Big, bleak, lonely: Ronald Turnbull has two high-level days on the ’Way
THE SOUTHERN Upland (SU) Way was born in 1984, the product of a ‘let’s have another baby’ moment after the success of the
West Highland one. It came into being full of promise, borrowing the idea of Wainwright’s coast to coast just across the border – even including the little bit of clifftop at either end. It would be as busy as its big brother the WHW and regenerate the empty lands.
The crowds didn’t come. The Southern Uplands are somehow just too wild, bleak, remote and unappealing.
The Galloway Hills aren’t pretty like the Lakes. Yorkshire is busy with field walls and old stone pubs.
The Ettrick Hills are empty.
The North Yorks Moors are intercut with little green valleys. The Lammermuirs are brown heather all the way.
Rather than a tasting menu at the gourmet restaurant of life, the Southern Uplands are a wholemeal munch. The rounded hills and peaty rivers are the underfoot equivalent of brown lentils and herbal tea.
But you know what? A long distance walk ought to involve a bit of loneliness. Every lifetime should involve a few sections of bog. And with a new Harvey strip map of the route, a newly revised Cicerone guidebook, and a new high-level section east of Moffat, it seemed like time for another look at the SU Way. Especially as I was the one commissioned to do that guidebook update...
So last July saw me on the not-yet-official new bit of the path. Its airy ridgeline soars like the Skye Bridge high above the dreary sea of spruce trees. At the ridge end, handcrafted zigzags run down to the curious threeway col below Ettrick Head.
Steep stream hollows run out in three different directions. The Way teeters high above the small waterfalls of Selcoth Burn, looking across at the scree ravaged slope of Craigmichen Scars. It’s a place where scratchy little lifeforms in the rocks, graptolite bacteria from 450 million years ago, helped unravel the mysteries of the Ordovician Period. Along the narrow pathway, with even the skylarks silent, I felt like a scratchy little lifeform myself.
I passed Over Phawhope bothy, and headed up onto the Ettrick ridgeline that ought to be the SU Way except that the Upland Way perversely dives downwards to follow the valley road. The ridge was an afternoon delight. Steep drops on either side, to Moffatdale and the Ettrick. Well-drained grassy top, with rock knobs to sit down on. Sunlight and rain showers chased each other across the hollows, and a harsh half hour under the rain hood gave way to golden sunbeams, wet grass sparkling and a rainbow over Ettrick Pen.
Not all of the SU Way is this good – the 60km west of Bargrennan is actually pretty poor. But after a cosy bivvy bag night in the ridge’s soft grasses, my second day continued with high grass paths, empty lands and silence.
I suppose some would want a roof over their heads. But really, the spirit of the Southern Uplands requires the rattle of the rain on a plastic bivvy bag, high on the ridgeline wrapped in cloud.