Queensberry Rules?

Myself, The Lovely Fiona and Dougal the Labrador went to Dumfriesshire at the weekend with a mind to do some walking in the Lowther Hills. We’ve walked in the hills around Durisdeer many times, but decided it was time to broaden our horizons. I recalled James at Backpackingbongos extolling the virtues of Queensberry and the nearby bothy at Burleywhag. On consulting Ronald Turnbull’s excellent guidebook to the area, I was convinced of its merits – especially as it provides unrivalled views across the Southern Uplands and across the border to the Cheviots and the Lakeland Fells.

Queensberry at 697 metres is highest of the Lowther Hills and qualifies as a Marilyn, a Donald and a Graham for collecting purposes. It was named many years ago for the Marquess of Queensberry – the local landowner – who in the self-agrandising manner that is so unappealing in the rich and powerful, had the biggest hill in the locale adorned with his pompous moniker. Still, I don’t want to sound bitter.

Saturday morning dawned a little murky, but we weren’t going to use that as an excuse to stay at home. We drove through the fine little market town of Thornhill then followed the sinuous single track road winding its way beneath the whale-backed Lowther fells. We parked up at the small collection of farm buildings and houses comprising Mitchellslacks and set off along the path leading out along the Capel Burn. We noticed a couple of other cars parked up, including a stereotypical Mazda boyracermobile with ‘aerodynamic’ foil and gold hub caps. I’ll let you in on one of my little prejudices: I see someone driving one of these, I instantly, shamefully, jump to the conclusion that they must be a complete twat. It looked  somewhat out of context here, deep in rural Dumfriesshire and I began to wonder if it’s occupants might have headed off to nearby Burleywhag bothy for a weekend of getting wankered. Hmm. Burleywhag is a short enough walk for even the most callow and recalcitrant youth to manage. There has been a problem in recent years with people using bothies – especially in the Southern Uplands – for drinking and drug-taking benders, usually trashing the place in the process. There have been some horror stories of walkers turning up at a bothy off the hill to find the place taken over by lairy hooligans. Backhill of the Bush being the worst example.

Anyway, I filed my concerns away for the time being to concentrate on the business of route finding. We had decided to approach Queensbury via the summit of Wee Queensberry (512m) and so left the main track by The Law, a small rounded hill standing sentinel at the mouth of the glen. In truth the walk up Wee Queensberry was a bit of a ball-ache as the ground is very tussocky, but we gamely battered our way up the flank of the hill looking on to the cloud-shrouded summit of Queensberry. It was looking like those famous views might elude us on this occasion.

There were plenty sheep around so Dougal had remained on the leash, his interest was definitely piqued though. When descending from the summit of Wee Queensberry, I was stepping gingerly sideways down a slippery slope when several woolies were startled up nearby. They ran and Dougal tore off in pursuit, wrenching the leash from my hand. My hold must have been relaxed while concentrating on staying upright. I bellowed after him and tumbled down the slope in time to see him in pursuit of a lone sheep. ‘Oh fuck’ I thought. Dougal had soon caught up with the sheep and, game over, he trotted proudly back towards us. He stopped twenty yards short and sat down with an audible gulp when he clocked our expressions. Fiona called him and he came bounding back, reassured that he wasn’t in trouble. Tricky. He came back, so should you tell him off? He showed no intent to have a go at the sheep, but another time? I felt that this was a lucky escape and not a scenario I want to repeat. I made a series of displeased noises and gestures and we continued on our way – the Hideous Mutt’s leash firmly in TLF’s iron grip.

There’s no way of dressing it up, the climb up the tussocky flank of Queensberry in the murk was very dull indeed. Even Dougal’s tail dropped and he mooched along like a sulky teenager.

The only relief from the tedious uphill slog was the occasional picturesque cairn. Ronald Turnbull advances the theory that the cairns dotted around these parts were built by shepherds who, having finished their work early would build these cairns rather than return to the farm where they’d be given another job, which would detain them after hours.

