Stefan Durkacz

Tracing out the boundary of the Tay catchment was easy. The watersheds are clear on the maps, everywhere except for an area west-north-west of Kirriemuir. It's the mystery of the Quharity Burn. This water flows out of the southern fringe of the Mounth, only to be lost in a bog and have its waters stolen and rustled into the Loch of Lintrathen (off the bottom left of the map below) and eventually the River Isla. However the burn and its name are resurrected a short distance further on, re-starting the journey from small beginnings towards the River South Esk. Humans are probably the culprit here. The Inzion Burn, which steals the original Quharity Burn's waters and takes them south-west, is suspiciously straight. It looks like a channel deliberately cut to drain the bog. Newton Moss, at the head of the Inzion Burn, is still marshy according to the map. So here's an example of where the watershed has been altered by human intervention. What implications does it have for my ro...

Following the Tay watershed exactly will be possible for the most part, but not always. In the lowland sections, particularly the initial days from Broughty Ferry to the Highland boundary fault, I'll be threading a way through cultivated land, sticking to minor roads and farm tracks, and maybe the odd dismantled railway line. Forestry may get in the way at one or two points as well. The extent to which I have to deviate from the watershed (or not) in these early days will need to be figured out on the ground. Between Forfar and Kirriemuir the A926 follows the watershed almost perfectly for around three miles. I'm not sure I want to be faithful to this section though. Tramping along a pavement-free 'A' road doesn't appeal, especially when there are options to follow minor roads slightly north, and a combination of roads, tracks and a dismantled railway to the south. The success of the venture depends on it being enjoyable, after all. There's one place where I ma...

A little more poring over maps today building up an overall picture of the walk. Some of those vital statistics are as follows: Length : Approx. 282 miles/454km. Perhaps a few miles longer on the ground - I used Mapometer to work it out.  I reckon it will take me around 3 to 4 weeks. Overall I think this is about the right size of challenge - not on the scale of a Brown or Hewitt, but a bit more than say the average TGO Challenge route with a few more hills on the way. Munros en route : 31 . Corbetts en route : 14 A lot of heathery peathagged lumps up to Dalwhinnie, then some characterful classics thereafter. Here they are in the order they'd be climbed on an anti-clockwise walk (Corbetts in italics; an asterisk means they're a short detour from the watershed, usually c.1km, and can be easily included in the route): Beinn Chaorach, June 2012 Mayar* Tom Buidhe Cairn of Claise Glas Maol The Cairnwell Carn a'Gheoidh Beinn Iutharn Mhor Carn Bhac* An Sgarsoch Carn Ealar Beinn ...

It was maybe seven or eight years ago that I first thought specifically about walking the bounds of the Tay catchment. However since the age of 14 when I started heading out on my own or with friends to the hills, the desire was there to spend an extended time in the outdoors, to link up familiar locations in long multi-day walks. In those early days I cut my teeth on local hills around Tomintoul where my grandfather owned a house for forty years, spending many a day in the Cromdales or in the hills around Glen Livet and Glen Brown, wandering over the little hills whilst daydreaming about the bigger ones. I shortly moved on to exploring the high Cairngorms, quickly climbing my way through the Munros in a series of summer overnight trips, staying in the bothies - Ryvoan, Faindouran, Corrour - often with our dog at the time, Sam, in tow. The thrill of self-sufficiency, of waking up in the mountains, was addictive. I also slept rough on occasion, in the heather in Glen Avon swaddled in a ...

Today I turned 40. Today is also the day I started planning - planning , not daydreaming about - a big challenge that has been knocking around in my mind for a number of years. The two may not be entirely unconnected! I plan to indulge, as never before, the greatest obsession that has stayed with me throughout most of my life: hills and mountains, in particular Scottish ones. If this obsession was a pet dog, the RSPCA would have confiscated it years ago due to neglect. Brought up in Scotland until my mid 20s, for most of the last 12 years I've lived in London. I work full-time, I'm married and have a two-year-old toddler. Trips to the Scottish hills are few and precious. Whilst hillwalking friends resident in Scotland casually look forward to their weekend climb, I'll endure weeks and weeks of anticipation, praying that the weather lottery will come up at least vaguely in my favour. Still, over the years I've managed to chalk up 192 Munros and 50 Corbetts to date, plus ...