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INTRODUCTION

Meall Garbh summit ridge, the Tarmachans (Route 12)

For the Atholl highlander of 400 years ago there were two ways of treating any passing hillwalker. Arrive at teatime, and it would be a stool in front of the peat fire, eggs still warm from the midden, a glass of heather ale and a wee skirl on the pipes. That tradition continues in the main street of Pitlochry, perhaps the world capital of the nice cup of tea and slab of shortbread.

But meet him on a winter night, in his filthy old kilt and a thieving chill in his eye – you’re about to lose all your livestock and maybe also your life.

So if you think of Perthshire as little tea-shop towns like Crieff and Aberfeldy, think again. At the back of Blair Atholl you can walk over the tops for four or five days, and when your feet next touch tarmac you’re somewhere north of Aberdeen. In the wilds of Rannoch Moor, your only foothold is a bleached limb of pine, bog-preserved over tens of centuries. No longer ago than 1980, a Mr J C Donaldson discovered in an old guidebook an unlisted and unrecorded Munro. It was called Ben Feskineth. At 3530ft, this secret summit was by no means a marginal Munro. And where was it? Ben Feskineth lay undiscovered in deepest, peatiest Perthshire.

Jolly green giants

In the event, Feskineth turned out to be a misspelling of Beinn Heasgarnich (now, amusingly, respelled again on the Explorer map as Sheasgarnaich). Heasgarnich’s high grassy sides are steep, but not unpleasantly so, and hold snow even in unpromising winters. Perthshire’s grassy, pebbly plateaux and rounded ridges are places to relax after the rigours of Scotland’s rocky north and west. But relaxation is relative, when Scottish hills are concerned. Perthshire’s mountains may be soft edged, and noted for their wild flowers. But easy they aren’t.

Schiehallion across Dunalastair Water (Route 46)

Jolly green giants: those are the hills of Perthshire. And from Schiehallion to Atholl, from Rannoch to Ben Vrackie, there are a lot of them. Soggy grass slopes drop to peaty cols. Cross five or six brown streams, hop in and out of a hag, and get back to grips with another of the long grass slopes. In March and April that grass becomes crisp snow, ready for the kick of a stiff four-season boot or the snick of a crampon. The boggy cols freeze over, the lonely curlew comes back from the seaside, and Ben Lawers and Meall nan Tarmachan look all alpine against the sky.

If Perthshire’s slogan is ‘the Perfect Centre’, then the centre of Perthshire is Schiehallion. Standing atop its tall tent shape of off-white quartzite, you look west along Loch Rannoch to Rannoch Moor, Argyll and Ben Nevis. Northwest, Ben Alder bulges big and serious, but is just 66m too low to be the highpoint of Perthshire. It’s also a couple of miles outside the boundary – but included in this book anyway for its approaches from Loch Rannoch.

Northwards lie the heather humps of Drumochter. Northeast is Atholl, and the dinosaur ridgeback of Beinn a’ Ghlo – with the Cairngorms a snowy white line behind.

Eastwards, though, it’s Loch Tummel of the bright birches and the red rowan. It’s Ben Vrackie, a quick up and back from Pitlochry in time for a nice cup of tea and some shortbread. Ben Chonzie rises green and yellow like a ripening avocado. To the south, beyond Ben Lawers, Loch Tay lies grey in its long hollow. Hidden within the green moorland are the ancient shielings (summer sheep pastures), bright streams and little waterfalls, and woodlands of oak and of birch.

Trees, please!

Golden saxifrage and thyme, Loch Lyon

In this bleakest of peat, brown heather and grey stones, the civilised green of the lowlands reaches in along the rivers. Saxifrage and thyme are bright along the banks of Glen Tilt. The River Garry runs brown in autumn spate while the trees overhead are still late summer green. Glen Lyon, Scotland’s longest, is where the river winds below oaks and birches, with primroses dangling above the water. And the silvery Tay runs big and surprising at the back of Aberfeldy, even bigger by the time it’s got down to Dunkeld.

At the eastern side of the Highlands, Perthshire has slightly more sunshine and a bit less rain. So its valleys can be pleasingly bog-free. Green trackways from Blair Atholl, and made paths around Pitlochry or the Black Wood of Rannoch, offer low-level walking as good as any in the Highlands.

And on stormy mornings, it’s time to take advantage of Perthshire’s other promotional slogan: this is ‘Big Tree Country’. The Douglas fir at Dunkeld’s Hermitage could be Britain’s tallest tree, and is named after Mr Douglas from Scone, in Perthshire – though it takes its Latin name (Pseudotsugam menziesii) from Mr Archibald Menzies of Weem, also in Perthshire.

