Scotland with the LUHC is usually some sort of cold, dark epic. A springtime trip to the Galloway hills however is usually somewhat different. Firstly it's only 3.5 hours on a minibus and secondly, it involves lots of daylight! We arrived at the Glentrool Campsite in rather damp conditions, but luckily got our tents up in the dry. The House O'Hill Inn provided fine refreshment and warmth, it was set to be a rather chilly Mayday bank holiday weekend.
On Saturday morning, the majority of us set off early-ish for the end of the Glentrool road where the Bruce's Stone stands high and proud above Loch Trool. We were aiming for a round of the 'Full Wharch' (wack); our walk had been proudly named by Andy in the pub the night before. Anyway, it became a more and more appropriate name for the walk as the day went on, given the 23 odd kilometres involved and optional 'bag' of Mullwharchar itself midway through the walk. The terrain of the Galloway hills away from the main 'tourist route' up the Merrick is incredibly rough and 'ard going. It makes skipping along the Cairngorm plateau in rock hard winter snow seem like a jolly by comparison. The day provided some spectacular clear panoramic views with a brisk westerly wind. We finished our round of the summits on Craignaw followed by a knee-jerking descent through a mixture of thick heather and saturated ground back down to Bruce's Stone.
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| On ascent of the Merrick. |
Having brought wetsuits on the trip, myself and Imogen had been hoping for a bit of sunshine on the Sunday as we headed out to the Galloway coast at the fishing village of Portpatrick. Things looked promising at first and the sun tried its best to burn through the whispy cloud, being carried by a fresh westerly. However, given that we were still clad in thick fleeces for our morning stroll along the coastal path to Dunskey Castle, that afternoon dip was looking less and less likely by the minute. We returned to Portpatrick after lunch on a small rocky cove in the shadow of the derelict castle and contemplated our plans for the afternoon. After a bit of alpine style dyno-ing on the rocks beyond the harbour wall, the default choice seemed to be to head north along the coast towards Killantringan bay. By the time we reached the sweeping sands of the bay which lies around 5 km north of Portpatrick along the coastal path, the chance of swimming was long gone. The cloud had thickened and a touch test of the water on the beach revealed the temperature was officially still Baltic-esque. No good; our wetsuits were on the minibus. Instead we kept ourselves warm and entertained undertaking the miniature engineering feat of daming a stream.
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| The sun trying its best to break through the cloud on the Galloway Coast. Castle Bay with the ruin of Dunskey Castle standing on the headland to the rear. |
For Monday morning, we could have done with our wetsuits on to negotiate the thick mist that shrouded the campsite. After spending a while contemplating our motivation to leave the campsite, we took the minibus once again down to the car park at Mr Bruce's lump of rock aside Loch Trool. Some were brave enough to head off up onto the mysterious and mist shrouded moorland of Craiglee, whilst the majority of us opted for a pleasant downhill trudge through the forests bounding the south side of Loch Trool. The moist conditions added a hint of atmosphere to the heroic tales of battle betwem English and Scots depicted on various information boards on the forest trail. Following the Southern Upland Way beyond the western end of the Loch, we were now following the Water of Trool westwards towards the campsite. The vegetation had also changed from coniferous plantation to a more natural mix of broadleaf species following a significant woodland restoration project. Whilst still very much juvenile, there were already signs of a thriving ecosystem re-establishing itself in the landscape. As we had walked almost continuously downstream from Loch Trool, we were able to walk right back to the campsite and take some time out for a leisurely lunch before the moorland baggers turned up.
Even by mid afternoon, as we pulled away to the east from Castle Douglas, the mist and drizzle had still not managed to peel back from the Galloway hills! However, our journey became progressively brighter as we skirted around the Solway Firth. We cruised over Shap Moor and down into the Lune valley under clear blue skies and nice warm air.
