Blot on the landscape

Of the several hills I can see from the house, Bishop Hill is the closest and there's never a day goes by that I don't spend a wee bit of time gazing up at it. A couple of months ago, I noticed an irregularity on the skyline; a dark, rectangular object on the crest of the hill. I peered at it but couldn't make it out. I thought maybe a part of the forestry up there had been clear-felled but the object was higher than the existing tree-line. A few days later, on a bright, sunny morning, I saw that the "object" had been topped with a large, white "golf ball". So, definitely man-made then.

To say it dominates the skyline would be a bit of an understatement. On a clear day, you can't miss it. And so, severely pissed-off, I set off on a bright and breezy day to get a closer look. It didn't take long. On the road to Scotlandwell, it dominates the view ahead; a green, metal tower with a white dome on top. You really can't miss it.

40 minutes after leaving the car, I was on the wee, un-named bump near White Craigs. The tower was about 10 meters away from the small cairn, just inside the plantation. I dug the camera out, only to find that the battery was flat. And so, rather than just turn around, I stomped off towards towards "The Bishop", occasionally looking back at the mast. That just made me even madder so I decided to concentrate on the walk. Wasn't that difficult as it turns out because the wind was so strong that it required a huge effort to keeping moving forwards rather than sideways.

The summit was too exposed to hang about on so I headed down the leeward side to get a spot of lunch and watch as lumps of dried moss and grass flew thru' the air like mini tumbleweed. Nice views of The Lomonds as well.

The walk back to the car was a case of "Don't look at it, just keep walking".

Glutton for punishment that I am,, I went back last Tuesday but with a fully charged camera this time.

View from halfway up

A stone's throw from the cairn

Looking back from Bishop Hill, The Pentlands just visible thru' the haze

From speaking to a local, it seems that the tower was constructed by men in "army uniform". That'll be alright then? I'm going to have a wee dig around and see if I can find out who put it there, what it is and whether they had planning permission. If it was the MOD, then they probably don't need any. We shall see.

Familiar Ground

Tuesday 24th July (My Birthday)

As soon as I looked out the window, I knew there was no way I could face driving all the way to Glenshee. The weather was far too good to even contemplate sitting in a car for 2 hours. The Lomonds looked awfy appealing and so, with the minimum of fuss, I threw some food and drink into a bum bag, hopped in the car and set off. Half an hour later, I was parked at Craigmead and ready for the off. The arrival of a minibus full of elderly Ramblers was all the incentive I needed to get going.

West Lomond from the road to Craigmead


The path to West Lomond is an absolute joy compared to the boggy horror-fest that it used to be. It speeds you on your way, the cone of West Lomond always visible ahead and wide open spaces to either side. 40 mins after leaving the car park, I was on the summit.



Some eedjit gettin' in the way of a good photie


East Lomond with Largo Law (left) and the Bass Rock (right) in the background

I took some photies and settled in to one of the big shelter cairns, snacking on Samosa, Beef Jerky and Jelly Babies. I'd been here dozens of times before, in all weathers, but it still felt good to be back. I was just finishing my food when somebody popped up near the trig; a young lass, out of breath and a bit red in the face. She was quickly joined by another. Then another but this time with a laddie in tow. Then an older guy. The proverbial Party of Five.


I nodded and waved then went back to polishing off the last of the jerky. When I next looked up, the older guy had produced a giant blue urn from his pack and was trying to balance it on top of the trig. Stepping slowly back, he then starts taking photies.


Now, I've seen enough piles of ash up there to know what was coming next so, not wanting to be covered in anybody's dead relative, I split pretty damn ricky tick.


The path was a lot busier on the walk back but I merrily exchanged "hiya"s and "crackin' day"'s with all and sundry. Naturally, no walk would be complete without a pair of IB's and, right enough, there they were. An older couple who completely ignored my cheery greeting. They couldnae quite ignore me stopping dead, turning round and muttering "F**k's sake" at their retreating backs tho'.


That was the only downer on an otherwise great wee outing.

And speaking of The Lomonds, it was nice to see them getting a mention in the Routes section of this month's Trail magazine.

The best laid plans

One look out of the window yesterday morning was enough to convince me that Plan A was a no-go. Time for Plan B; The Lomonds aka The Paps of Fife. Two wee hills that I can see from here and where I hadn't set foot for over a year. And so, after the usual faffing about, I set off for the Craigmead car park. In short, Dear Reader, I had a great time. Once I'd become used to walking into the teeth of the wind, it all became easy. I settled into my stride and my mind settled into its' usual musings.

It's territory that I'm familiar with; I've been over that ground more times than I can count but it was still a joy. The sun even put in an appearance as I sat in the shelter of a drystane dyke and looked out over deepest, darkest Fife, drank in the views and listened to the larks* high above, sharing the airspace with a couple of gliders from nearby Scotlandwell.

OK, so it wouldn't impress a bagger but sometimes it's nice just to get out and enjoy the landscape and appreciate what's around you. Wonderful stuff.

* At least I think that's what they were. I'll dig out Hostile Habitats and check.