The Birnam Oak could have been there as a young twig when Shakespeare wrote of Birnam Wood’s coming to Dunsinane to conquer Macbeth. Who hasn’t heard of the Birks of Aberfeldy? And the yew at Fortingall is the oldest living being in Europe: according to legend, Pontius Pilate played in its shade as a child. (This is unlikely, as his mother would have worried about the poisonous berries; and anyway, Pontius Pilate wasn’t Scottish.)

Birnam Oak, Dunkeld (Route 35)

High striding hill ridges; quiet valleys floored with grass rather than harsh heather; big trees and even bigger rivers: these are the pleasures of Perthshire.

‘REAL PERTHSHIRE’

Beinn Dorain over Auch (Routes 28, 29)

Perthshire was abolished in 1975. The name is now applied to the Perth & Kinross Council area: its tourist board is called VisitPerthshire and the council’s website is www.perthshire.org. When Perthshire did exist, it did not include Kinross in the south, and extended west to include Ben Lui and Ben More at Crianlarich.

I’ve used ‘real Perthshire’ as an excuse to include the whole of the Ben Dorain group in the west, even though its main approaches are from Bridge of Orchy in former Argyll. Ben Alder is also included; the county boundary runs past Benalder Cottage, and it’s a fine hill with two genuine scrambling ridges and approaches from Perthshire’s Loch Rannoch.

Perthshire, however defined, is a big place; it contains one in seven of Scotland’s Munros. The Lowland part of the county is represented in this book by a single route in Perth itself. Lowland Perthshire, with some fine walking in the Ochils, is covered in Walking in the Ochils, Campsie Fells and Lomond Hills by Patrick Baker, also published by Cicerone Press. That part of the far southwest included in the Loch Lomond and The Trossachs National Park, and by my own Cicerone guide to it, has been left out too.

I’ve also excluded the far northeast of the county at the back of Blairgowrie. Strathardle and Glen Shee drain into the Isla not the Tay, and feel to me like Angus Glens (and eight more Munros would have meant cutting down on the lower hills, riversides and back valleys).

When to go

April is still winter on the summits, but low-level routes offer good walking then and in May. The leaves are breaking and birds are at their noisiest. Low-level routes are also excellent in October as the birch leaves turn gold.

May and June are enjoyable at all altitudes. July and August can be hot and humid, with less rewarding views. East Highland midges come in slightly smaller hordes than in the west; but are getting worse with global warming. The trick is to keep moving, and when you stop, stop high.

Midges hang on until the first frost, normally some time in September. October brings clear air and lovely autumn colours. In between times there’ll be gales. Over much of Perthshire, from mid-August (sometimes July) to 21 October, responsible access to the hills includes avoiding disturbance to deer stalking (see Appendix A).

Creag an Tulabhain of Meall Ghaordaidh from Stronuich bridge (Route 23)

Winter is a time of short days and foul weather. Snow can lie on the high tops from December to April. Well-equipped walkers skilled in navigation and with ice axe love the winter most of all, for the alpine-style ascents of Meall nan Tarmachan and the 100km views through the winter-chilled air.

Safety in the mountains

Safety and navigation in the mountains are best learnt from companions, experience, and perhaps a paid instructor; such instruction is outside the scope of this book. For those experienced in hills further south, such as Snowdonia or the Lake District, these hills are noticeably larger and can be a lot more remote.

The international mountain distress signal is some sign (shout, whistle, torch flash or other) repeated six times over a minute, followed by a minute’s silence. The reply is a sign repeated three times over a minute, followed by a minute’s silence. To signal for help from a helicopter, raise both arms above the head and then drop them down sideways, repeatedly. If you’re not in trouble, don’t shout or whistle on the hills, and don’t wave to passing helicopters.

To call out the rescue, phone 999 from a landline. From a mobile, phone either 999 or the international emergency number 112: these will connect you via any available network. Reception is good on most summits and ridges, and on hillsides that have line of sight to the A9 or Aberfeldy. Sometimes a text message can get through when a voice call to the rescue service can’t: pre-register your phone at www.emergencysms.org.uk.

Given the unreliable phone coverage, it is wise to leave word of your proposed route with some responsible person (and, of course, tell that person when you’ve safely returned). Youth hostels have specific forms for this, as do many independent hostels and B&Bs.

Being lost or tired is not sufficient reason for calling the rescue service, and neither, in normal summer weather, is being benighted. However, team members I’ve talked to say not to be too shy about calling them: they greatly prefer bringing down bodies that are still alive…

There is no charge for mountain rescue in Scotland – teams are voluntary, financed by donations from the public, with a grant from the Scottish Executive and helicopters from the Royal Air Force and Royal Navy rescue services. You can make donations at youth hostels, TICs and many pubs.

