Ever since our trip to Summerhill Farm back in January, I’ve been desperately looking forward to our return to Dumfries and Galloway in mid-July. Just two nights in Galloway was enough to convince me that the hype around Scotland’s infamously overlooked hidden gem was justified, and we arrived with a list as long as my arm of places to visit and walks to do.
Annoyingly, the weekend we travelled up was in the depths of a heatwave, and soaring temperatures of 29+ degrees celsius meant that we couldn’t stop for a walk on the drive up. This weather carried on into our first full day, meaning we were limited to a short early walk on the Sunday morning. This, coupled with torrential rain on the Tuesday, had me feeling a bit down and frustrated about time better spent outside slipping away – but reflecting back on the first half of the week now, we still managed to pack in plenty of things. Plus, it probably did me good to have some enforced chill time – it can be tempting to cram as much as possible, which usually means I get home from a holiday needing a holiday to get over it!
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Wood of Cree
Originally, the RSPB’s Wood of Cree reserve didn’t make it onto my shortlist. The photo in our Pocket Mountains guide was a fairly generic river shot, and the word Cree made me think of the Cree from the marvel films rather than a peaceful woodland stroll (weird, I know). However, with temperatures set to climb to 23 degrees by 9am, we needed a short, shady walk which we could get out and around early. And thus, off we went to the Wood of Cree.
Intending to be back inside before it got too hot for the dogs, our 5.30am alarm meant that we arrived at the car park by 7am (with no other cars in sight, unsurprisingly at 7am on a Sunday). The walk from our guide was around 4km and climbed steadily up through the woods alongside a series of tumbling waterfalls: much prettier than I had been expecting. Although most of the first half of the walk was spent climbing it wasn’t really steep at any point, ultimately bringing us out in a cleared area where views were promised (but didn’t really deliver as I think the trees must have grown a bit since the guide was written!).
Emerging from the trees at the top of the small hill, I was so glad we’d chosen a safer, shady walk: even at 8am the sun was beating down and it was noticeably hotter than it had been under the canopy. We marched across the scrub fairly quickly to dive back into the woods, returning steadily down a trail towards the car park. While not quite as pretty on this side of the woods with a disappointing lack of waterfalls (boo), the interesting information boards detailing the flora and fauna to be found on the reserve continued: it’s home to hundreds of species, from moss and bluebells to bats and otters.
We followed the instructions from our guide book, but the route is also way marked clearly with small arrows, with just one or two points where we needed to check the book to clarify. It’s also available online on Walkhighlands. Like many woodland walks in Scotland, the paths were noticeably clearer and better maintained than in our local woods, although I do think it could get boggy in winter. I think this walk is best done in summer anyway, when the sunlight filtering down through the canopy is nothing short of beautiful and the trees are all in leaf.
Not included along the route but worth a visit before you go is the reserve’s Otter Pool. Just a minute or two from the car park, it’s a truly lovely spot which offers the opportunity to sit and soak in the view, with the added bonus of potentially spotting an otter. We didn’t see any: they continue to elude me in my quest to spot one, but I feel like if I couldn’t spot them on Mull or Orkney it’s probably a me and a lack of patience/noisy dog problem! After, it was back to the cottage for us to hide from the heat, although Sam took advantage of the cottage’s fantastic location to go for a run from the door up Cairnsmore of Fleet.
Dog friendly rating: 5/5. This was the perfect option for us on a hot day. The route is 90% in the shade, with plenty of water and paddling opportunities on the first half of the walk, as well as being stile free. We saw just one other dog walker at the very end of our walk, but we were there ridiculously early so I’m not sure how representative that is of general busyness levels! Please respect signs asking for dogs to be kept on lead or close to heel in the nature reserve.
Clints of Dromore
We’d intended to walk the Clints of Dromore during our visit back in January, however, Galloway was hit with a red weather warning for wind during Storm Eowyn and the resulting tree fall meant that we were unable to get to the start of the walk. Feeling rather like unfinished business, it was at the top of my list for our return.
The one shortcoming of the Pocket Mountains guides is that they do not, unlike Walkhighlands, provide a bog factor rating. Therefore I was totally mentally unprepared for the total bog-fest that this walk was (although the description does mention boggy paths, it just didn’t sink in properly), and was madly kicking myself for not checking the equivalent route on Walkhighlands for the bog rating before we went (it was a 4/5, and I know very well after our Mull walks that my maximum tolerance for bog is a Walkhighlands 3/5!).
The 7km circular route starts from a free car park by the Cairnsmore of Fleet Nature Reserve visitor centre (which has a very clean toilet inside), and sets off along deceptively level and well surfaced trails to pass under the Big Water of Fleet Viaduct (which featured in the classic film ’39 steps’). The route follows the old railway line for a short way, passing a couple of sculptures (there are several along the trail, all of which we missed because we’re not the most observant), before you come to a sign where you can choose either the easy route or the challenging route. We picked the challenging route – more fool us…
A rather anxiety inducing sign at the foot of the trail leading uphill tells you to beware of ticks, and lists a number of handy ways to avoid them, most of which you can’t act on if you haven’t done it already (wear light coloured clothes, put on insect repellant, don’t wear shorts etc.). It also advises to stick to the path and not to walk through long grass or bracken – I think you can guess where this is going.
