NEWSLETTER 23 made mention of last summer's plague of paint-daubed rocks on Dumyat. There was a long, messy line of yellow splodges all the way to the summit from down near the university campus - despite a perfectly good and obvious path all the way. This was very intrusive, needless to say, and it took most of the autumn for the paint to either wear off or be scraped off by walkers and sheep.
The question was, who could have done such a stupid and selfish thing? - and, while the mystery might not have been completely solved, there is now what Inspector Taggart would have called a lead. A local runner named John MacEwan emailed just before Christmas to say that "a group of Hash House Harriers from down south were responsible for this", ie some visiting runners. Still no precise details - from which hash house did they come, exactly? - but at least it's a start. If anyone from their group is reading this, and if there are thoughts of a repeat run this summer on Dumyat or on any other hill, please take a hint. You're all perfectly welcome to come and run, walk or crawl up whatever hill you fancy, but please remember the old adage about leaving nothing but footprints, and keep the paint tin at home this time.
ON THE SUBJECT of markers on the hill, does anyone know who has been working to improve the cairn at the point where the diagonal path cuts down into the western side of the Mill Glen? This is at grid ref NS911982, at a height of around 260m, and is one of those micro-navigation places where paths join/diverge on steep ground. In marked contrast to the Dumyat splodges, a cairn is a useful aid here, not least if trying to describe the place from afar, eg if asked by someone high on Ben Cleuch about non-Law ways down to Tillicoultry.
Basically (and apologies if this is familiar ground), the cairn comes into play if one traverses the long Millar Hill ridge south of Ben Ever, then crosses the fence (where there's a fairly new stile) to follow the path down the southeastern shoulder. Eventually, in a pleasant little hollow at about 340m, the path swings leftward, east, to become an old grassy track, before curving south, above and parallel to the Mill Glen. Presumably this track is in some way related to the quarry, because it eventually plunges over the abandoned workings. From the cairn, a path has been built, or has evolved, slanting down (again to the quarry-edge fence) before jinking back to reach a beautifully engineered zigzag just above the Mill Glen walkway itself, close to the high metal bridge.
Anyone who has descended from, or climbed to, the Millar / Ever ridge from that side will be familiar with these details, but there must be plenty of Ochils regulars, never mind occasional visitors, who have never been this way. Hence the presence of the cairn at the most vital junction was always useful - but until recently it was only a small cairn, overgrown by nettles in the summer months.
Not now, though - it must have at least quadrupled in size since the start of the year, and the work has been done by someone who knows a thing or three about cairnbuilding/drystanedyking. It's become a cairn of some beauty, and I, for one, am a fan. There are mindless cairnkickers abroad, however, those who transfer their entirely reasonable irritation about needless pathside cairns to every stone structure no matter its antiquity or usefulness. (The lovely and very old cairn on the shoulder of King's Seat Hill at NS922992 suffers vandalism from time to time.) So it's to be hoped that the Mill Glen cairn doesn't take too much of a kicking over the years to come - it's a fine thing, and it serves a very definite purpose.
Which brings me to the question of why? Why has someone taken time and effort to work on the cairn in this way? Is ranger-service money involved, or is it someone's unheralded labour of love? Is it purely an aesthetic thing, or was it reckoned that for such a practical route-indicator to have remained overgrown might have led to some kind of accident? This latter theory is not entirely far-fetched - I've seen three people straying down very steep ground hereabouts in recent months, trying to descend too soon and wandering into the crags that lie between the upper Mill Glen bridges. There are ways down, but nothing comfortable, and the cairned path provides a much better option for all but the wilfully intrepid. Then there was the tragic death in the Mill Glen, on 7 December 2003, of 80-year-old Brian Parnell (for an obituary, see The Herald, 14 January 2004). I don't know exactly where this occurred, but it was hereabouts somewhere, and could this slope have featured such that some bereaved friend decided to make the critical path-marker a lot more obvious on the ground?
THE NEXT NEWSLETTER will hopefully include a few words from someone connected with the recently formed Alva Glen Regeneration Project. Quite what they intend remains to be seen, but I for one would happily see the reintroduction of summer illuminations to the McArthur Braes and the middle glen. Three reasons, really. One: if done well, it would look good and would create a pleasant atmosphere - although I'm aware that this is a subjective view and others might find it naff and ugly. Two: as anyone who has ever visited an "inland resort" such as Matlock Bath in Derbyshire will know, illuminations bring in tourists and add to economic wellbeing. And three: it would surely encourage people - local and tourist, young and not so young - to explore not just the glen itself but also the uplands beyond. In an age of obesity epidemics, of people slobbing in front of television sets, of a general reluctance to walk anywhere, this latter aspect is vital.
It's on fine summer evenings that this is most obvious. I often visit the Ochil tops at such times, and usually the entire range feels deserted - no one is seen, never mind met. This is very nice in one way - I like my solitude and space as much as the next walker - but disheartening in another. Huge numbers live either right beneath these hills or within a short drive or bus-ride of them, and at least some of these people ought to be up there, enjoying the fresh air and the exercise in what can be the best and most settled of conditions. Talk to old-timers and it would appear that the Ochil glens and tops were busier in days gone by, at least in terms of locals taking their Sunday afternoon or summer evening stroll. If rejuvenating the Alva Glen helps to (re)introduce people to the Ochils - and even to hills further afield - then that has to be a good thing.