Galloway hills

Peaks: Benyellary (719), The Merrick (843)
Area: Galloway, Southern Uplands
It seems strange that circumstances have never brought me to Galloway. It ticks lots of my boxes: a quirky and unusual area, a distinctive genius loci, interesting cultural snippets, wild mountain landscapes. There's nothing bland about Galloway, and today we left Creetown fairly early to drive into a deserted Glen Trool. If anything, the weather was worse than yesterday evening: steady, driving rain, and a cloudbase virtually down to the car park. Our initial plan had been the hugely ambitious Ring of Fire, which takes a giant loop round the range. In the conditions, that seemed unlikely, but the start - up Merrick from Glen Trool - seemed a sensible use of time, as it's the highest peak (in the whole Southern Uplands, actually) and by far the most popular objective with a well-trodden path. This skirts the Buchan Burn initially, an atmospheric tumbling river in these conditions. Good running through the mist and rain - very wet underfoot - to the Culsharg bothy. Then up steeply through a plantation to gain the open moor above. A steady haul gains the top of Benyellary, rather bleak in these circumstances with a distinct chill in the wet and windy air. We were now in the Range of the Awful Hand, running along the well-defined ridge ('the Neive of the Spit') which eventually heads up broad moorland to the Merrick. It was very grim up here, which was a real shame as it meant that a massive downgrading of plans was necessary. We ran back to Glen Trool via a food break in the recently re-roofed bothy, and then extended the day the way the conditions dictated: along the clearly defined and relatively sheltered Southern Uplands way. This did at least allow us to penetrate the Galloway interior, albeit in a sanitised way. Atmospheric native woodland with rushing torrents gives way to open moorland (and a goshawk sighting) with views up to the Rig of the Jarkness and other superbly named features (Galloway has perhaps the most evocative names in the UK with its historic blend of languages presumably a contributory factor). The route climbs gradually to a pass, after which Loch Dee is revealed, powerfully gloomy in these conditions, with the cloudbase just above and tree-covered islands just emerging from the mist. We ran all the way to the White Laggan bothy after which I began to feel the pace (perhaps still recovering from last week's ultra) so we went our separate ways back to Glen Trool. Peter went over the hills, I contented myself with a jog back along the lower route: still a good 17-18 mile day.