I was up in Dunfermline visiting a friend for a couple of days. As he went off to work in Alloa, he dropped me in Dollar, jealous of the day I had before me. After picking up a ‘manwich’ in a chi chi deli in Dollar (of which there seems to be at least three) I walked through the gorges to Castle Campbell, once called Castle Gloom. I rather wish they’d kept the former name. I discussed my route with the chatty castle warden. Whitewisp Hill–Tarmangie Hill–Andrew Gannel Hill– Ben Cleuch–Ben Ever–Alva. We sounded as though we were discussing a wayward route on the Northern Line.
My 1998 Harvey Superwalker map describes the escarpment of the Ochils as “one of the most striking profiles in Britain… There are few isolated, eye-catching summits, but the 20km line of 40-degree slopes never fails to impress.”
I thought it a tad overly put when I considered them on the map. But as I puffed up Whitewisp Hill and on to Ben Cleuch, thinking that it still takes a fair amount of effort, I understood its wildness, that feeling I’d experienced on the remote Cairngorm hills. I could see for many miles: Grangemouth refinery, the winding Forth, Stirling Castle, the whiteness of the higher Perthshire hills and the marching wind turbines. I juggled a video camera, still camera and iPhone (hey, I’m the Digital Editor and it’s my job – the video you can see on tgomagazine.co.uk).
Don’t underestimate the glens and bens of the Ochils. With a snowy covering, full winter gear would be needed and I’d take a different route down into Alva than mentioned here. Roger Smith, who lived in Alva, suggests following the grassy path down Ben Ever’s south-west ridge to join a bulldozed track that twists down a series of zig-zags. At the final sharp left turn go straight ahead on a path leading into Alva Glen.
