Rhinns of Kells to Corserine - Photo Gallery

It had been a wet night in Galloway but the morning sky was blue as I set off for the hills; the first navigational challenge was to find the turning off the A712 near the Clatteringshaws Loch reservoir. As it happened it wasn't that difficult, just in front of the dam the road to Loch Dee was signposted, slightly worryingly, as “off road to Loch Trool”. After about five miles of twisting and turning on a single-track tarmac road, I reached a T-junction of forest tracks. The tarmac was replaced by compressed stones and a slightly bumpy ride took me past Craigencallie House, yet another derelict Outdoor Centre, to an unexpected car parking area.

The forest road continued past the parking area, I passed through an open gate into the forest for a quiet, lonely walk between the tall trees. As I reached a break in the trees shortly before another junction, I was able to see a quarry that I had seen marked on the map and which I thought might be a viable route onto the ridge. At the junction I turned right towards the River Dee, the road in other direction was signposted as leading to Loch Dee and another sign warned me that the area was covered by CCTV. I crossed the swollen river, River Dee is also called Black Water of Dee, and looking at the turbulent waters it was easy to see why it got its alternative name.

The guide book I was using suggested that I follow the forest road for another couple of miles, but I didn't really fancy that, so I turned right after crossing over the bridge and walked over rough, sodden ground into the disused quarry. It was quite a tidy place for a quarry and obviously hadn't been disused for that long; there was a neat pile of quarried material in front of the rock face. I followed a vehicle track up around the right-hand edge of the quarry face and walked across a lip of grass above the quarry hole, precariously at times on the rough ground. As I reached the top corner of the quarry, I passed through metal fence posts to reach the bottom of a forest ride, a fire-break going steeply up between the trees.

So far so good, but it didn't look like it was going to be an easy climb; so it proved, with long grass hiding steep, swampy ground and a small stream between the boulders. I had to walk close enough to the trees a couple of times and struggle through the dense, lower conifer branches. As the gradient eased I got past the forestry to where the ground was drier; after stepping over soft, grassy tussocks at first I walked more easily across a rising heather-covered slope to the broad, grassy ridge leading to the small summit of Darrou. I found an undulating, faint path, or more likely an animal track, leading towards the distant high point of the ridge; I left the path and aimed for the summit and its rarely visited cairn.

It had been a sunny morning without being too warm, and I had walked up to the small cairn at summit of Darrou with it being so close; after leaving the summit I started to head directly towards a broad col. At the summit I had seen the shower coming my way and it hit me as I started to descend in a shallow gully; by the time I had dressed up in waterproofs and gloves the snow and sleet had gone past me. I descended easy ground to a shallow depression, made my way between peat hags bogs, and then started to climb the grassy ground up towards Little Millyea; this small peak at least gets a mention in the guide book. There was steeper, rougher ground as I got nearer to the summit; it became a long slog through tussocky grass and heather. As the gradient eased I suddenly arrived at a very attractive little summit plateau, complete with lochan, cairn and interesting views.

I descended northwards towards the ridge; I could see a wall going uphill from the col but I walked around the edge of the depression to avoid the obvious swampy ground that I would have encountered on a more direct route. I traversed the contours just above the bottom of the depression, heading towards the wall over lumpy but generally dry ground; I reached the wall just about at its junction with a fence. I then had a steep climb uphill by the side the wall; it was wet and boggy at first but mainly it was grassy with occasional rock outcrops that became more frequent as I gained height. It felt like a long trudge upwards before the gradient started to ease; suddenly I was on the large summit plateau, and I had a plain grassy walk over to the summit of Meikle Millyea with its cairn and trig point.

I continued to follow the ridge, and after a short, easy descent I came to the area named Lochans of Auchniebut on the map. As you might expect there was a lot of water; most of it stored in the many lochans but there were many streams and pools to get across or around. After an undulating rise I descended to the lowest point in the depression and crossed a fence, I had to climb a steep, swampy grass slope before reaching better ground. The easily rising ridge took me to the summit Milldown; a pleasantly undulating ridge, followed by a short descent and climb took me to the summit of Millfire. Describing them as summits is a bit misleading, the cairns on Milldown and Millfire just mark a couple of the higher points along a ridge.

I can't say I made much of descent from Millfire but the climb to Corserine was obvious enough; I walked up the long easy slopes on good ground to reach the large summit plateau. It's amazing, how frequently it is that you see nobody for hours, then, you reach the summit just as somebody else approaches it from another direction. The views were good in the cold air, I looked at the obvious subsidiary summit of Carlin's Cairn but I didn't think I had enough daylight left to make the walk over to it and back.

I descended westwards on easy ground; a faint trodden path appeared in the grass, avoiding the need to climb over the summit of Meikle Craigartson. The path descended diagonally down towards the obvious forest road; I followed the path most of the way until it disappeared in softer ground just above the forest edge. I continued downwards towards the road over increasingly difficult ground; harvested forest remains the most awkward terrain long after the trees have gone. I did see a small path following the contours into the remaining forestry, it would probably have been a way down to the road but I didn't want to risk it with being so close anyway. I carried on downhill, struggling through the tortuous mix of swampy ground and the remains of fallen trees; the struggle only ended after a final leap across a foul-smelling bog got me onto the forest road.

I knew it was going to be a long walk back, there were no landmarks but the reliable road meant I had no navigational worries, and at least I could see the sky with all of the trees having been cut down. The only break in the landscape of tree stumps and large erratic boulders was the Backhill of Bush bothy, containing all the comforts of home; a wood-burning stove, plenty of raw material and a plentiful supply of water in the burn outside. The wall calendar had been signed by the visitors who had left earlier in the day, what a strange lonely place it would have been to come across other people.

There was one more sleet shower before I reached the bridge over River Dee, I had had enough of the forest road by the time I got back to the car.

© Andy Wallace 24th Feb 2008