Faceplanting in molehills (Moncreiffe hill)

When I said that people feel perfectly entitled to regularly tell dog owners what to do it is no exaggeration. I wrote the piece about dogs only yesterday and along came an example, bang on cue. 

Upon Moncreiffe hill, a sturdy man rounded a corner.  He was kitted out in traditional country clothes and wielded a staff nearly as big as himself .   I, poleless, had just puffed my way up the steep southwesterly corner from where the path runs closest to the motorway.  It then rises in an easterly curve, doubling back on itself towards the lower hillfort, Moncreiffe (185m).

Path, south west corner

  I am usually alert to who might be coming along a path, partly for my own safety, mostly to ensure the dog is leashed early to save whoever is coming from getting a fright in case he barks, something he does quite often to strangers, especially men.  That is one of the reasons I take him into the less populated countryside.  But on this occasion the man appeared suddenly and I was catching my breath, head down as I trudged along the path.  I called the dog back.  Invariably I apologise to people about the barking and explain he is just very noisy.  Most seem fine.   Many understand rescue dogs and are sympathetic.  Some are even kind & will share biscuits, make friends and demonstrate not all the world's a threat.  Moreoever, I have found the dog to be a magnificent judge of character.  Still, while he is not big some do find him frightening.  It is actually he, traumatised by people and a fraction of their size who has far more reason to be afraid, but, being admirably, no coward, he will stand his ground and bark a warning.  

I had no opportunity to apologise to the chap with the big stick.  He told me in no uncertain terms I should keep the dog tethered.  Despite decades of experience, my usual response when confronted is shock.  With the ghost of a presence of mind usually lacking I countered that actually, I hadn't seen anyone in forty five minutes.  But he disagreed, grunted and dissatisfied and unswayed went his own way. 

I had actually been walking one of the steeper, smaller, less well trodden tracks.  As it turned out, in 90 minutes or 4.5 miles I was to see only this man and one couple near the car park.  The forest is large with few people compared to its size, particularly in winter as potholed routes to steep, icy car parks dissuade.  

Typical track in Moncreiffe forest

 Why do people do this?  I don't waylay joggers and tell them to keep their heavy breathing and spittle to themselves.  I don't stop the occasional family or group taking up the whole path and ask them for some space. I don't harangue the odd over-enthusiastic cyclist who bombs out on to a walking path where I am with my frail and elderly parents.  I get shocks and scares from all of these things but I don't accost the culprits.  I don't think most people do, so why do some become so officious and entitled over dogs?  Were I a man with a big stick I would not start giving a woman alone in a forest a piece of my mind.   

When people say what Perthites are known for compared to other cities:  self-righteousness; looking down on people, sniffiness, disapproval, is this what they mean?   I am reasonably immune to stares and dirty looks and have trained myself to not even notice them, yet still remember with astonishment those I used to get twelve or thirteen years simply for using a  donated bike trailer for transporting my kids to nursery along Tay Street.  What new-fangled idea is that? What does she think she's doing? Later, despite having got used to Perth's extraordinary whiteness I remember being horrified and yet not altogether surprised upon being told that there were racist remarks going around some parents in the playground about other parents from a different country.

I lived in London for five years, in Paris, in Edinburgh and generally in much more crowded places where tolerance is a necessity because of the greater diversity of the population.   But there are many places unused to diversity, moreover, habituated to a hierarachy and pecking order, where some people and indeed their families, may have been somewhere near the top for decades. Neither town, council, nor rural society is immune to getting used to privilege, bossing people about and disliking being answered back.  It is a huge fallacy that this is just an English thing.    

This man may have had a momentary scare from a barking dog of small to medium stature, for which I am deeply sorry, but does that mean one can go about making unreasonable demands that dogs should be permanently tethered in empty forests? And actually how often are men scared, walking?  As a female who usually walks alone I am always scared.  Not just of falls or getting lost, which applies to either sex, but of nutters who attack women. Just because I am female I have been terrified at worst, nervous at best, all my life of walking alone  - in the country, in cities and especially at night.  Luckily, I am six foot tall, sturdily built and reasonably fit.  I am delighted to also now have a very protective dog and sometimes poles and other accoutrements but the fact that I am aware of things I might have to hand to defend myself is indicative that I, like many women often do feel worried simply walking.

