Breaking the journey amid the A9 Munros
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OUT AND ABOUT WITH RALPH Away from the roaring traffic on the trunk road between the Highlands and the south, there is a huge area of empty country to be discovered
The A9 is much maligned, but there are far worse roads. It’s a quiet country lane compared with the A66 between Penrith and Brough. And I know of no other trunk road with so much wonderful country so close and accessible. Walks from the A9… a future project!
From time to time I need to make the 400-mile journey from end to end of mainland Scotland and then beyond. Not being one of those macho drivers who just keeps going for seven or eight hours, places for good breaks in the open air are important. When I’m on my own, and the weather is fair, I always try to include a hill.
Having left at six, by 10 I was in Birnam. It was the second day tourism was open for business after lockdown and the town seemed to be blinking into wakefulness after a long sleep: quiet like a Sunday morning, though it was midweek.
There are lots of fine walks around Birnam and Dunkeld but my favourite journey-breaker is King’s Seat, just 1200 feet above the town and reached by a good but steep path up through the Birnam woods. You start just opposite the Birnam Hotel, walking down a short road and underpass beneath the A9 and railway which leads to the Birnam Glen. Soon you are stretching the legs and exercising the lungs as you gain height through the trees, emerging eventually onto flatter, more open and sometimes wet ground Another 10 minutes or so takes you to the fine summit cairn and a vast vista of rolling wooded hills, river and loch. The busy road is forgotten, far below.
By 12 I was setting off again, refreshed and relaxed and ready to take on the roadworks north of Perth and the heavy traffic of the central belt.
A few days later and I was heading back north on one of those perfect days of clear air, blue sky and puffy white clouds. The A9 is like a long, narrow city, isolated from the fine hills above as you concentrate on lorries, cars and campervans, one after another. Then you come to Balsporran, just north of the summit of the pass, and after negotiating an awkward turn left are straight into a big car park with lots of room.
Immediately things are different. Tall purple orchids grow. There is peace, even though the traffic still roars past a few yards away.
I set off past the cottage and once over the railway level crossing was suddenly in the hills. A strong honey scent came from massed bell heather by fresh, rushing burns. A choice of tracks led enticingly upwards. There used to be fine tall cairns on Geal Charn, always beckoning freedom to trapped travellers on the road or railway far below. Unfortunately some idiots destroyed them.
Geal Charn was my objective.
These are the A9 Munros – hills perhaps disparaged by those who like steep, spectacular mountains, but wonderful places of escape on a long journey. Geal Charn is one of the easiest of all 3000-footers. It would take me just under three hours to get up and down.
The A9 is just a tiny ribbon... Even the traffic noise had gone and I had the mountain-top to myself.
These are high, bleak hills, though, and an outing to the tops should not be attempted by the inexperienced except in the most settled of weather. When fitter I’ve manage to also include Beinn Udlamain and A Mharconaich. A good runner could take in the fourth Munro on this side of the pass as well and still get back to Caithness by early evening.
But one Munro was good enough this time to break a journey. The track became a peaty path, climbing through heather. The road and its line of traffic sank below. Heather thinned to bilberry, to cloudberry and dwarf cornel, and alpine lady’s mantle. The air was bracing and cool, the views stretching south to Schiehallion and west to Lochaber. The remains of the old cairns gave a good spot for a late lunch, before a short climb across a now-mossy plateau led to the summit cairn.
Here the views extended across long Loch Ericht to the remote Ben Alder. The A9 is just a tiny ribbon through a huge area of empty country. Even the traffic noise had gone and I had the mountain-top to myself. A lot better than joining the crowds at the House of Bruar!
It took just 45 minutes to get back to the car, that busy drive now completely redeemed.
Get the maps out and see the huge potential for exploring from the A9 next time you have to make that journey.
