An Aberdeen Hillwalkers route from Lary to Logie Coldstone revisited Morven which has been a common hill for me, but I thought I’d head “off-piste” a bit to explore some nooks I’d not looked at before. I split from the pack at Morven Lodge, I’d intended to head over to Slacks of Glencarvie to find the cave there as part of a “howffs and caves” research project, but this would require fast miles and a long distance; another chap asked to come with me on my stravaiging, and unknown if he could hammer out thepace required decided to limit exploration to around the lodge and then another location later.
Poking about inside I saw this odd message on a wall and wondered about the tale behind it. At least 2 folk had hunkered up inside – John and Madge, and presumably Madge had either arrived late or been out wandering herself and John had had to leave, but left a sleeping bag and some pemmican – an unusual food (dried meat with sometimes berries in it – comes originally from native Americans). I can imagine Madge might have been quite disappointed to turn up to find just the ghosts of yesteryear to accompany her sojourn; I hope everything worked out ok!
After the stables there’s also another couple of out buildings, getting gradually more decrepit the further uphill we went, one a keeper’s cottage one a shepherds.
We now turned to the ascent of Morven, off track and much rough terrain, with lots of reedy bog and brash of an old clearfell
From above, the tree cluster stands out, but will in time gradually disappear. The area is grazed heavily by both sheep and deer, the estate is essentially another anti-conservation one. The trees will grow old and no young trees can survive to replace them. There have been a lot of big storms in recent years, and each time I imagine one or two weaker trees will be lost.
An incoming message made for a twinge of jealousy – in the distance a friend was heading up to scramble a ridge on Beinn a Bhuird, and I could see there’d be snow involved
Making it to the top we didn’t hang about in the chilly breeze, and it’d taken us a bit long to make it this far – I could see the ‘tail end’ of the main party ahead in the distance. The next exploration was also on rough ground off the side of the hill but downhill assisted haste.
We headed down to Bad na Beinne, then finding a shieling noted on a previous trip followed the terrace along. Nestled amongst the heather lies another ruin, smaller and more compartmental – I’d read a note it being a possible illicit still ruin. It has the neccessity of being well hidden but would appear to have no ready source of water, though I suppose there may have been a pool at one point. I took a few photos which I’ll put back on to Canmore for others to check if interested.
We hurried over to the Balhennie path that heads down the east side of Morven, it’s quite slippery, loose and steep but we caught up with the pack.
I got talking to a group of Norwegians who were visiting and out for a walk with the club, about wildlife and nature. We discussed ptarmigan and I mentioned finding one dismembered in the mountains with the gizzard lying loose – only to get the response they have a rare drink which involved the use of said ptarmigan part and it’s content as a flavouring!
(further research later : found this from Greenland instead of Norway)
Being architects by trade they were also interested in the Balhennie cottage ruin. I told them there’d be at least one more further on.
Beyond Bridgefoot we were on a farm road which then entered some lovely woods so I was primarily alert for mushrooms (finding one large chanterelle) and almost forgot the ruin of South Milton Cottage.
It’s in a beautiful wooded nook, and would have been a bit of paradise for somebody at some point – there were a number of unusual quirks to what remained hinting of a creative love of the place. The location has a brief mention of an ‘eccentric tenant‘ (I’ll have to see if I can find a copy of the Jim Henderson book on Grampian) and a photo by (of course) the photography master of Aberdeenshire derelict abodes – James Dyas Davidson. Holeousia has a nice tribute and a film clip and also has some additional info and puts a time to when it was likely abandoned.
The map has ‘curling pond’ marked, but it looks like many years since a game was played – though a blether with an old chap at a nearby cottage said it had indeed been played in recent years, though of an age and in this sleepy locality I imagine years may pass uncounted in peaceful bliss.
All back in good time we left the sleepy hollow for the bustling Boat Inn at Aboyne for an ale. I pondered that I’d missed a ‘winter’ opportunity in the higher mountains; if another early fall came I’d be a bit quicker to take advantage.