Arran instead. The morning was grey but our weatherman said that a thin band of rain would quickly clear and sunnier weather would follow. This would be around one o'clock, said he, and we believed him for he is good at this kind of thing.
Therefore, to follow in illustrious footsteps - Albert Einstein has walked these hills, and Walter Scott, and the Wordsworths, Coleridge and others - we travelled north to the car park at Alva Glen. Not that we were for Alva Glen, though, but the car park here gave us a good starting point. A map board showed us how to get out of the car park. It was examined. After a few minutes, Jimmy moved off followed by Davie and Rex only to be called back for the ‘leader’ was unsure of the way. Eventually we went Jimmy’s way.
Down into a wee glen we went, over a rustic bridge beside a waterfall, took the first path on the right, and came into open ground. The path slanted up the hillside but it was between stands of whin and was narrow. We were reduced to Indian file. That didn’t stop us halting to admire the view and point out landmarks, the message being relayed down the line. There’s the Kincardine Bridge, and that’s Grangemouth - the Kincardine bridge and Grangemouth - the Kincardine bridge and ......... Even before the information reached the end, the question was returning, ‘Is that Grangemouth and the Kincardine Bridge?’ Is it not amazing how many comments are made and repeated by those who haven’t heard? We used to think it was Davie’s hearing but now we are all at it. However, Rex did manage to point out Grangemouth several more times, as we slanted upward across the hill.
We found a road, a track really, that climbed the hill in our direction and Paul directed us up it. We also found a man, a local chap, and stopped for a blether. He had already been on the top and told us it was cold up there. It wasn’t particularly cold where we stood but then the first spots of rain hit us and the dampness chilled. We donned the waterproofs. Before we parted with our newfound friend, he told us the best pub to go to on our return. There are some decent left folk in the world.
The track continued to climb and the rain went. It was heating up under waterproofs so, at a style in a fence, we stopped to disrobe. The view over the upper Forth estuary, as far down as the Pentlands, was good albeit dull and greyish under the lowering sky. But, was the sky beginning to lift? The mist certainly lifted in front of us as we climbed, but only sufficiently to show the hills in front still hiding in the clag.
Coffee was called and a break was had where the track levelled out. We could see quad tracks that would take us to Ben Ever, our next objective but, like everything above us, these disappeared into the mist that seemed to be returning. Then the rain hit, and did it hit. Waterproofs were thrown on just in time for something akin to a monsoon hit us then. Ben Ever became Ben Never for, in the light of the deluge, it was decided to take the track round it rather than go over it.
We kept to the track which contoured the side of Ben Ever above what might have been the top of Alva Glen. Had the rain not been so heavy, we might have stopped to consult the map. However, it was not the weather for stopping. We ploughed on through the wet. Then the rain eased and the sky lifted before us once more. Yet, we still managed to come into the fog before the top of the pass. When this happened, we can’t be sure for rain and mist merged one into the other. All we can say is that the rain went and the fog was here.
Rex set the pace when we left the track at the head of the pass and took to the open hill. It’s always a bad move to let Rex set the pace for he can move faster than the rest of us and today was no exception. Quad tracks eased the climb but still Robert and Jimmy struggled on this upward section and Davie complained of a sair knee. View stops might have been called if there had been views. As it was, the mist closed thickly around us and we struggled on upward. The climb wasn’t too long, though, for we had done most of it on the track and we gained the summit of Ben Buck before we knew it. We also gained the full strength of the wind. Though this was strong and cold, it was in the tail and was no hindrance as we walked over the top of Ben Buck. towards Ben Cleuch.
Paul’s GPS said we now had very little ascent to the top of Ben Cleuch. It was right. The slope was gentle and the wind on the back was an assist. We got to the top easily enough and, as we did so, the mist lifted to reveal the landscape below us brooding under the heavy sky. Yet, the sun shone in the west and we were optimistic of a better day now given our weatherman’s prediction. It was now five to one, the rain had gone, and the sky was clearing. However, the wind was strong and cool and we didn’t wait too long on the top. We came down to find a reasonably sheltered spot for lunch. The sun now shone in the east as well, over Fife. In fact, it seemed to be shining everywhere except where we sat. At least it was dry.
Peece finished, we moved on. In front of us now rose Andrew Gannel Hill with an outcrop of rock marking the summit. ‘The last ascent of the day’, said Paul and the climb was easy for there was now a path to take us there.
'It's all downhill now' said the wise one, and it was. We dropped down the slope of the hill to the top of a steep-sided glen, Gannel Cleuch, and extension of the Mill Glen according to the map. The path led us down and across the steep side of this glen but it was narrow and we were reduced to single file again. Johnny, in the rear, called a halt to remove his waterproofs. He was heating up inside these. The rest persevered. Twenty metres later we had a silly-bugger's halt to allow Johnny to put his waterproofs back on as the rain came again. This wasn't heavy rain nor did it last long and it was the last we were to see for the day. We kept the waterproofs on, though, until we had cleared the hill at Tillicoultry and the sun shone on us at last.
Paul lied. Andrew Gannel Hill was not the last ascent of the day. When we found our way through the village and found the path back to Alva, it rose like a tarmac ski-slope in front of us. Nor was this the last climb. An even steeper one awaited us by the cemetery at Alva. Yet, between these climbs, the walk was pleasant. We came through a wood of autumn colour that put us in the notion for Nithsdale next week.
It was on the down slope by Alva House that Johnny found it easier to jog than to walk for the pace had been gradually increased by the advanced pair of Rex and Jimmy and Johnny’s French break was telling on him. The cadence was kept high for the rest of the walk, even on the steep into Alva, and the group was split. We arrived back at the transport in two groups around a minute apart.
Paul was complimented warmly for his choice of walk. It won’t be the last time we come to these hills. However, it will be the last time we believe him when he says ‘This is the last ascent of the day’.
Our newfound friend of this morning was correct in two things - it was cold on top of the hill and the pub was good. It might not be the last time we use it.