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| View from near the top |
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| Views from the top of Dumgoyne |
A while back I blogged
about receiving a list of ’50 things to do this year’ from a complete stranger
somewhere in the world. I thought it was time to start focusing on it again or
I’m never going to complete everything before the year’s up. So this weekend I
ticked off number 39, (I’m not going through the list in order – I’m not that
far on with it!!), and ‘went on a mountain hike’. Even although I live in
Scotland, where there are plenty of mountains/hills, I’ve never been up a proper
big hill – no matter how many times friends/family have tried to persuade me
otherwise. For about ten years I’ve stubbornly refused, saying I’m happy enough
just enjoying the views from their photographs. So haha, stranger from
somewhere in the world – you’ve finally broken me and introduced me to a new
experience, which was the whole point of this 50 task thing really...
I have to confess I went to a lot of bother questioning which hill I could get away with calling a small mountain in order
to complete this task. Dumgoyne, on the edge of the Campsies, fitted the bill
for me as some online blurb refers to it as a ‘mini mountain’, and a seasoned hill walker (accidentally I think) referred to it as a mountain. According to
Wikipedia Dumgoyne is 1,402 feet - a reasonable enough challenge for my first attempt
(see that use of ‘first’ attempt – my subconscious is already telling me to get
back up another, bigger one).
So off I set with an experienced hill
walking friend in tow, who mocked my rubbish hill walking (sorry mountain
walking) attire – ie. jeans (they were stretchhhhy) and no waterproof (it was
sunny when I left my flat). The walk up to Dumgoyne is very pleasant; up a
winding path, past a few farm houses and through a field with weird and
wonderful trees, up over a fence and stream...then the real walk began.
Dumgoyne is a rather steep climb. I was
grateful for the worn ‘footholds’ imprinted into the hillside, as there were a
few moments where it would have been easier to slide backwards, than move
forwards. One of my favourite things about being up high was being able to see
which towns in the distance the rain was falling on; it formed blankets of
mist, curling down from the clouds, and it spurred me on to walk faster . ‘Get
to the top before the rain reaches us’, was my half beat mantra. The rain
caught me before I got to the top of course, probably at the steepest point of
the climb, (the part of the climb where I was a bit out of breath and wondering
why people did this for fun). It was a horrible drizzly rain that seeped into
my jersey hooded top. Seasoned hill walkers probably saw me coming a mile off,
wondering what the hell I was wearing and why I was half clinging, half walking
up the mountain at this point.
But then I got over the steepest point, and
the top (the end!) came into sight and I turned to look at the view behind me
and it felt good, clambering up this mountain, with only miles of trees, lochs,
fields and clouds in the distance. Reaching the top felt even better- as I
climbed the last steps I was rewarded with a hauntingly beautiful image of mist
surrounding the hills to my right. Here’s a photo of me at the top to prove I
really did complete the walk!
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| Me at the top |
I was stupid enough to think that getting
up Dumgoyne would be the hardest part, but actually getting down was more
difficult, due to the steep drop. I did that thing of half sitting, clinging
onto grass, attempting to slide down some of the way on my bum etc, to avoid
falling head over heels and rolling all the way back down to the car. My ankles bent at such strange angles it reminded me a bit of a painful snowboarding
experience from years back.
Once I was upright again at a decent angle,
the walk became pleasant once more. I’d half joked earlier to my walking
companion, “Ha, can you imagine mountain biking down a hill like this?” and
couldn’t believe it when we passed two teenage boys on their way up, carrying
bikes.
They smiled hello and I stared at them. “You’re not seriously going to
cycle back down are you?” I said, like I was their mother. “Yes,” They scoffed. Haha, stupid me-of
course. Enjoy your suicide mission, boys. We didn’t stick around to find out if
they made it. How they even managed to keep balance to carry their bikes
up there I don’t know...
So one of my favourite parts of the day, I
have to confess, was going to a great little cafe afterwards
and drinking this amazing chocolate milkshake.Yum!
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| Milkshake |
One mission complete, only another oh, 40
odd to go...