The climb picks up almost immediately, and it was fairly steep going as we made for a gap in the crags. The good path became a grassy trail, which then became a grassy trail through sopping wet bracken, before turning into a faint hill track which was 80% bog. The views were good, I wouldn’t say great, although perhaps my perception was skewed by the dawning realisation that I was unlikely to get around the walk with dry feet and the fact that the forecast sunshine actually turned out to be intermittent drizzle.
While steep, once we were at the top, the worst of the incline was over and done with – it’s not flat from here, but it’s much steadier. We had the walk totally to ourselves, too: everyone else had sensibly picked a less boggy walk after a night of heavy rain! As I trudged along the trail behind Sam (who loves boggy walks and was merrily skipping ahead), my mood was lifted when we unexpectedly came across a band of feral goats – an instant mood booster. Can you spot them in the photo below? I counted nine – they are exceptionally well camouflaged among the rocks.
Navigationally, you need to keep an eye on where you’re going with this one. While it’s way marked throughout, there’s a while in between posts and the path is faint enough that it disappears entirely at times. This was especially true once we’d made our way down to the ‘path’ running along the valley floor: it was just totally covered by wet, long grass. I thought back to the tick warning sign with great resentment at this point – I would’ve loved to have been able to follow their advice and avoid long grass!
Feeling rather grumpy, it was (for me) just a case of putting one foot in front of the other to get back to the car. It felt like an eternity but in reality the whole walk only took us just over two hours. Sam says he enjoyed it – although I don’t know if he enjoyed the walk or just my general huffiness on the second half of the route! Lesson learned – ALWAYS check the Walkhighlands bog factor.
Dog friendly rating: 2.5/5. The big pluses for this walk are that it’s stile free, and very quiet. However, dogs should be on leads or under very close control due to ground nesting birds, as well as the chance you’ll come across the feral goats like we did. There’s no water other than bog, and you will need to check your dog for ticks thoroughly when you’ve finished the walk.
Ardwell Bay
Of course, the clouds finally cleared (three hours later than planned) as we got back to the car after our walk. Determined to salvage the day before heading back to the cottage, we drove across to the coast to take the dogs for a blast on one of Galloway’s many beaches.
Deciding which beach to visit was tough, as there’s plenty of choice but not too much information about them online. Ideally we wanted a nice sandy beach, quiet, and with a car park nearby (I was absolutely not prepared to put my sopping wet hiking boots back on to hike over to a beach). In the end we settled on Ardwell Bay, a small sandy beach on the Rhins of Galloway.
Driving down to the beach very much feels like you might have taken a wrong turn, first passing through a farm yard and then down an increasingly grassy road, but eventually we arrived at the small-ish car park where there was just one other car parked up. And better still, the beach was completely empty.
I don’t think we can have been far off high tide as there wasn’t a huge amount of beach, but it was such lovely fine sand that we both ditched our shoes to walk up and down barefoot (Sam had a paddle in the sea, I walked on the wet sand near the sea and decided it was too cold for me). The dogs had a wonderful time splashing in the shallows and the views were lovely too. Plus, we were treated to fairly close up diving displays by several gannets just offshore. It’s the first time we’ve seen them this close up and it was quite a sight.
We spent about half an hour just enjoying the sunshine on the beach: it was a far more agreeable 19 degrees celsius as opposed to the sweltering heat we’d had at the weekend. I found lots of beach treasure including a crab shell and a couple of seashells, all of which I left on the beach after I’d admired them. We ended up rather reluctantly heading back to the car, still needing to call in at the shop to get something for tea on the way home, but I feel like Ardwell Bay is surely one of the area’s best beaches.
Dog friendly rating: 5/5. This is a lovely beach off a quiet road, which only leads to the beach car park. Access is via a short sandy path through the dunes with no stiles, and there are no restrictions as to when dogs are allowed on the beach.
The Merrick
Did you even go on holiday somewhere new if you didn’t climb up its highest hill? While this is something we love to do, it isn’t always possible due to the weather, or us simply not fancying a walk which is sure to be busier (hello Ben Nevis in Lochaber and Snowdon in Snowdonia). While Galloway is nowhere near as much of a tourist hotspot as these locations, the weather was our main issue, with the sweltering start to the week being followed by a day of non-stop, torrential rain all day on Tuesday.
