Broad Cairn was the first Munro I ever climbed…almost. It was many years past, when my son was eleven and raring to go, that we took it into our heads to do a motor cycle run from my then home in Forfar, to Braedownie, Glen Clova. Although I’d walked over a few hills in and around Angus and Perthshire, I’d never taken them seriously and I certainly hadn’t heard the term, ‘Munro’.
And there we were, midday at a Glen Doll we only really knew from family picnics, hours to spare and adventure in our hearts. We got as far as the boulder field just shy of Broad Cairn’s summit when a mist rolled down upon us. I got scared! I had a map but not a compass; even had I one I’d have had no idea how to use it. We turned tail and scurried down to safety.
I’ve been to Broad Cairn and its neighbours many times since; it has become an old favourite. In fact the first time I reached its summit cairn, again with my son, I went via Jock’s Road. That morning we met two young ladies en route to Tolmount and Tom Buidhe; when we told them where we were headed they smiled and assured us that we’d like Broad Cairn. They were right. We arrived in a thick mist that gave the summit granite tors a Mars like ambience. Delicious!
Now it was young David’s turn. He hadn’t been on a hill for some time and asked me to take him to a gentle Munro; Broad Cairn fitted the bill to perfection.
See this Thursday’s Piper for the full story...