Outdoor Odysseys

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

Published on 12th January 2025 Estimated Reading Time: 14 minutes

It was a series of weekend visits to Stirling that drew my eyes towards the Ochil Hills to the east of the city. My first recollection of that happenstance takes me make to February 2016, in a period when other life activities sapped energy for exploring the outdoors. Just finding a hotel for a night and wandering around the historic citadel was enough for me. There were other visits, like a photography inspired one in May 2019, part of a run of Scottish incursions that year. The pandemic confined me to local wanderings, yet the possibility of a Scottish one based in Stirling never left my head.

When Scottish hill country outings came to mind, the lures lay further north and further west. It was too easy to pass Stirling en route to elsewhere. Eventually, thoughts turned to using the place as a springboard for exploring less familiar parts. Overlooked though they might be by many, that meant the Ochil Hills; they inspired a first trip to Scotland late in August 2022. While heading up there, the idea of Ben Ledi also popped into my mind, dividing my loyalties in the process.

The Ben Ledi forays get described elsewhere, while this report collates those centring on the real inspiration for the August bank holiday weekend excursion. There was a return several weeks later in September, around the time of the Royal funeral for Queen Elizabeth. That was to attend to some loose ends from the first traverse when a soaking was my lot. Though there was an added consolation at the end of August before I headed south again, it took until November 2023 for some photographic closure to be reached.

A Tillicoultry Circuit That Got Me a Soaking

If the weather that I had enjoyed during the ascent of Helvellyn on the last Saturday of August 2022 had continued, there would have been no dilemma posed by my dreaming up an ascent of Ben Ledi to complement an incursion into the Ochil Hills. However, the run of Scottish weather did not make life that easy, even if it looked promising when I got to Stirling on the Sunday of the same weekend when I hiked up and down Helvellyn.

Based on the height of Ben Ledi, I decided to visit that on the bank holiday Monday when I had a guarantee of clear summits. The bank holiday was English and not Scottish, which made public transport work better for me around Stirling than it would have done around Macclesfield. The decision meant that I left the lower tops of the Ochil Hills for a day when summit visibility was not a foregone conclusion. There was a price to be paid for that.

There is an enduring memory of dark dreich mornings during this August sojourn. Even so, that must not have been the whole story, for I got some brightness to start my Ben Ledi foray and a brief incursion into the Ochil Hills in bright sunshine before my journey south. Two mornings would have brightened on that evidence.

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

The problem then was the morning of my first Ochil Hills traverse. However, the air remained drier at lower levels; the problem was when enough height was gained. There was another hitch: the initial plan had been to ascend Ben Cleuch from Tillicoultry and then proceed east from there. Though there was a warning about a collapsed section of path in Mill Glen, I decided to see if the difficulty could be surmounted. When I found that was not a possibility, I more or less retraced my steps to go west towards and through Ochil Hills Woodland Park. There would be no ascent of The Law, not that it bothered me that much.

From there, I went across Silver Glen to pick up the track leading past The Gowls and The Nebit. If I had wanted an escape route, the way to Alva was signed, but my mind was decided by then. In time, I left the main track to ascend Ben Ever and go into the clag that would soak me until the descent towards Dollar. While visibility was reduced, making use of navigational handrails like fences kept me from going astray. At least, I could not see anything of the wind turbines that were near at hand.

From Ben Ever, I made my way to the summit of Ben Cleuch, the highest top in the Ochil Hills. Given the restrictions on visibility, any descent to Tillicoultry via The Law would not appeal to me; it felt too risky to me in the circumstances. Avoiding that original planned ascent of The Law, found in a guidebook, might have made me use slopes that were less punishing, never a bad thing. In a similar vein, manageable undulations were my lot as I continued from Ben Ever to Ben Cleuch and then to Andrew Gannel Hill. The name of the latter may suggest that it was named after a real person, yet it is more likely a corruption of an earlier Gaelic name.

After Andrew Gannel Hill, the subsequent descent and ascent needed to reach King’s Seat Hill was more noticeable, and peering along the glen leading back to Tillicoultry made me wonder what delights could be savoured if the weather so allowed. This could have been another escape route if I had wanted it too. With a certain determination, I crossed the last major summit of the day before beginning my descent to Dollar.

