Willie Shand shares the fascinating story behind a cairn in his garden
Willie Shand explains the fascinating story behind the unique cairn that stands in his garden.
ON the summit of most hills you’re likely to find a stone cairn. Generally, climbers will add a new stone to it or at least give it a pat to acknowledge their achievement of reaching it.
The cairn I’m standing beside right now doesn’t take much effort to reach.
It’s only a couple of feet high and sits on top of a rockery in my garden.
It was built by my father and completed on June 7, 1978. Its story, however, begins almost 40 years earlier in the autumn of 1939.
That’s when Dad set out to climb his first Munro – Ben Vorlich, at 3,224 feet high. Munros are Scottish mountains over 3,000 feet high.
“Munro bagging” has become quite a popular pastime, but when Dad did the round, there were very few others at the game.
Having the hills to himself was very much the norm, especially as he’d often set out at first light.
This, he always maintained, was the best part of the day.
Sometimes he’d be coming down off the hills after a five- or six-hour trek before most folk would be sitting down to breakfast!
When he ticked off his last Munro in 1968 – 3,290 feet high Sgurr Mor – he was only the 81st person in the official list of “Munroists”.
He’d saved Sgurr Mor and two of the Knoydart tops till last.
As anyone who has set their sights on the Knoydart hills will know, they’re not the easiest to reach.
Fortunately, his friend Eddie Macrae from Letterfearn put him in touch with the local postie, who agreed to take him when delivering the mail from Arnisdale to Barrisdale.
From the Cuillin of Skye, to remote A’mhaighdean and far-flung Ben Hope, part of any expedition is getting to the start.
Today that’s easy – just jump in the car and off we go.
Back in 1939, however, Dad’s only transport, apart from his feet, was a heavy Hercules Deluxe 26" frame push bike.
I still have the receipt for £4-9-9d and, despite it having no gears, it’s still my favourite bike.
Dad’s brother, Grahmy, had a Land-rover which came in handy for rougher tracks like those found in Gleann na Muice.
So, you might ask, what has all this to do with the cairn in my rockery?
Well, from each hill, Dad brought home a stone, meticulously numbered and recorded. Bearing in mind a trek could include several summits, some days he must have been well weighed down!
In 1978, Dad focused on another project – building his Munro cairn. It wasn’t an easy task.
Each of the stones was a different shape and size and the finished cairn had to end with every stone showing a face (those at corners showing two) while maintaining the true lines of a pyramid. A large flagstone made an ideal base.
It was very satisfying to see the last stone, the apex, being placed. That position was reserved for a stone from none other than Sgurr Dearg – the Inaccessible Pinnacle of Skye.
If stones could speak, what tales each and every one of this cairn could tell!
Working in this rockery, the words of the old psalm certainly ring true – “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.” ■