A romp over Rinnes
Register for free to read more of the latest local news. It's easy and will only take a moment.
THE weather doesn’t seem to be able to decide on a season at the moment, making it hard to plan in advance where to go.
One day the hills are clad in heather and bathed in sunshine, the next covered in snow.
Luckily the day I headed up Ben Rinnes was of the sunny variety, but despite the strong sunshine the windchill prompted me to pack an extra layer.
At 2,759ft, Ben Rinnes stands as a prominent Speyside landmark and is rightly a popular route. The views from the top are spectacular, and this run takes you past the summit and along the ridge to explore the quieter side of the hill.
It’s a tough start to the run – there’s no easy warm-up as the path starts straight up from the car park.
It wasn’t until I turned the first corner of the track out of the wind that I realised the strength of the late April sun and was glad of the last-minute application of sun cream.
The wide track continues up, levelling off for a brief respite on Roy’s Hill. From here the track is distinct to the summit.
Between the twists of the new built path, the old eroded way is still visible heading straight up the ridge.
The view across Glen Rinnes to the Ladder Hills begins to open up to the east. To the west, the slowly turning blades of wind farms caught both the sun and my eye.
As the path steepened again the smell of burnt heather and peat was strong in the air. A large fire here a couple of weeks before blackened the top section of the hill. A fortnight on, the scent was more fragrant than acrid.
I passed a couple of walkers heading down, their cheeks rosy from the invigorating wind, and looked up from my exertions just long enough to spot a ptarmigan amongst the rocks.
There is a colony of these high mountain birds resident around the summit and they recklessly give their positions away with distinctive cries.
After a last push the summit tor came into view and I leapt quickly up the rocks to soak in the scene from the trig point.
Even on an average day you can see from the Cairngorms round to the north side of the Moray Firth, while in the east, Bennachie is easily recognisable.
From the summit I headed north-west on the broad track along the ridge. Despite the rocky appearance it’s good, fast running so remember to watch out for a path leading off to the right after about half a kilometre.
This heads down the hillside towards a group of tors, the good going underfoot giving opportunities to leap peat banks and pick up speed. The rocks are soon reached and make a good rest stop. I couldn’t resist a quick scramble on the sticky granite.
I followed the path as it threaded its way through the first group of tors, making sure to keep to the left of a lower outcrop, taking the path that runs diagonally along the side of the hill. It’s steep at first and then levels out.
Don’t be tempted to cut straight down the hill to the return track now visible below. This shortcut has only ever ended in a battle through tussocky heather or one of those bogs so steep you wouldn’t believe it could exist until you’ve spent time in the Scottish hills.
The path crosses several burns and becomes faint at times, but is always just visible ahead, traversing the shoulder of Baby’s Hill. Once your feet are thoroughly muddy the path enters the edge of a dry peat hag and soon joins a Land Rover track. Follow it down the hill until it gets to a gate at the bottom and turn right.
Here I paused to enjoy the gorse along the side of the path, the sweet scent fitting the brightly coloured bushes that have suddenly rejuvenated brown and parched hillsides and woods.
It’s now a case of following the undulating and often wet track for 4km back round the base of the hill.
I soon gave up avoiding the puddles and the tranquillity of the glen was punctuated by my exclamations of amusement and frustration as my legs disappeared up to the shin.
It was still enjoyable, although I’m not sure how the couple I met coming the other way fared as they attempted to keep their boots in a reasonably dry state.
The track joins the road after one final puddle so large there’s a distinct path around it. Go through the gate and turn right along the tarmac to return to the car park.
As I stretched, another couple of runners arrived and headed straight up the track, acknowledging walkers returning to the car park. I contemplated the sharp contrast between the friendly hill camaraderie on the busy tourist track and the quiet solitude amongst the tors, not a kilometre down the ridge.
You often don’t need to go that far off the beaten track to discover a different side of our landscape.