They shake you up, these encounters.  I console myself not with shouting back but later with fantasies of a post-apocalyptic Scotland in which free-roaming wolf-dog crosses have inherited the character assessment abilities of dogs like mine and tear the officious and judgemental apart leaving bloody trails and mangled body parts in the snow...

Engaged in such reveries, as I descended Moncreiffe fort I slipped on some ice, turned in mid air at the kind of angle I dreamt of as an eight-year-old wannabe gymnast and faceplanted into a molehill, luckily fresh.  I heard from childhood my father's voice,  amused, mocking: "God, punishing".  I ignored it as I spat out earth, rubbed soil out of my eye and salvaged my specs.  And who was there as I tested my limbs for breaks and sprains on top of the hill with an hour left of light?  A well-meaning knight holding out his staff at a safe two metre distance to let me haul myself up?  No.  But there was my hound rushing back to see what had happened; licking mud off my face, performing a dance more often seen at dinnertime and expressing an optimism and concern which, translated, impossibly into speech might have said:  "Are you OK? It's fine, you'll be fine, I'm here, and I can't help at all in any practical way whatsoever but I'm with you", the general effect being: who better, for moral support?  

In practice, carry spare specs. 

View over Bridge of Earn

Dogs and the countryside

I was provoked to write this after two incidents near a local farm a few days ago.  I don't want to single out this farm.  The things that happened here might have happened at any farm but they are illustrative of some of the issues regularly faced even by responsible walkers.  

When we are in the countryside, there are often notices about dogs.  Dogs must be kept on a lead (even in places where it makes no sense).  Dogs kill sheep.  Farmers will shoot your dog.  They are threatening and intimidating.  As a reminder I often hear shooting at close quarters around farms and estates.  I am usually alone and always find it alarming.  It is also depressing.  Not content with growing animals for slaughter, some of these people like to kill the wild things too. This is also sold to punters under the bluster of huntin' and fishin':  healthy, outdoor pursuits for Real Men.   The signs are designed to frighten and deter people from taking a dog out and if you insist then to never have it off the lead.

Most Ramblers groups won't accept dogs because the dog might chase livestock, they get under peoples' feet, some people don't like dogs etc. I feel lucky that I had support from Rambler's HQ and my own group who made an exception for my dog.  Ramblers Scotland then wrote an excellent piece in support of dogs on walks called  "A template for running dog -friendly walks".  Inspired by Jenny Mason of North Hertfordshire who runs a successful Ramblers group that welcomes dogs it was about the positives of walking with dogs and the actual lack of problems. Unfortunately, I can't find that it's been published online.   

Over the years I have noticed how few dogs I now see off the lead even in remote countryside. This does not necessarily mean there is a rise in responsible dog ownership.  It could equally mean people feel more intimidated and tether their dogs at all times to avoid any potential bother of being accused of poor dog management.  It now seems expected.  Perhaps it is due to a rise in rules in our overcrowded society and our extraordinary habit and inclination as a nation of unquestioningly obeying rules, or just the perception of a rule, no matter who imposes them or how sensible or even legal they are.  With rules comes suspicion of anyone who thinks about or questions things imposed upon them. 

 Around an eastern entrance / exit to Deuchny wood the track is plastered with these signs.  Although the track was well fenced and the farm distant I still felt the pressure to leash the dog.  I always do as we approach farms.  There are often free range chickens around, open doors into kitchens, there may be food on bird tables or other dog temptations.  It was lucky I did because there effectively was no fence around the sheep field.  

And this is my point.  Should farmers be threatening to shoot dogs and plaster signs everywhere insisting on leads in unreasonable places?  Or should they be properly fencing the products they fatten for slaughter while they continue the intensive, chemical-ridden, unsustainable practices that poison and exploit the land and our bodies and endanger our planet? And for what? For money and profit.   

