Up in Blair Atholl for a magical week, celebrating my son’s 20th birthday in our cosy Sykes cottage. The weather gods smiled, giving us a perfect night to experience the dazzling Enchanted Forest light show – pure Highland magic!
But Thursday? That was MY day. An early alarm, layers packed, compass and map ready (always – safety first!). I laced up my running shoes, threw on winter gear for the high winds, and set off before 9am from near the Bridge of Tilt. What followed was a 37km adventure through ancient forests, rushing rivers, and the wild heart of Beinn a’ Ghlo, one of Scotland’s most spectacular three-Munro massifs.
I jogged through the streets, crossed the old bridge, then plunged down uneven steps into a peaceful woodland. The River Tilt roared on my left, autumn leaves crunching underfoot like nature’s own drumbeat. The cool, crisp air filled my lungs, pure freedom!
As I got deeper into the forest trail, I spotted a cheeky red squirrel scampering up a tree, gathering nuts for winter. These fiery-tailed natives thrive in Highland Perthshire’s conifer woods, a real treat, as they’re rarer than gold in many parts of Scotland.
At the top of the hill, I turned right towards Monzie. There, a green sign pointed to Strath Ardle, and a wooden bench invited a quick rest. Glimpses of Càrn Liath (the first Munro) teased me ahead, with its clear path snaking up the slope.
Nearby stood the 1st Marquis of Montrose Memorial, a simple cairn erected in 2003 by the society dedicated to James Graham, the 1st Marquis of Montrose. In August 1644, right here, he raised the King’s Standard and launched his legendary “Annus Mirabilis”, the “Year of Miracles”. A brilliant Royalist general, Montrose led daring campaigns across Scotland in 1645, winning stunning victories against overwhelming Covenanting forces. A true Scottish hero, poet, soldier, and legend!
Past Loch Moraig (with its no-fishing sign and pay-and-display car park), I turned right before Monzie farm, through a gate by a wooden barn. Then the real climb began, a well-built stone path across marshy ground, scarred by years of hikers. Light running gear felt perfect at first, but as I ascended, the wind howled and I was getting chilly. At the summit of Càrn Liath (975m, grid ref NN 93605 69830), the gusts were fierce! Time to layer up, hat, gloves, jacket. Views stretched over Blair Atholl towards the Lowlands.
Yeah, so my next Munro was Bràigh Coire Chruinn-bhalgain, which is 1070 meters high. The trail began fine, but as I went higher, the snow got heavier. Then a thick mist came in, and I couldn’t see anything at all.”The fog just ate everything up!” I can still hear myself thinking, “This is it, the real adventure begins now.” Just thinking to myself, this is the real adventure starting, and honestly, feeling a bit panicky. I’ve got my compass in hand, and I’m trusting every single step as I go across these icy boulders and those slippery red rocks. It was quite an experience, really, like trying to find your way across a frozen battlefield of blood.
Then onward to Càrn nan Gabhar (1121m), the highest of the trio. Deep snow, zero visibility, but the thrill kept me going. A flicker of panic? Yes, but my map (bought the day before) and compass saved the day. I always keep them in my pack lid, lifesavers!
Time to descend. North, then northeast to Meall a’ Mhuirich (NN 97056 75253). Sharp drop to the River Tilt. The trail vanished in places, but I found it – only to spot a herd of red deer bounding gracefully down the valley. Majestic! (Later, I met hunters tracking them, glad I scared them off!)
Crossing the rushing river was a challenge. An old rotten wooden sleeper bridge? Too dangerous! So I waded in – refreshing icy water soaking my feet. Pure exhilaration!
Back on the main trail along Glen Tilt, one of Scotland’s most beautiful glens, carved by ancient glaciers. I ran past Forest Lodge (NN 93378 74126), a stunning historic sporting lodge on Atholl Estates. Sleeps up to 20, tucked 8 miles up a private track by the river, surrounded by mountains. I counted over 20 foreign cars heading there – luxury in the wild!
A few miles on, a bridge (NN 88131 70089). I pushed straight ahead onto the upper trail. Darkness fell, head torch on. Heavy rain, proper boggy fun, past Upper Blairuachdar Wood. Then back to the main road.
Soaked and triumphant, my wife picked me up at Middlebridge in torrential rain. That night, the power cut out in Bridge of Tilt, but I didn’t care. What a day!
37km, three Munros, fog, snow, deer, history, and pure Highland adventure. I loved every wild, foggy second.