Moonwalker - Adventures of a Midnight Mountaineer

NO NEED to be alarmed if you've seen mass demos across the country over the last week or so, it was likely just the reaction to my weekly newspaper column coming to an end.

Yes, after four years and more than 200 local offerings, Walk This Way is no more. Not my decision you understand, but you can put away the placards – it was good fun while it lasted and there are no hard feelings. 

Newspaper sales and advertising revenues have been on a continuous downward spiral for years, so there was no surprise when I was told that the latest round of budget cuts meant my column was one of many being axed. Having worked in the print industry for many years, I knew when I took on the column that it would have a reasonably short shelf life. Newspapers are a bit like football clubs – whenever there is any change of management structure, a fresh focus is inevitable.

The column started in October 2020, but I had been sounded out a few months before that during the first Covid lockdown. The Courier weekend magazine was being redesigned and they were looking for a new walking columnist. My initial reaction was cool – I felt it was a more a ramblers' role, a big change from my usual forays in the high mountains. But a few months later I was contacted again, this time with more urgency, as the new-look paper had a definite launch date and no one to fill the walking boots. I was persuaded to give it a go.

The short preparation time meant the first walk had to be one I had recently done – a night ascent of Mount Keen to watch the sunrise. This also fitted well as an introduction for readers to the new kid on the rock and the Moonwalker link. The early weeks were tentative: I felt it had all come about too soon with little time for preparation and there were a few missteps but it soon settled down. In fact, it turned out to be invaluable post-Covid, when restrictions meant most folk were staying more local. 

I discovered so many great days out that I had passed by over the years in my rush to get to the big hills, local venues that were every bit as special as the best of our grand mountains.  The column was soon doubled up to also appear in The Press and Journal magazine so the target area now covered Angus, Fife, Perthshire, Aberdeenshire and all points north. It was always a delight finding new and lesser known paths in the glens and corries, in and around lochs and woodlands, often without seeing another soul.

Some of those lower hills were gems which I intend revisiting over and over, such as Craig Fonvuick near Pitlochry, a summit that holds some of the finest views in the country, and the clutch of hills that define the high ground in Fife. Then there were the old railway lines, the highlight being the Glenfarg Tunnels circuit especially in autumn with brilliant beds of leaves of every colour covering the ground. I also managed to walk most of the Fife Coastal Path during these four years, long lonely windswept wanders easily linked by bus or train.

The wide area covered meant it was always a bit of a balancing act, and putting together regular walks that would work for experienced hill-goers and ramblers' groups and from family outings to short low-level strolls, meant you couldn't please everyone all of the time.

Planning ahead was key, but you couldn't plan too far ahead – whatever I wrote was published two weeks later. There had to be a delicate balance of locations, so if I submitted a Fife outing for instance, I couldn't revisit that area for a few weeks. I also spent a lot of time poring over maps to find interesting and unusual names that could be the focus for a walk.

Every walk was done fresh, there was no relying on past memories. Routes change all the time, so what was there a year ago might not apply now. There was also a responsibility, not just to get things right, but also of best practice regarding the outdoor access code, littering and up to date local information on parking and transport links.

My contribution was sending in the words and pictures. I had no hand in the headlines – they were written by the editorial staff – and the maps were drawn up by the art department from my route instructions. I always responded to queries and complaints unless they were abusive and immediately owned up to any mistakes if I was at fault. I appreciated the input of all those who got in touch with walk suggestions and was encouraged to hear of so many who followed the routes on a weekly basis. 

There was one sour – and sinister – note. For a few months after I had taken on the column, it was the subject of trolling from an individual who, it turned out, had a conviction for horrific child pornography offences. The emails were all written in a similar style and came from dead social media accounts, but at one point he used his real surname. What proved to be the final 'complaint' was so hilariously contradictory that even he must have realised he had gone too far. I decided to file a police report and the emails ceased. He had obviously slid back under the rock from where he came.

It's a shame the column is no more, but everything has its time and one of the positives is that I am back spending my time in the big mountains and I have subsequently noticed a substantial step up in my fitness.

Thanks for all your help and support over these last four years. Happy walking – you know where to find me if you want to say hello.