Despite all this, should farmers have our sympathy?  Are they, in Perthshire, barely scratching out a precarious living?  I don't know but I doubt it because the farms I see are invariably fat, rich, privileged and luxurious: large, immaculate houses worth hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of pounds, with ponies in paddocks and huge, expensive cars and trucks.  Some have extra businesses like rental properties or bed and breakfast on the side.     They enjoy all this with splendid isolation, fine views and none of the attempted persecution they support of walkers through advertising the "We will shoot your dog" campaigns run by e.g. "Farmer's Guardian" magazine, whose creepy name has more than a hint of authoritarianism about it. 

We got a whiff of that farmyard smell.  It was Hill of Errol all over again where the dog refused to go round the outside of the farmyard and ran away, terrified, back the way we had come.  I had spent at least fifteen minutes coaxing, collaring and eventually carrying him up the slope past a barnfull of....bulls?  Cows?  Pigs?  No, just big fluffy sheep.  So I always wonder what that farmyard smell means to dogs.  It seems likely mine is just afraid of the animals there though I can't help wonder if the animals corralled in barns let off some smell of fear or misery to which some dogs react.  This rescue dog is, after all, afraid of just about everything:  all livestock including horses, also trains, traffic, trucks, machinery, bikes and many people. It is his sometime treatment by people that seems to have traumatised him.  

So again he pulled away back towards the wood and when I insisted on moving on, shook, bucked and eventually wriggled out of his collar and was off back the way we had come.  He stopped and stood waiting for me. Again, I cajoled and caught him with treats and carried him, a heavy, squirming, muddy, unwieldy, frightened armful, past view of the sheep after which his fear disappeared and he walked beside me.  We passed the house and reached the road junction.  I turned right towards the western side of Deuchny hill but things looked different in the snow and I soon realised I seemed to be heading towards another farm building instead of being on the road I had expected.  As I checked the map two well built, fierce farm collies tore out of the farmyard and down the track towards us, barking and snapping. My dog flattened his ears, looking fearful then bucked his way out of the collar again.  Without touching the dogs I kept our attackers at bay with the walking poles for which I was thankful.  Mine stood looking awkward, then started a sort of hurried, sidelong trot away through the farmyard. I thought of all the dog temptations there then saw another open field and wondered if this was the day I was going to discover he was a bizarrely fearful sheep-chaser.  I waited for the bang of the terminal shot as I hurried after him.  But oh the relief.  There he was, standing at a safe distance, simply waiting for me as usual on the other side of the farmyard away from the vicious dogs.  Again, there was no getting him back through the yard but there was no other choice.  Once more I heaved him up into my arms and carried him through in two goes.  Someone had obviously thought better of their animals attacking walkers because while I saw and heard no-one, the collies did not reappear. 

The path for walkers in Scotland is still far from easy.  Despite the Land Reform Act many farms, estates and private households still 

- block land access 

- fail to keep their animals properly fenced

-  intimidate walkers, especially walkers with dogs, with signs and loose, aggressive animals and try to normalise the idea that the only dogs that should be off the lead in the countryside are farm dogs.  

Additionally, many stiles and cattle grids are impassable to dogs. 

 Landowners, some of whom have held land for centuries, still easily have the upper hand.  

I end though with a different example.  Sheep often wonder on Kirkton hill, south of Perth.  However, the local farmer has created a good alternative route to this hill avoiding livestock and signposted it. The path though rough, rocky and muddy is now well-walked.  It has also been planted with young native trees and affords excellent views over the ox-bow lake on the Earn. 

Kirkton hill

So while most farmers still make exploitative, inefficient use of the land by farming animals and some will do anything to stop you setting foot on "their" land, some are better than others.

Reedbeds of the Tay (Powgavie to Templehall)

The Tay reedbeds near Powgavie

 

Purple paths designated "core" by Perth and Kinross Council 

My route, anticlockwise from A, on the road just south of Powgavie

There are other photos of this walk on Instagram.  

This walk is in the Carse of Gowrie which is essentially the western side of the river Tay's floodplain between Perth and Dundee.  It is a flat, fertile zone famous for soft fruit.  It extends westwards for four or five miles until it reaches some low hills, the Braes of the Carse.  

Dundee, the Carse and even Blairgowrie receive significantly more sunshine than Perth which, according to Anchor Pumps, is number 7 in the UK's top ten greyest cities. I explore the Carse quite often because it's not far and even an hour or two of sunshine, even a streak of blue sky can tranform a day for me in the long dark Scottish winters.  I rarely meet people there.  