Whatever their provenance, I thought they were reminiscent of Andy Goldsworthy’s cairns – perhaps the shepherds’ cairns had inspired him? After all, Mr G lives in these parts and several of his sculptural works are dotted around the environs, like this cairn at Penpont:

It was so murky on Queensberry that I couldn’t be bothered to take a picture. We had planned to do a horseshoe taking in Penbreck and Earncraig Hill from Queensberry, but decided that in the conditions we’d just bail out and descend to the glen to have our sandwiches at the bothy. We took a bearing and descended west through the murk.

As is often the case, when you make a descision about your route due to conditions, the murk lifts, the rain goes off and the sun shines as soon as it’s too late for you to change your mind. While this wasn’t exactly the case, when we emerged from beneath the murk, we could see that our putative route across Penbreck and Earncraig was clag-free. Ho-hum. 

It was too late to suggest contouring around to Penbreck to Fiona who was in full ‘lunch mode’ by now. We picked a good line down to the glen and soon Burleywhag was in our sights.

As we drew close we saw a figure emerge from the bothy to have a wee. I suddenly remembered the boyracermobile! Bugger. Would the bothy be full of skanky louts trashing the place and, therefore, would I have to tick them off in my slightly-posh-sounding (I really am not) Home Counties accent, thereby making myself a target for their opprobrium and ridicule?

Two other figures emerged, pulling on rucksacks. Phew! They were leaving – how about that for timing? If the place was a mess I could rail manfully at their despicable behaviour with ony TLF and Dougal as my audience. We met the three lads as they crossed the burn on a rickety bridge. They looked shocking. Pale, puffy-eyed, shifty and – worse of all – one of them was wearing a Rangers shirt. They’d obviously had a bit of a night at the hooligan juice. One of them was pulling a trolley(!) which clinked and clanked with empty bottles and tins. Hmm, Neds with a conscience? ‘Hiya, the stove should still be warm for youse’, announced the one member of the party who still looked capable of speech. We watched them trudge off down the squelchy path and steeled ourselves for a look inside. It was immaculate.

There you go, there’s a parable in there somewhere.

Dougal enjoys the warmth of the stove in the immaculately tidy bothy, so thoughtfully and considerately looked after by the nice young people:

We had our sandwiches and headed off down the path back to Mitchellslacks. On the way we picked up a series of tins, bottles, batteries and packets that was obviously leaking from the lads’ rubbish trolley, but we agreed that it was the thought that counts. 

Next morning, there was a wonderful mist clinging to the valley floor and the low sun lit the trees in golden hues. It looked the more promising day by far. We had decided to drive up the glen along the Scaur Water, surely one of the loveliest places on the entire planet.

We parked up by Glenmanna and enjoyed the rare experience of a path marked with a signpost. We followed the track road through Glenmanna Farm and out along the Glenmanna Burn before climbing along the flank of Peat Craigs on an actual path! 

Searchlight beams of sunshine arrowed through the fast moving clouds, lighting up the valley floor behind us. 

Up onto Peat Hill (455m), ATV tracks eased our path through the tussocky moor grass. Soon we were out along the broad ridge with a wonderful vista of the Nithsdale, Lowther and Carsphairn Hills around us (I think that’s right, James?!).

What a wonderful day it was turning into. Dougal certainly thought so when an inviting lochan suddenly appeared near the summit of White Knowe (463m). Being a Labrador he can’t just jump into every body of water that presents itself, no, he has to retrieve something that’s thrown into the body of water for that express purpose. Other than my lunch there was nothing to hand. Hmm. I soon found a fossilised sheep turd and threw that in.

Dougal needed no further inducement and diligently retrieved the rehydrated turd from the lochan. Good boy!

Luckily for this wee frog, the Hideous Mutt completely overlooked him. Lucky for me too as I didn’t fancy trying to extract half-chewed frog from his jaws.

