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| Farragon Hill and Loch Derculich |
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| Route from Edradynate |
Friday 13 January, 2012
Ascent: 595 metres
Distance: 14 kiometres
Time: 3hrs 16mins
c Farragon Hill 780m 1hr 46mins
After weeks of rain, wind and perpetual cloud, daybreak today brought frost and sunshine. The moon had sidled up next to Ben Lomond and they gave a passable impression of Mt. Fuji. The berries on the tree in the garden twinkled in the morning frost inspiring a sense of feelgood. We had spent the night before with three old friends, former work colleagues who had all retired in recent months. We talked about the transition from jobs which consume all your time to the structureless days of retirement and how best to fill them. Whilst there are always things to do, what is missing is the compunction to get out and seize the day. This morning I did just that and headed to a corbett that I had run out of time to climb in 2004. I had run up the adjacent Corbett, Meall Tairneachan, on the way home from Perth one evening after a meeting about preparing for the G8 summit the following year. Farragon Hill is craggy and laced with hill tracks some of which serve the Barytes mine which supplies a weighting agent for the drilling of North Sea oil.
I drove up to Strathtay by Loch Lubnaig and on to Killin, it was a privilege to wallow in the glorious winter wonderland on such a morning. I travelled the length of Loch Tay unable to take my eyes from the hills and the loch and drove on to Aberfeldy. I crossed General Wade's bridge which famously linked the Highlands to Stirling and found my way to Edradynate from where I started the long trek up the south-facing slopes to Loch Derculich below Farragon Hill. The weather and Perthshire countryside were a perfect pairing and the woods were buzzing with red squirrels, pheasants and wood pigeons. As I parked I was passed by a convoy of land rovers carrying a shooting party of 'sportsmen'. I asked one of them if it was alright to park there so that I could climb Farragon Hill. He replied curtly that he had never heard of Farragon Hill, and to go and ask at the farm. The convoy then proceeded to open a gate and drive up a field to be nearer the victims of today's shoot, I was glad that I was going solo.
The early part of the walk towards Loch Derculich was accompanied by a soundtrack of gunshots. But the scenery was magical after recent weeks and Farragon Hill came into view resplendent against the azure blue sky. The farm track curved to the west and dropped to Loch Deerculich which nestled beneath the hills and was studded with Scots Pine. I skirted the loch to the south balancing my way over a small dam and then cutting across some new plantations to find a track leading northwards. At 550m and approaching the top of the ridge, I struck out for Farragon Hill. It was a stiff pull-through peat hag with the last 100 metres of climb through fingers of hard-packed snow. The summit was a knolly peak, like so many corbetts, with splendid views to the northeast and the Grampians and westwards to the massive bulk of Schiehallion. It was warm and still and I had the unusual pleasure of sitting and soaking in the sun on a Scottish hill in winter.
I descended more directly down the snow chutes to the track at Loch Derculich and headed south through the forest for a few kilometres before crossing a new plantation which, despite new deer fences had several deer grazing on the saplings. Crossing the full Derculich burn was a leap of faith but I made the bank and remained dry before finding the farm track and descending the last kilometre to the car. Thankfully the sportsmen had disappeared with their bounty. As an outing, it had been a near-perfect start to the year and I drove back to Aberfeldy and looked around this superbly located town. A few years ago we had stopped at a Turkish restaurant, Checheks, for an evening meal on our way north to Ben Alder and then the Torridons for four days walking for the September weekend. Checheks was still there and from the look of the menu worth another visit. The drive home was mesmerising. I watched the sun melt behind Ben More and Stob Binnein into the orange/red skies as I drove westwards along Loch Tay.
Somedays a walk in splendid solitude is the the key to happiness.
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Inspiration
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