That dropped me out of the damp cloud to allow my gear to dry a little. The views were clearer too, though there remained a pervading general greyness. Now that I think of it, I had the hills to myself, which was more of a bonus than a consolation. Maybe there are times when dreich and off-putting weather has its upsides.

My descent route took me past Kames and the Banks of Dollar before crossing the top of Bank Hill to commence the final descent into Dollar Glen. The ruin of Castle Campbell lay below me as I continued downhill. Once on the floor of the glen, I may have tarried a while for some refreshments before continuing; lunching on the tops was out of the question. Students of the Dollar Academy, one of Scotland’s independent schools and an alma mater of Hamish Brown, well known for a first continuous self-powered round of Scotland’s Munros, were out and about. That did nothing to stop me acquiring more refreshments, for my journey was not over yet.

Dollar had lost the regular bus service that it had before the pandemic, so I needed to reach Tillicoultry for the nearest stop with a regular service. This feels a bit odd since the southern side of the Ochil Hills is bedecked with places that are not far from each other. In any event, I made for the combined Devon Way and National Cycle Network route 767 that ran along the trackbed of a dismantled railway. Shadowing the River Devon, I shortened the journey to Tillicoultry while glimpsing as much as I could see of the nearby hills, among which I had spent much of the day. This last portion did not take that long to complete, so I could catch the bus to Stirling and dry out even more after my wetting.

Much Drier, Albeit with Limited Sunshine

The combination of a feeling of unfinished business and the instatement of an extra bank holiday due to a royal funeral, that of Queen Elizabeth, meant that I had a chance to go north again. After travelling on the Saturday of that weekend, Sunday was available for what became a walk from Alva to Dollar and Tillicoultry that diverted through the Ochil Hills. There may have been some breaks in the cloud, yet conditions remained largely overcast, not that it troubles me as I write these words.

From Alva, I made for Alva Glen before climbing out of there to approach Silver Glen. My route instead shadowed the glen as I reprised the way that I went a few weeks before. Passing The Gowls and The Nebit, I did not continue to Ben Ever, but instead kept going until the track petered out near Ben Buck. As I kept looking back, I marvelled at what lay behind me and wondered how the landscape would appear if the skies had been more cooperative.

Once on Ben Buck, I realised how close the wind turbines were. Though we have an ongoing climate crisis, these fixtures are controversial in any landscape, and the Ochil Hills are no different. Not being a fan of such industrialisation, they intruded on how I previsualise my preferred photographic results to be. Once something is in place though, we just have to bear with me, and I kept walking according to my plan.

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

An undulating course took me across Ben Cleuch and Andrew Gannel Hill. To the north of where I was wandering, I could glimpse sunlit hills, perhaps wishing for a swap or a bit more inclusion from those breaks in the cloud cover. It needed patience, but some magic began to happen when I was around King’s Seat Hill. It started when I was still ascending after the hefty height loss on the way down off Andrew Gannel Hill. Would it deny me while I was labouring uphill?

Thankfully, it did not. In fact, it gave me time to be in position for the desired lighting and made me wait for it, too. Thus, I dawdled on a photographic vigil that yielded some passing success. When the show ended, I began to make for Dollar again. While the route was similar to that of weeks before, my mood differed after the light show I had been gifted. The day of the week allowed more to be around the town while I continued on my way to Tillicoultry, going the same way as before.

Consolations and Resolutions

This part of the account is going to hop and jump in time. The overarching connection is autumnal sunshine, though in different years and circumstances. It illustrates the strange ways in which closure can be reached. A certain sense of being underequipped is associated with this portion of the compendium of accounts.

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

Firstly, we head back to the last morning of the first trip at the end of August. Inadvertently, I left my Pentax DSLR on overnight and the battery was exhausted. Thus, I resorted to a Canon RP instead, even if that was not as well-endowed with battery capacity and also was not fully charged; some recharging was attempted when morning sunshine was noted. Thus, I headed to Alva while shod in Merrell trail shoes. They did the needful as I climbed out of Alva Glen on the way towards The Gowls, and sufficed for the descent too.

