Okay guys, on anyone’s list of Munros you will find Ben Vorlich (Loch Earn). A gradual easy grind up an increasingly steep but well worn path, this mountain begins at the attractive Loch Earn, and is a simple hour’s drive from Scotland’s capital city, Edinburgh. 

There’s a reason Ben Vorlich’s name can be found on the majority of easiest to climb Scottish Munro lists, standing at 3,221 feet with an obvious path (in the summer) all the way up. Although you’ll often hear me say, there’s NO SUCH THING AS AN EASY MUNRO, this would be a good one to start with if you are looking to get involved in this Munro bagging.

An added bonus to this beautiful hill, other than it’s one of the closest munros to Edinburgh, is that you have the option to continue on and bag the next Munro, Stúc a’ Chróin. This second Munro is not for the faint hearted and definitely offers more challenges than Ben Vorlich’s welcoming climb, but I’ll get to that part later in the story. 

I hadn’t planned to do these two Munros, but as it happened I found myself in Edinburgh one sunny week in early April. I had already bagged Chonzie (arguably the closest Munro to Edinburgh) and I was looking for others to bag. A mere 1.5 hours in the car, these two hills promised a day of lowland hiking and eagerly I convinced my friends R and H to join me on my expedition. 

My pals up North are extremely outdoorsy given the nature of the Highlands, but it’s safe to say that my friends down south are much less so, drawn to the comforts of the city but, to my delight, R and H were eager to bag their first munros, so we set a plan to leave early the next morning at 7am.

The time set, the date confirmed, I felt nothing could go wrong, yet a stone was thrown into the works by the presence of my mother. I want to affirm that my mother (who I feel from my previous descriptions comes across as extremely fit) is your average middle aged woman. She’s a good walker, but would not be one of those crazy middle age mountain climbers. 

Anyway, my mother had signed up to run an ultra marathon (this is a woman who couldn’t run five kilometres) and was in desperate need of practice. She begged to come and assured me that she would not ‘cramp my style’, remaining quiet for the whole journey, a passive observer climbing the Munro. So tentatively I accepted, reminding her of the early start. 

The day began well, the sun shining. Having said I’d pick-up the girls at 7am, I was bang on time for once in my life. My mother too was raring to go and eagerly hopped into Percy (my car). However, two minutes into the journey Percy’s engine grumbled and an odd noise sounded. My mother – who had formerly sworn herself to silence – immediately grew concerned. Pulling into the nearest gas station, we realised relatively quickly that the problem was a lack of oil.  Admittedly I had been ignoring my little red warning oil light for some time, believing it to be faulty…but that’s beside the point. 

We filled up and were well on our way with only an hour’s delay. My friends had anticipated that I would be an hour late anyway (as is my flaky nature), so they were not put out. The journey was nice, despite my mother’s persistent affirmation that she was the one that had resolved the problem with my car, continuing to exert her knowledge in the field of mechanics and ultimately self-proclaim herself to be one (my mother is a Professor of Law, a far cry from the world of machinery). 

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We arrived just after nine, making good time but struggling slightly to find a car space when we arrived (you park along the verge). The path is very easy to find, beginning at Loch Earn. My mother, rather surprisingly after having reaffirmed her unfitness to my friends, set off at a cracking pace and left us behind in the dust. 

I wasn’t to see my mother again for the rest of the hike. 

H, R, and I took the climb with care and stopped regularly. It was a hot day, so water was very much required. Being my friends’ first munro, I didn’t want to scare them off by setting a terrifying pace, so we took the climb steadily, reaching the top with little trauma. 

Unfortunately clouds had come in by the time we reached the top, so it was a little cold and the view was not too impressive. However, spirits were high and with a little bit of encouragement and the promise of bagging a second munro we progressed onwards to the next summit.

We did get lost immediately. A word of warning – a path continues on from the path you climb up Ben Vorlich but This IS NOT the path you want to take. The path that leads to Stuc a Chroin needs you to back track on yourself. My pals were not enthused by having to walk back up the way we came, but we soon returned to the right path and were on our way. 

Now, Stuc a Chroin, is not quite as easy as Ben Vorlich. An avid climber would have read the WalkHighlands description that says “experienced munro baggers may want to progress to Stuc a Chroin”. My pals were neither experienced nor munro baggers, but seeing as we had all avoided reading the WalkHighlands description, we progressed in ignorance.

Where was my mother in all this I hear you ask? Well, I had received a message from her at the top of the last summit (admittedly I’d forgotten she existed). She was now quite far ahead and had befriended someone with a map. Her text read “I am still alive”. A second text followed an hour later warning me to watch out for a “hairy bit”. This cryptic text could’ve meant anything, and I joked with my friends wondering when the ‘hairy bit’ would appear.

The hairy bit did arrive, in the form of a sheer upright jagged cliff face. We had reached the end of the map and with no right or left turn, I assumed the only way forward was up through the fog via the jagged rocks. Like dumb sheep, we looked for someone to follow, but there was nobody around. Down to our right in the far distance we could see the path where people were clearly descending the second summit, but it too looked steep and was a fair bit away. I told my friends, who now were regretting the whole experience, that the only way was up, and so we began to climb vertically.

A faint path did emerge amongst the crags, but this did little to calm our fears and we made slow progress. Indeed, this seemed like the ‘hairy bit’ my mother had spoken of. Each little climb was filled with coaxing, reassurance, and the affirmation that there was no turning back. I reassured the girls that all munros had patches like this (they do not!), and we eventually made it to the summit. 

Well, it wasn’t quite the summit, the cairn is up on the next hill, but we had made it to the top and, at least, off the sheer cliff face. Like in a movie, the clouds disappeared and our new sense of survival meant our high spirits re-emerged along with the views of the valley below. We whipped out the trail mix, downed the lucozade sport, and took in the breathtaking views of Lochan a’ Chroin. 

The descent and return walk was long, but uneventful. The sun continued to shine and the views were wonderful. After a good seven hours (albeit with many stops and breaks) we returned to Loch Earn where my mother awaited by a fire she had stolen from a family who had been cooking on it. 

We learned that she too had been scared out of her mind at the hairy bit and was also on a high from surviving the whole experience. The day ended with a cold swim in Loch Earn and admittedly mum’s fire did come in handy. A few days later, I did have to admit that only “experienced munro-baggers” should have tackled Stuc a Chroin, but my friends were so happy to be back in the comforts of the city that they did not complain. 

It just goes to show… anyone can be a Munro bagger! 

The next day I climbed Ben Lawyers.