AVALANCHE DANGER

The Scottish Avalanche Information Service’s website www.sais.gov.uk doesn’t cover these less-frequented hills – nearest is Southern Cairngorms. Greatest avalanche danger arises after recent heavy snowfall, on moderately steep slopes facing away from the wind. After snowfall from the west, the east face of Heasgarnich could be at risk: after snowfall from the southeast, you may want to avoid the northern spur of Meall Ghaordaidh.

Maps

Some people enjoy exploring in mountains that are badly mapped or not mapped at all. They should stay away from Highland Perthshire, as it has been excellently mapped – three times over. The mapping in this book for the shorter and lower routes is from the Ordnance Survey’s Landranger series at 1:50,000. For these low walks this book’s mapping may be all you need. For mountain walks, however, it’s advisable to have a larger map that shows escape routes, and the other glen you end up in when you come down the wrong side of the hill. This guide shows mountain routes on 1:100,000 scale maps.

Harvey’s excellent British Mountain Map: Schiehallion at 1:40,000 scale covers about half this book, south of Lochs Tummel and Rannoch, and west of Aberfeldy – so Schiehallion is in the top right corner. The map is beautifully clear and legible, marks paths where they actually exist on the ground, and does not disintegrate when damp. Harvey also cover Ben Lawers in their 1:25,000 Superwalker format.

The 1:50,000 Landranger mapping, as used in this book, covers this area on sheets 42 (Glen Garry & Loch Rannoch), 43 (Braemar & Blair Atholl), 50 (Glen Orchy & Loch Etive), 51 (Loch Tay & Glen Donart), 52 (Pitlochry & Crieff), 57 (Stirling & The Trossachs) and 58 (Perth & Alloa).

The Harvey maps mark fences and walls on the open hill, but not on the lower ground; Landranger doesn’t mark them at all. So if you’re planning complicated valley walks, you’ll prefer the OS Explorer maps, also at 1:25,000 scale. They are bulkier and less robust than the Harvey ones, and the contour lines are less legible. But if Harvey hadn’t done it better, they’d be excellent maps. Sheets 368 (Crieff, Comrie & Glen Artney), 369 (Perth & Kinross, one walk), 378 (Ben Lawers & Glen Lyon), 379 (Dunkeld, Aberfeldy & Glen Almond), 385 (Rannoch Moor & Ben Alder), 386 (Pitlochry & Loch Tummel) and 394 (Atholl) cover the ground.

From Farragon Hill summit to Beinn a’ Ghlo (Route 38)

Compass and GPS

A compass is a very useful aid in mist, even if your skills only extend to ‘northwest, southeast’ rather than precision bearings. Magnetic deviation is now about 4° West; check your map for future years. To convert a map bearing to a compass one, add 4. GPS receivers should be set to the British National Grid (known variously as British Grid, Ord Srvy GB, BNG, or OSGB GRB36). Smartphones have limited battery life and squinty little map extracts, and aren’t really waterproof; mountain rescue teams are getting fed up with people relying on them for going up hills.

Using this guide

Basic planning information is provided at the start of each route. See Type of walk for an explanation of the icons. The difficulty and timing squares are explained in the box below. Times are based on 1 hour for 4 horizontal kilometres or for 500m of height gained, with extra time where the ground is particularly steep or rough. They’ll be about right, including brief snack stops, for a moderately paced party. Where a bus or train can be used to link the two ends of a linear route, this is also noted. Other public transport information is given in Appendix C.

Yellow boxes under the route information boxes make suggestions for extensions, shortcuts and route combinations elaborated in the route description which follows if necessary.

In old numbers, 600ft was a vertical distance, while 200yd was horizontal. I’ve used a similar convention, so that 600m is an altitude or height gain, while 600 metres (with ‘etres’) is along the ground. ‘Track’ (rather than ‘path’) is used for a way wide enough for a tractor or Landrover.

Finally, the ‘standard route’ up a hill is the convenient and well trodden one featured in guidebooks like Steve Kew’s Walking the Munros (Vol 1). It’s usually the shortest, and because it’s so well used, also the easiest. Sometimes it is also the best and most interesting. But to avoid 90 per cent of other hillgoers, simply stay off the standard route.

Perthshire’s lumpy schist is rich in brown slime and rare alpine plantlife, poor in climbing possibilities. There are only two scrambling routes in this book – and being on Ben Alder, they’re not even in Perthshire. Craig a Barns at Dunkeld is the area’s most notable climbing crag. It dries quickly but can be covered in pine needles; its schist is tricky even when clean and dry.

When it comes to climbs and scrambles, Perthshire may not compare with other parts of the Highlands. But when it comes to walks, here are big Ben Lawers and Crieff’s little Knock; Rannoch Moor and the banks of the Tay. For green mountains, for broad snowy ridges, for woodland paths, wide riverbanks, and long-striding tracks across the empty moors – Perthshire is the place.

Rannoch Station (Route 59)