We continued on our way following the line of a fence along to Ox Hill (472m). The ground had become very squelchy indeed and was largely composed of football-sized tussocks.

Still, the views were grand and we didn’t mind too much. Or rather I didn’t mind too much, TLF and Dougal were looking pensive and not least because lunch stop spots weren’t presenting themselves in abundance.

I chose to ignore their menancing glances in favour of battering on across the picturesquely named Yellow Mire following the fence to the summits of Countam (476m), Fingland Shoulder (486m) and then Blackcraig Hill (500m). Soon enough we were beginning to descend towards Dalzean Snout, with fine views as far as the radar station and masts on the summits of Lowther Hill and Green Lowther to the north.

Arriving above Glenmanna Burn once again we made a steep traversing descent to the floor of the glen and found the perfect picnic spot at some rocks by the side of the lovely wee burn. This cheered TLF and Dougal up immensely and we were soon walking out along the burn to the farm and so back to the car.

It was an excellent outing, but we enjoyed perfect conditions. In murk, wind or rain – or any combination of the above it would make for a hellish expedition. Just so you know.


18 responses

    • Hey Paul

      Funnily enough I was just thinking about you today, wondering what you were up to so I’ve just popped over to your site. Enjoyed Kitten Rescue at Dracula Castle and yes, Putyka does look like he should be patrolling the corridors of Bran Castle…
      Dougal will be a year old next week. We’ll be staying in some bothies in the hinterlands of Sutherland so we’ll have to remember to pack a candle to stick in his chow…


  1. The pictures look very enticing, just my kind of scenery! Can’t wait to get up there this weekend for the week. We were setting off Friday morning, but I’ve been asked to work now, so it’ll be Friday evening instead – we’ll probably wild camp half way up. Now Tilly, even being a Labrador – will dive into any body of water without something to retrieve. She worries me sometimes. I have visions of her jumping into somewhere she can’t get out of! And I’m sure there can’t be a dog owner on the planet who hasn’t had a sheep moment or two. Dixie’s nearly always on the lead. I have to be sure there’s no sheep at all within about a mile radius before I let her off. Tilly’s not too bad these days. It is possible to go past nearby sheep without her charging off, but if she thinks you’re not watching she’ll try. However, she is generally very good now at coming back as soon as you shout, but then she is 2 years old, soon to be 3. Nearly all grown up!

    • Hello Chrissie

      I’m exceptionally alert to the ‘sheep issue’ just now as myself and James saw a sheep killed by two dogs when we were walking in Wales recently with Dougal and Reuben:

      It really is just a game to Dougal, but can you be sure the switch wouldn’t flip given the wrong circumstance?. I want to train Dougal to ignore sheep, but until I succeed, I’m not taking chances. I don’t want him shot. Helplessly watching the hideous, protracted killing of the sheep is also something I’d rather not see again.

      We’ve been trying to brainwash Dougal with a wee rhyme:

      Sheep are boring
      Sheep are dull
      If you chase them
      You’re a numbskull

      But, as you can imagine, he just looks at us blankly. What part of the SUW are you planning to walk?

      • I’ve just said the rhyme to our two and Dixie’s just rolled her eyes and told me to get lost! She once dived after a sheep which we hadn’t spotted, got it down on the floor, then just stood there with her head pushed against it wondering what she was supposed to do next. Thank goodness she didn’t work it out, but just stayed there until Geoff grabbed her and dragged her back. She definitely has a switch in her brain which makes her go deaf when sheep are around.
        As for the SUW next week, we’re hoping to walk from the west coast to the car park at Buchan (the east end of Loch Trool). I’ve planned for this to take us four days as Dixie and I don’t generally do massive mileages any more. She’s an extremely fit dog, but nevertheless 10 years old (very nearly) is already quite an age for a boxer and I’ve found that 10-12 miles a day is plenty for her now. Hubby should be meeting us each night in the campervan for this section. He does B&B and breakfast for a very reasonable rate. Not sure when we’ll get back up to Scotland to continue the SUW after this break, but there’s quite a lot of backpacking in my plans for future sections so they’ll have to be done out of midge season!