Numerous photos were made before the Canon’s battery ailed, meaning that I needed to use my phone to capture what other delights were on offer. Time was at a premium, too, since I needed to check out of my hotel and travel south. Even so, I was not denied, as the above photo should show you; that was made with the Canon, too. The experience likely encouraged me to return to Stirling a few weeks later.

The same trail shoes, albeit older and showing their age a bit, facilitated another incursion into the Ochil Hills, this time in November. Having halted in Edinburgh a little that day before, mainly for seeing what I could do with eastward views from Corstorphine Hill. That night was spent in Stirling, though, and I had designs on gentler strolling the next day.

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

Before something more expansive happened, I had to visit Gowanhill in Stirling before sampling its delights. After that, I caught a bus thinking that I was going to Alva. However, I blundered and was on the bus to Alloa via Tullibody instead. It might have been my Irish accent, but the driver should have told me when I said Alva. Realising my mistake, I made do with starting from Alloa for Tillicoultry on a wonderful morning. This was no hardship and placed no restrictions on my rambling on a November day with shorter hours of daylight.

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

This time, the Devon Way and NCN 767 combination would get me to Tillicoultry from Alloa, expanding the extent of the route that I have followed over the course of time. Others were out and about, some walking dogs. Once beyond Alloa and nearing Tillicoultry, the Ochil Hills were laid out beside me, making me wonder if I could see Ben Cleuch. In short, they were showing nicely.

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

On making my way through Tillicoultry, I joined the Hillfoots Diamond Jubilee Way near Lady Ann’s Wood. That showed me more of the hills while on the way to the place where I once had hoped to ascend The Law on that first damp traverse of these hills. Passing that, I followed a more direct way than before; the first visit had seen me traipse through the grounds of a disused quarry that I avoided on the November stroll. This was to be a far more civilised amble.

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

The Ochil Hills Woodland Park was the next landmark on my way. The trees were barer than on that August hike from more than two years before. The sun broke through too to make for a far more happy passage among the trees. While proceeding uphill took me towards Silver Glen again, there was much to relish.

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

Once beyond the woods, I found myself below The Gowls. When a lady rambler asked if I was going far, I gave a partial answer because I felt not a little underequipped for hill wandering. People are so friendly in these parts that I wonder if they know me without my knowing them. On my second time in Dollar, I found a lady giving me a broad smile from her car that set me wondering.

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

From distant viewings to up-close encounters and incursions: autumnal traipsing in the Ochil Hills

Once I began to follow the track in earnest, the human encounters declined to nothing, and I could savour the scenic delights in the wonderful afternoon sunshine. The experience showed me what was missing on that second time in the area. At the end of the track, I just turned back. It felt adventurous having even got that far; the top of Ben Buck may have been near, but I prefer to use boots for off track travel like that. Shadows were lengthening, too, reminding me that getting to Alva was pressing. Thus, I set to doing just that and retracing steps from before for that descent. The gradients made me wary until I got to Alva Glen, especially around The Gowls and even when nearing the glen itself. Confidence in one’s footwear makes a big difference.

Once on Alva’s main thoroughfare, I set to awaiting the next bus to Stirling, keenly aware that I might have been cutting things fine for the rail journey home, especially for getting beyond Stockport to Macclesfield; trains stop running earlier on a Sunday. There must have been no issue in the end because that surely would reside in my memory. The trail shoes would be partially retired after I noticed stitching giving way on one of them while on a trip to Limerick a few weeks later. Over the course of three years, they had acquitted themselves well enough to encourage me to get a new pair anyway.

Reflections

One thing that has not been mentioned in these accounts is what inspired me to go following the trails that I did. The short answer is that a Cicerone guidebook had its part to play. In some ways, I ended up assembling routes from portions of what it described while combining others. As ever, there is more to explore, even if that needs more commitment than using the local bus service 52 (it was service 51 that I inadvertently used in 2023). So much has been savoured so far that other designs can wait while other places get their time too.

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