I was a bit concerned to read that two walkers were charged by police
after being rescued a week ago from Beinn a' Chroin, a Munro near
Crianlarich. Apparently they were not equipped for the ascent, got in to difficulties and the Killin Mountain Rescue Team were called out. The
pair were subsequently charged in connection with 'culpable and
recklesss conduct' having placed the officers and MRT members at risk
from coronavirus.
I don't condone their actions in
breaking the 'stay local' guidelines (they'd driven 60 miles) but reporting the walkers to the
procurator fiscal was not a proportionate response in my view, and I do wonder if the fiscal will think it worth spending public money to proceed.
Mountaineering Scotland pointed out that charging the pair had
caused "concern in the outdoor community". It certainly made me feel uneasy. What next?
Thankfully,
Mountain Rescue Scotland* has said: "Mountain rescue teams
are here to help. If people get into difficulties in the hills they
should be clear that mountain rescue assistance is provided without cost
and without judgement".
"We want to encourage everyone who is able to access the hills to make sure they stay safe and are well prepared before they go".
Fine, but calling out rescue teams should be a last resort. As an example of self-reliance read Sir Hugh's account
here of self extraction from a hill with a broken arm.
* My note:
Cairngorm, Lochaber, Glencoe and Tayside MRTs are not members of Scottish Mountain Rescue.
We were unaware of these goings-on as we dropped down to cross the Frandy Burn to the gate which fortunately was open, either by accident or design, so our disposable gloves were unnecessary.
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The Frandy Burn |
As we joined the grassy path for the climb to Mailer's Knowe a couple on the track by River Devon stopped to check their GPS which suggested to us that they might not be local. They followed us for a couple of kilometres or so before they branched off for Tarmangie Hill leaving us alone with the skylarks and cuckoos for the rest of the day.
It was hot so I changed in to shorts at the top of Scad Hill before we strolled over Cairn Morris, crossed the stile without using our hands and arrived at Skythorn's small cairn. What a day to be on a hill.
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Scad Hill. |
This was the third day of lockdown easing and a Sunday so we reckoned Tarmangie Hill would have more than its fair share of visitors and Andrew Gannel Hill likewise. Sure enough figures appeared at the latter's summit as we spoke, no doubt on routes from Dollar and the 'Hillfits (Hillfoots) villages, walks which we've often done ourselves. We didn't want to join them so followed the long, broad ridge above the Brioch Burn towards Backhills.
Horror. The south and south east slopes of Frandy Hill were being prepared for conifer plantations, a growing threat to the lovely open hillsides of the Ochils. Then we noticed that the northern side of Middle Hill was likewise being prepared. Our hearts sank. Will the Ochils ever be left in peace?
By contrast the extensive bog cotton swaying in the light breeze lifted our spirits and we often stopped to gently handle it or brush our hands against the heads as we walked.
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Just one of the areas of bog cotton |
A long stop for lunch was now in order and we lazed in the sun pondering just when or if we'll ever be able to return to the Highlands without the constant worry of Covid 19. We've more or less reconciled ourselves to staying home this year perhaps driving further afield on day trips when that's eventually allowed. But will things really be much different next year in the absence of a vaccine, treatment or both? And how effective might a vaccine be for the likes of us, not old, but not young either! We just have to enjoy the present, and right now that wasn't altogether difficult to do. Not difficult at all.
Frandy Moss is a familiar spot to us and we know our way through the bog in the wettest of conditions, but today there was no need to pick our way so we wandered at will before the easy ascent to the cairnless top of our last hill of the day. Spacious and open with the usual wonderful views to the north.
Another halt to finish our tea, a descent through old pastures to the track by the burn, a walk through the small shady wood and a return to the car along the Water Board road, stepping aside occasionally to make way for anglers driving home after fishing on the reservoir.
That last paragraph barely captures our feeling of contentment.