  2. Have a great time and I hope the weather is kind to you. Myself and James are walking with the dogs in Sutherland next week and I’m too scared to look at the weather forecasts! Look forward to reading your write up, Chrissie.

  3. Aye..I try not to be judgemental on bothy neds but it is hard..! Have had a few experiences of sharing bothies with them in the Southern Uplands especially at Shiel of Castlemaddy.Sadly this has been closed due to their shenanigans along with Backhill of Bush.Still,at least the Burleywhag Posse did try 🙂

    Being a bit of a skinflint myself I`ve only been up Queensberry and into Burleywhag from the the north.Saves a load of petrol money 🙂

    I reckon,with a decent pair of binoculars,I could have seen you on Sunday. Bob and I were enjoying the delights of the Glen Afton hills .My map indicates I was only 4 miles away from you when I was on Blacklorg Hill.

    I`m in total agreement with your sentiments with regard to the Scaur Water….one of the most peaceful and beautiful places south of the Central Belt.There used to be some hidden pieces of Andy Goldsworthys work along the side of the stream in the lower reaches.Can also highly recommend the bike run from Polskeoch bothy down to Penpont for those who don`t like too pedal too much 🙂

    • Despite your often rude and contoversial comments Alex, I believe in free speech so I’m not banning anyone except Tories, religious fruitcakes, Daily Mail readers, Manchester United supporters, people who watch the X Factor, Audi drivers………

  4. How about that! I pointed out Blacklorg and Blackcraig to TLF as we’d been along there earlier this year. AND we talked about doing the bike ride up Glencairn over to Polskeoch and down the Scaur at the same time.

    Mr G lives near Penpont, seen him in the butchers in Thornhill a couple of times (Renicks, top, top butcher). He does a lot of his ephemeral pieces with leaves, twigs and the like on the Scaur Water.

    At least bothy Neds talk about stuff other than hills and bleeding ‘kit’.

  5. Ooo I do like the rolling Lowther hills. Little know fact for you, did you know that the range was named after the Marquess of Queensberry’s favourite shoe, the loafer? Something got lost in the translation and the spelling changed.

    Anyway lets hope that Reuben can help make Dougal a better citizen, he has got a series of evening bothy lectures lined up for him next week. Lets hope for a ned free week eh? Not that I ever judge a book by its cover.

    About sounding slightly posh sounding. After talking to you on the phone last week I did not realise that Corrina was listening in. She did remark that you sounded incredibly well spoken. I did stick up for you however by saying that you are as rough as buggery in the flesh.

    Day 6 of no smoking today. My boss told me I was argumentative this afternoon………

  6. Thanks for the support. Hamish. What with your new nicotine withdrawal-related argumentative streak and your dog given to delivering in-bothy citizenship lectures I think we’ll just stay at home and boil our heids instead…

    The Loafer Hills!? The Brogue Fells? The Stiletto Ridge? The Doc Marten Range? The Carp(et slipper)athians? I’ll stop there, shall I?

  7. Hi Pete, nice write up, Southern Uplands are an area I know little of so nice to see what they are like. One of the reasons I tend to avoid bothies are for the reasons you describe. Dougal, like Reuben continues to be the star of the blog. You and TLF are just in supporting roles now. Reflection of the times 🙂

  8. Hi Pete,
    I am a third year student from the University of Sussex and am producing a short documentary piece on the Sussex Downs. I have comes across your mountain biking novel and plan to cycle the South Downs Way in 2 days over December. I would love to have a chat with you and arrange an video interview if possible? Could you please contact me via email if you are interested.

    Kindest Regards,


    • Hello Colingers

      Bit of a clue in the handle there? Snobbery if you like, but I’d say it’s my opinion formed from a decade living in Glasgow. Congrats on the title.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s