The Lomond Hills (2)

Living in a small Burgh during the 1960's there wasn't much for teenagers to do so when I joined the local Youth Fellowship I suggested taking a party walking in the Lomonds.

 
Philip and I had a plan. On a Saturday afternoon in June we were dropped at Craigmead
and walked to West Lomond. The climb to the summit was a struggle because we were carrying heavy packs. We pitched the tent as best we could on the stony summit and it wasn't long before the wind got up and the top was enveloped in mist. The tent was to be a halfway house, as it were, for the walkers the next day.




Falkland Hill from Bishop Hill. 2016. Mixed media. 29 x 42 cms

We spent a reasonably comfortable night in spite of the gale and the mist had cleared by dawn. After a leisurely breakfast I wandered down to Falkland while Philip nipped down to Glenvale to get water.

I had expected a mixed party of about a dozen people but only four girls arrived. I was annoyed by this but quickly set off up Falkland Hill with the girls. This was a struggle. There was lots of moaning and groaning but eventually we made it to the summit to find  it crowded with hill walkers, Cubs and families with little children. The girls sat down to eat their lunch, prematurely, I thought. They were shocked when I pointed out the little orange speck of the tent on the summit of West Lomond as their next stop




John Knox's pulpit. Mixed media 29 x 42 cms. 2016
The cave is in the centre of the picture.




The ruins of Drumain farm in the 1960's. West Lomond in the Background

 

Crossing the moor below West Lomond we met Philip who had come looking for us because he thought we were late. He was right. Everything had taken much longer than I thought. The girls struggled up to the summit and snuggled down behind a little stone windbreak while we fiddled with the stove in the tent. A fierce gust of wind flapped the canvas which knocked over the stove and water. We started again but when the water was beginning to get warm the stove ran out of fuel. By this time the girls were beginning to get very cold and started to crawl into the tent. Soon there were six of us in a two man tent passing round biscuits and sipping from two mugs of tepid coffee while the rain sprayed through the canvas. Quit clearly we had to act. While the girls returned to the limited shelter of the stones Philip and I struck the tent and bundled it up as quickly as we could. It was a relief to be moving just to get off the summit and out of the vicious wind and rain. We were all soaked but while Philip and I had windproof hill gear the girls were lightly dressed and we still had a long way to go. Lower down morale picked up a bit but it was still a plod through wind, rain and mud. We reached the town of Leslie a sadly bedraggled crew, but by luck stepped straight onto a bus that took us back to Kirkcaldy.

All things considered the girls had done really well. It was my plan that had been over ambitious. A walk up Falkland Hill would have been enough for a first trip and hanging about the summit of West Lomond, even in summer, risked  'exposure' cases. We had been lucky.





On a winters afternoon Robert and I left Leslie behind and walked up the long slope towards Bishop Hill. It was dark and gloomy but with a mild wind blowing. We crossed drifts of soggy snow and dropped down to Glenvale as darkness descended. On a previous visit I had noticed there was a cave half way up the sandstone outcrop of John Knox's pulpit. By carefully negotiating a ledge it was possible to gain access and it was big enough for two people. We swept out the accumulation of rabbit purls and spread newspapers on the cold sandstone. The candle flickered in the draught but there was room enough to cook. It was a long, windy night. There was little chance of us rolling to our deaths because the cave was deep enough to sleep with our feet pointing out towards the void. We were glad when the dawn came up, bright and sunny. I was cold, stiff, sore and desperate to get moving. However, breakfast took slightly longer than usual because both of us had forgotten to bring spoons. I ate my porridge with the flattened end of a Nestles milk tube and Robert with the corner of a sandwich box lid. Then it was up, passed the Devils Burdens, over West Lomond and across to Falkland before meeting another walker. We were ahead of the game, as they say.



The Bonnet Stane. Mixed Media 41 x 59 cms

Since those early days in the Lomonds inevitably many things have changed. The actual pulpit part of John Knox's outcrop, a fantastically eroded, almost Gothic structure near the base of the rock collapsed in 2004. Two large sandstone blocks at the top have broken away and seem to be slowly moving to the edge. I wouldn't be too keen to sleep in the little cave now.

Although the climate takes it's toll the major changes are inevitably human. Kirkcaldy and the then new town of Glenrothes have expanded and populations increased. Most people own cars and the pressure on the hills, now seen as part of the 'recreation industry' has dramatically increased. What we knew as the Paps o' Fife are now politely known as the Lomond Hills Regional Park under the stewardship of Fife Coast and Countryside Trust. All a bit of a mouthful but they have done a lot of useful work.

Although there were always farm, quarry and forestry tracks in the Lomonds, walkers tracks were established by custom and practice. These were sometimes difficult to follow and in bad weather would deteriorate into swamps. Under the management of the Trust new paths have been constructed and old ones maintained and improved. The new Glenvale track snakes like a pink and orange ribbon through the landscape.The paths are wide enough to take mountain bikers as well as walkers but no doubt, with time, vegetation will encroach and soften their impact on the landscape.

There is now a long established car park on the east shoulder of Falkland Hill along with a cluster of Telecom masts. The car park and toilets at Craigmead allow access to both Lomond hills. On the north west periphery there are small car parks for the Bonnet Stane and Glenvale, and in the south at Holl reservoir. To my mind one of the best improvements has been the opening of the path up picturesque Maspie Den to where it turns under the waterfall. From there it is linked by a track to Craigmead where you can carry on to East or West Lomond.

All these improvements, essential to prevent the erosion caused by such an increase in visitors, create the sense that the Lomond Hills are a managed park, which of course, they administratively are. But in wind and wild weather the high places always blow away the cobwebs and solitude can occasionally be found.




Carlin Maggie, Bishop Hill

The Lomond Hills

Falkland Hill from West Lomond, winter 2015

 

When I thought of doing a blog about an artist in the Scottish Hills I wasn't sure which hills to start with. Then I thought  "start at the beginning", so it had to be the Lomonds of Fife.

 

I have a special affection for the Paps, as they are known locally. It was on these modest hills and the nearby Ochils that I first ventured as a teenager. This was at a time when four young lads from Liverpool were climbing not the hills, but the pop charts.

 

I was a member of Kinghorn Scout troop and four of us were doing the hikers badge. We were now on the second hike, still only ten miles. Now ten miles is hardly a days walk but there was a catch. We had to camp out and cook a hot meal which meant carrying everything on our backs. I had been apprehensive about this hiking lark and didn't know if I'd be able to cope with the heavy load.

When we returned we had to submit individual reports with times, points of interest, map references, list of kit carried, food eaten and hand drawn sketch maps. These short strolls seemed, in fact, quite daunting.

 

I had prepared for this, not by doing press ups and going jogging but by cutting a stout ash staff from my fathers smallholding and giving it a coat of varnish. This, I imagined, was an essential support for a young explorer. We started from sleepy Scotlandwell which lies below Bishop Hill and looks over 

 



The artist as a young hiker.  Bistre ink drawing. 29 x 42 cms.