All we managed was breakfast at the nearby Kirroughtree Visitor Centre in Galloway Forest Park, which has a very nice dog friendly cafe (including a TV with a live stream from one of their hides, which we sat next to and watched a woodpecker having its breakfast while we had ours). We did also manage a 20 minute mooch along their shortest trail during a brief let up in the rain, then it was back to the cottage to plan the next day – finally forecast to be hill walking weather.
There were a few contenders, but we decided on The Merrick, Galloway’s highest point at 843m. Situated in the wonderfully named Range of the Awful Hand, most routes up the mountain start from the very beautiful Glentrool, where there’s a couple of free car parking areas at the end of the road into the glen.
Right at the start of the walk, we made a quick detour along a track next to the car park to visit the Bruce’s Stone. Erected erected in 1929 to commemorate the Battle of Glen Trool, which was fought in 1307 and saw Robert the Bruce take on a 1,500 man English army with just 300 men of his own, winning a decisive victory. As well as a short commemoration of the battle, the stone has great views over Loch Trool and the glen below, and is worth a visit even if you don’t fancy the hike up The Merrick.
Mostly, people tackle The Merrick via a 13km linear walk starting from Glentrool, although our Pocket Mountains guide included a circular of 15km returning via Loch Valley (similar to this alternative route on Walkhighlands).
I don’t know why, but I wasn’t expecting The Merrick to be a ‘big walk’ – perhaps because it’s officially in the Scottish Lowlands? Obviously my brain was unable to process the fact that it’s the highest point in southern Scotland and bigger than peaks like the Old Man of Coniston and Haycock. We set off with much enthusiasm, with the sun shining and truly lovely views along the glen to spur us on our way. The heather was even coming into bloom, which was an unexpected treat in mid-July.
The weather forecast had been for temperatures of 19-20 degrees celsius in the glen, and around 14 degrees celsius up on the hill, so we set off fairly early in order to get the lower level section out of the way before it warmed up too much. Even so, it felt not far off 20 degrees even at 8.30am, and I was very relieved to find this lower section of the walk pretty wet with a lot of water for the dogs to help keep them cool. The views were fantastic and felt very Lake District-y (which I suppose isn’t a surprise given its geographic proximity to Galloway), with a touch of Highland grandeur too.
We didn’t linger in any one spot for too long, as with great weather in summer comes great hordes of flying things. In fairness there weren’t many midges but we did come across a lot of horseflies. We were both wearing shorts and we were jumping out of our skin every time a fern or piece of grass touched our legs! The trail runs gradually uphill through the ‘forest zone’ for a mile or so on a clear track, before you cross into the ‘mountain zone’ and the incline steepens.
The climb up isn’t horrendously steep, but a kind of never ending relentless uphill. Before reaching The Merrick we first had to climb Benyellery, a slightly smaller hill at 719m, but which has great views in all directions – and a great place to stop for a snack and admire your surroundings. Re-energised by a packet of mini cheddars, we pressed on with the final climb up to the top of The Merrick: once you’ve summitted Benyellary, it’s really not too much further.
Reaching the top of The Merrick I was pleased to see a trig pillar, and slightly less pleased to see the swarm of horseflies guarding it. I decided against a dog on trig photo in the end: not worth being eaten alive by horseflies for! Carrying on a little past the trig point there’s a few smooth, flat rocks which make excellent seats for you to enjoy the panoramic views, which on a clear day include the Isle of Man and Northern Ireland.
Here we went our separate ways, with Sam continuing on the circular route from the book in search of the Grey Man of Merrick, and me returning back to the car the way we’d come along the Walkhighlands linear route. I’d checked the Bog Factor rating for Loch Valley before setting off and saw it was a 4/5 – not my cup of tea! Sam enjoyed the route but reported that it was completely pathless in many places and wet enough that it went through his boots fairly quickly. Quote: ‘You would’ve hated it’.
My return was much drier, sticking to the grassy path and pitched tracks we’d used for the ascent. The views were just as lovely on the return as they’d been on the way out, and coming back down there was a steady stream of people taking advantage of the beautiful weather to climb a hill (nowhere near as many people as you’d see on Helvellyn though). Somehow we managed to time it perfectly, with Sam’s route re-joining mine at the start of the ‘forest zone’ section and us both arriving at the junction at the same time. We couldn’t have planned it if we tried!
Dog friendly rating: 4/5. For a hill walk this is a great dog friendly option. For much of the forest zone you could probably let your dog off lead (make sure to check them for ticks after your walk), and 50% of the route has plenty of water, whether this is the path doubling as a (shallow) stream or pools of water just off the path. The route is stile free. Just be aware that the hill is grazed by sheep, so once you pass through the gate into the mountain zone, your dog should be under close control and put back on the lead around any livestock (or just on as a preventative measure if its recall isn’t 100% solid).
I’ll leave it there for this week, but if you’ve enjoyed reading this blog today, subscribe below so that you don’t miss part two, including all the information about where we stayed, what we did with the rest of the week and where we wanted to go to but ran out of time.
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