The Errol circular aside, none of the Perthshire's most well-known walks are in the Carse.  Given its sunshine and its braes, this is a shame. Another issue is that there are few obviously circular walks on core paths.  Most walkers I know or meet like to do a circular rather than a linear walk.  

I'd been to scout parking at Powgavie before Christmas & walked a field's length east.  I wanted to walk up to Templehall this time and back on a circular route.

Unusually, the promised sun on this day did not materialise, but the day was still and the Tay was like glass.  It was very peaceful.  This walk is all about big skies, miles of reedbeds, fine views of the Fife coast, the Braes of the Carse and the Sidlaws.  I could even make out buildings in Dundee and the bridge across the Tay.  I heard deer on the reedbed fringe below the track, then watched the white rump of an elegant roe disappear ahead of me.  The reedbeds are famous for rare birds.  Being no ornithologist and focused on the route I noticed that hedgerow birds were abundant even on this chilly day, saw a heron, greylag geese and heard the high, whistling call of redshank.  Both times I've been here beside the Tay I have met no-one. 

Parking is often the main issue I find in the Carse and again I found no easy parking at Powgavie nor around Templehall which is the other end of this walk shown above. I drove past Powgavie farm and parked on the fairly wide verge some distance from where the road ends (at a house).  I am no fan of verge parking and rarely do it but could find no other options.  When a core path is not near a village and has no designated parking what else are you supposed to do?  Because of parking and access issues on core paths themselves I have sometimes wondered if the creation of some of them is more an administrative tickbox exercise than a walking reality. 

My (obvious) rules of thumb for verge parking are:

- don't block field entrances

- don't inconvenience residents 

- could a fire engine get past?

 There were no green core path signposts on any of this walk. 

  

Per a zoomed view of the core path on the interactive map, it lies just north of the fence line.  Reassuringly, the field has not been ploughed right to the hedge.

However, this would be a dull walk with views of the reeds and the river blocked by a hedge.  This walk is all about the views on the riparian side of the hedge and they are mostly on this first section.  I wouldn't bother doing this walk just to walk along the field. 

At the end of the paddock adjoining the house, people before me had clearly gone through the middle of a relatively easy fence to get to a faint path on the other side of the hedge where the views are.   Obviously having to cross the fence to walk the path with the views is not ideal.

 

At about the end of the first field is a very tricky stile.  The tall post to help you get up is loose and can't be used as such which makes mounting the stile more difficult than it looks.  Another post is broken, the whole thing is rickety and dangerously festooned with barbed wire and rusty nails.  It was narrow for the dog to squeeze through the tearing spikes of that cruel invention that is so liberally and viciously cast right across our countryside.  I thought I was reasonably fit but it wasn't easy to surmount.  If you have hip or similar mobility problems, I think your chances of having to return are high. 

Soon there is a small burn.  The choice is a marshy crossing or to clamber down quite a steep, rocky bank.  I took the latter option.  Again, with any mobility issues this would be tricky.  

Thereafter, just below Kingston farm, the "core path" is along the field edge.  Only, there is no path visible and the field is sown right to the edge of the bank leading down to the reed beds.  

 A little further at an attractive bend there are one or two magnificent ?Scots pine trees.  Views are regained.  But the rest of the walk is flat, treeless, uninteresting and unwelcoming (see below) and has a significant section of  road.  If I walked by the reedbeds again, I would probably turn back at this tree. 

     

Along the field edge was slow going, even on the hard ground so I moved on to some vehicle tracks a little further in.  

The field ends at a gate. Go through this to find a dog-legged cinder track. This passes some paddocks, then some houses. At the red dot I noticed an incorrect sign right on the core path: "No public right of way". It is also illegal to place clearly deterrent notices like this.  

On the other side of the track another sign indicates who lives here 

There is then a long straight road section back.  It is marked on OS maps with green dots which according to the OS means "legally protected routes that the public may use by foot". I'm not sure what that means for a walker on the ground but the fact is the road is very fast.  There were one or two careful and considerate drivers but most drove with indifference to walkers and too quickly.  A couple of boys drove at motorway speeds.  

