Hiking up Dun da Ghaoithe, "the fork of the two winds"

Don't let the Gaelic spelling (click here for the pronunciation) of this gorgeous Corbett intimidate you; instead try out the view!

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No, although the photos do not do it justice, this mountain is more of a gentle giant. The scale is hard to understand from all the photos, but trust me when I say it's spectacular.

Approaching the beginning....

My climb began mid-morning to cool winds and an overcast sky. I was hoping for better weather, but I wasn't going to be deterred: I was finally getting to climb the mountain I've been looking at for months!

Spring had come to the mountain and little woodland ephemerals of all kinds poked out of the grass. The bracken fronds were unfurling, the bog pink was blooming, and the Primulas were everywhere. I began the ascent easily enough, stopping often to peek at the bits of color of all the tiny flowers.

The views were a bit dreary, but I was lucky enough that the clouds were high. It sprinkled on my only a little bit the first half, and soon spots of sunshine were able to break through. I paused at the radio tower, but was eager to see the peaks of Dun da Ghaoithe once more peek out around the bend.

Two people passed me the whole day. It was just the mountain and me.

Skywalker?

It was amazing as I made it to the second radio tower that the roads behind me, if I turned to look at them, seemed to end at the sky, as if you'd walk off the edge of them.

View down from the lunch spot.

Then, the real hillwalking began. I mistakenly followed dear trails more often than I'd like to admit. They knew how to get up the quickest though. At one point I was almost ascending a rock face, but when I came (well, really rolled on to) the top, I almost slipped down the other side of a very steep hill into the next valley. After a moment to catch my breath in the soft moss, the sky opened up around me and I could see 360 degrees around me. I realized I'd perched where a bird of prey usually did by some interesting droppings, but I couldn't blame it for the view.

I finished the climb to the first cairn steadily, calculating my climb amongst the interesting and misleading boulders. The path between the tall cairn and the sudden drop into the valley was a bit unnerving, and I was very keen to put just one foot in front of the other without looking around.

The path between the cairn and the sheer drop into the valley.

The wind suddenly kicked up as I descended the dip between the two points of the mountain. I began to understand why they called it "the fork of the two winds." I had to put my jacket on and put my bandana around my ears, and then finally put my hood up enough to keep from getting a major headache.

The final hill to ascend to the top. Notice the scree.

The wind made the approaching scree climb ahead of me look very precarious. There was another sudden drop if I were to slip or be tripped up by a sudden gust. *Gulp!* But the jagged pieces of rock were surprisingly sturdy and ages of rain had formed gentle stairs up the face. Slowly, and with sure step, I climbed the last major hill between me and the very top (still making sure to give plenty of girth between me and the edge).

Scree steps...?

And then finally, I was there! The wind came rushing from the Atlantic and Ben More to welcome me with such force, that after a look around the summit, I took shelter on the leeward side of the cairn for some rest. The views were spectacular, stretching over to the mainland and almost to Skye and Iona. It was everything I'd hoped and more.

The path finally taken.

September Pilgrimage to the Isle of Mull

Yikes.....this is way overdue!! So, back in September....

I really wanted to do some adventuring outside of Edinburgh before I started at university, and a pilgrimage to the Isle of Mull seemed most appropriate. I hadn't been since 2003 and I'd always remembered it fondly. I'd vowed to return and go hiking, and now was the time.

A quick four-hour train trip through the beautiful Scottish Highlands brought me to Oban, a popular European resort town, and where the CalMac ferry to Islands sets out from.

Duart Castle, the seat of the Clan McLean, as you approach Craignure on the Isle of Mull.

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From the train straight to the ferry for a beautiful, albeit windy, day scoping out the island and visiting Duart Castle, the seat of the Clan McLean, and my heritage. I took the bus from the ferry to the castle, but walked the three miles back so I could admire the scenery and see if I could find a hidden path up the mountain.

The next day I was on the morning ferry, but after missing the only bus and a miscalculation about a bike, I ended up just walking up the road out of Craignure to see how far I could get to Salen. Well, fate was looking out for me because I discovered a hiking trail at Scallastle, a Scottish Forestry Commission property. The weather wasn't great, with the clouds shrouding the mountain tops and shifting rain eventually drenching me through, but the views when the clouds would clear and the enchanting plants were well worth another trek in the rain.

It was an incredible, but sadly brief trip. But I'll be back soon!

Arthur’s Seat, the royal backdrop of Holyrood Park

One of the remedies for homesickness is hiking and Arthur’s Seat was calling. Holyrood Park is visible from most places in the city, even from the coast of Granton. I’d already resolved to hike it more than ten years ago when I first saw it. Finally, I had a chance to!

After running errands though the bustling streets of the Edinburgh Sunday, I was released to the base of the ancient volcanic hills. Some of them look like old slices of earth that were pushed up millions of years ago. They don’t seem that high, until you see the tiny people climbing all over them.

I assessed how and where I wanted to explore. People had made paths all up the sides of the hills, for better or for worse, besides the main path that lead around the sides of the hills. There was a steep path that quickly ascended the top that was perfect to get to walk along the rim of the rocks and see the city sooner.

It was rigorous, but every brief break was full of breathtaking views of the city. The higher I went the more I could see in the horizon. When I reached the top, I realized I hadn’t reached the top I thought I had. There was a larger mountain, the actual Arthur’s Seat, beyond. A golden valley stretched down below me, so vast the people were even smaller. I saw more hills beyond and more to explore. Yes!

The plants were mostly grasses and flowering herbs on the first hill. Only when I got to the base of Arthur’s Seat did I see trees, and even then they weren’t very tall. Gorse and other shrubs dominated, really. When I rounded the northeastern side of the Seat there were patches of heather all over. Ahh!

I chose another steep path to the top of Arthur’s Sear through a patch of heather. The air smelled like honey and the fuzzy white-bottomed bumblebees were hard at work. Both the climb and the views were dramatic and a couple times I had to remind myself to stop to look at the plants because the way down was straight to the bottom. I took a few breaks to take in the views of the valley below and the land beyond. I was taken aback each time I tried to understand how wide the valley was below. It was like nothing I’d ever seen; so beautiful.

I clambered over the last few rocks and found a path to the top of the mount. The rocks were smooth and slippery from the thousands of people who’d walked over them. I found a seat on the edge looking to the north so I could see over the city to the Highlands. The cold wind ripped over the top, but I was still happy to be on top of the world. I was really here.

I am really here.