Winter wonderland on the John Buchan Way
December 12 is always a significant date for me, it’s my birthday. I was born in 1981 during a notable and record breaking cold winter. Indeed, it was the coldest winter of the 20th century, and the temperate of -27.2 c recorded at Braemar feels unlikely to ever be broken as the planet gets warmer. My folks couldn’t get water to boil and heat my milk bottles, as all the pipes were frozen. 41 years on and we have been hit with another deep freeze, admittedly on a smaller scale but still bitingly cold, with snow, ice and freezing fog on the menu. This cold snap coinciding as it did with my birthday, a rare child free annual leave day and a bluebird sky meant it was time to break out the hiking boots. I decided to follow the John Buchan Way, a 13 mile linear trail from Broughton to Peebles. The issue with linear walks is getting to the trailhead, but thankfully you can get buses out to Broughton and the timing worked well - leaving Innerleithen at 0720 and arriving at Broughton an hour or so later. What didn’t work so well was the heating on the bus - by the time I got to Broughton I thought my feet had frozen solid, thankfully they thawed a wee bit as I got moving.
Waiting for the bus in Peebles, well below freezing 🥶
The journey to Broughton from Peebles is one I’ve done countless times in the car but on a snowy day like today it took on a more epic feel. It also helped that I was on a bus so my imagination could run wild, unrestrained by such mundane practicalities as changing gears or checking blind spots. The Meldon Hills looked bigger and more rugged cloaked in white, and the larger hills at the gateway to Manor Valley took on an Alpine feel among the glistening ice and freezing fog. As we left the Lyne and crossed back into Tweeddale it was impossible not to feel festive as large country houses with twinkling lights dotted the snowy landscape in the pre sunrise light, illuminated by a large moon on the wane. By the time we got to Drumelzier and its chocolate box cottages you would not have been surprised to see Kate Winslet hanging up a wreath, such was the festive scene and my giddiness at the upcoming hike.
A big, cold dose of reality hit when the bus deposited me at Broughton. Freezing, Baltic, cauld, starvation, bitter, raw - you name it. I found out later that Hartree, just a couple of miles from Broughton, was among the coldest spots in Scotland overnight - I could well believe it. I didn’t hang about to admire this quaint wee village which acts as a sort of border land between Peeblesshire and Lanarkshire; rapid, energetic movement seemed to be the answer on a day like this.
Broughton Place, a 1930’s house near the start of the trail
The walk was a challenge, definitely a bit tougher in the snow. You head into the Broughton Heights range, a sort of mini Pentlands. They have a desolate beauty, for sure, but intensely managed mainly for sheep so as a result there is a lack of natural trees - a fairly common theme across Peeblesshire. Eventually I crossed from Broughton Heights to Stobo Hope Head, the new valley equally as devoid of both trees and people. I followed two intrepid tyre tracks, a pair of brave mountain bikers having blazed the trail through the snow the day before.
Eventually I made it to Stobo, crossing both the road and river Tweed before the energy sapping climb from Easter Dawyck across to The Glack. By this point the mountain bikers had sensibly bailed so it was only cloven tracks to follow. A group of mean looking cows, including a big bull, took a bit too keen an interest in this crazy human so a rather undignified, but thankfully unwitnessed, loup across a snow covered dyke was required. Cows generally don’t bother me when out and about, and you meet plenty of them, but a big bull with his girls? Sod that. “Innerleithen man trampled to death on his birthday by randy bull” is a headline I didn’t really fancy appearing in Friday’s Peeblesshire News.
From The Glack it was a couple of miles of road walking before heading up to the saddle of Cademuir Hill. There’s plenty of interest on this twin topped hill but the John Buchan Way resolutely avoids all of this, perhaps sensing the weary rambler is in need of a seat so forts and forests are avoided and it’s straight towards the outskirts of the county town. Quiet lanes took me past Peebles High School, and I was able to pick out a few landmarks from my time there in the 90’s. The massive groundwork operations going on were a reminder that by the time my kids are there it will be a big shiny new school, with no remnants of the 20th century.
Chambers Terrace, near the end of the route. Named after William Chambers, old friend of the blog
Soon I was on Peebles High Street and the route was done, legs weary and soul restored after a day in the sun and ice. As a route the JBW gives you a pretty good cross section of what Peeblesshire is - hills, farms, beautiful but frustratingly small patches of native woodland, old forts, great views, hunners of sheep and not many people. A good day walk, which I’m glad to tick off the list. Bluebird winter days like this don’t come along often, and to have one coincide with my birthday and a day out hiking was as good a present as I could give myself!
One thing I haven’t really talked about is the man himself, John Buchan. I have touched on this interesting character before in other blogs but will do a longer piece on him, and his connections to Peeblesshire, at some later date.