A woman walking ahead of me eventually turned around and walked back. I hoped this wasn't all she had for a regular walk.  I asked if she knew about the no public access sign. She didn't and said she had always been put off from walking there by the sign. This will almost certainly be the case for most people. I told her about the core path and the online interactive map. 

Next is a left turn down to Kingston farm and a level crossing which is not locked. From there it is a barren, flat & treeless return to Powgavie. 

Powgavie farm has as a weirdly crenellated silo for which I have no explanation.  According to Maurice Fleming's The Sidlaws: Tales, Traditions and Ballads, Powgavie at one time had a shapeshifting witch called Jenny Gairie.  Did she live in the atmospheric and apparently abandoned cottage opposite the farm...? 

Update: 12.03.21 - I have reported the sign issue to one of those representing walkers on the The Perth & Kinross Outdoor Access Forum.

Perth and Kinross: Land access issues & a few resources for walking and hiking.

Screenshot of Perth and Kinross council's core paths online interactive map 

The issues I, as a walker, encounter often on countryside core paths in my area are nothing so rarefied as the grouse moors mentioned in the last post although I regularly encounter shooting or the results of it, on estates and around farms - often closer than I'd like.  More commonly the issues are: 

- the mapped path doesn't exist 

- locked gates

 - paths blocked by fences

 - access is difficult (e.g. only over a cattle grid, when you have a dog; ladders to climb, high or broken stiles etc)

 - signs saying no public access  / no right of way / private garden (when it isn't)

- missing bridges

These issues are more likely and more widespread on paths that are not designated "core".  

To a lesser extent I find signage or waymarking that is missing or confusing.  In my area green signposts indicate core paths and small waymarking arrows on posts indicate various colour-coded trails.  That said the region of Perth and Kinross is very large and on balance I am impressed  with the availability and quality of signage.

When planning walks, the resource I probably use most often is the Perth and Kinross core paths plan, including a clickable map.  An interactive map of national core paths is hosted by Scottish Natural Heritage.  On the ground, I use A4 printed versions of the same map (less unwieldy than a foldable map) and for convenience, I also have a subscription with the online OS maps app though unfortunately, these do not yet show core paths. 

When exploring more well-known walks, I most often use the well-known walkhighlands website and the Perth and Kinross Countryside walks leaflets by area online and their lists of seasonal walks for autumn, winter, spring and summer.  

There is scope for another post sometime on the many other walk resources. 

Land access and ownership in Scotland

 

Game larder on a shooting estate

Despite the good intentions behind September's post, nothing happened here.  Our good friends moved to Spain and set up an Instagram account to keep in touch with family and friends.  So instead of sharing the great places in Perthshire that we were visitingvia a blog, I joined the throng and did the same.  Maybe I wanted to believe I could keep up with people who were born after the concept of an "app" was born,  I was already grown up when the internet started to be used by ordinary people.  Maybe an app would just be quicker.   

But every week I come across land access issues so have decided to describe them here for those interested in land access in this area and as both record for myself and for anyone in the future interested in how land access in and around Perth and Kinross was in e.g. 2021 as experienced by an ordinary walker.

Anyone who walks in the countryside regularly finds themselves wondering where they can and can't walk.  The far-reaching effects of the Scottish Land Reform Act (2003) are described at Scotways, with explanations or links to key concepts like rights of access, core paths and local access forums. 

The subjects of access rights and land ownership are inextricably linked.  Walkers in Scotland have more freedom  than in England, where the limited access rights are covered in a beautifully illustrated work by Nick Hayes:  The Book of Trespass (2020).   

There were two interesting articles in the Guardian (2019) on land ownership.  "Half of England is owned by less than 1% of the population". The article on Scotland covers the Scottish Land Commission's report on land ownership.  Discussion of land ownership and access in Scotland often runs into discussions about grouse moors which cover 15% of the land.  This was topical recently under renewed consideration of a controversial licensing scheme.  Raptor persecution linked to grouse moors is an ongoing problem.  The RSPB has an introduction to the subject of grouse moors.  Campaigners against grouse moors released this spoof video in October 2020.