I've told you about the 17th century murder of Archbishop Sharp in the woods to the south of the village before, complete with a show-and-tell of the monument, and the grave-site of the Covenanters who, although not the murderers themselves, were the convenient scapegoats. What I haven't told you about is for what these Covenanters were actually fighting...
To quote
Wikipedia: “The Covenanters are so named because in a series of bands or covenants they bound to preserve themselves to Presbyterian doctrine and policy as the sole form of religion of their country." Basically they were fighting the 16th and 17th century fight of John Calvin's Reformation (the Scots Protestant church being influenced by Calvin rather than Luther) against Roman Catholicism. Of course, it's much, MUCH more complex than that (hence the link) but as I've been throwing the Covenanters' name around a little, I thought it was time to throw an equally small amount of light on the subject.
But why now, I hear you whine ask? Well, not long after I came back here I invested in a Ordnance Survey map of the area. As you do. Well, no, actually, I lie. I bought it after my first Epic Walk was established, having previously printed off an incredibly old (which I didn't know was ancient at the time) copy of a rambler's map that covered the village, and Blebo, and finding it strangely lacking. No sh*t. Opening the up-to-date OS map was a revelation, and not just because I found a marking for a Covenanter's Cave further to the west:
A little light reading on the subject told me that this cave was where the real murderers of Archbishop Sharp flew after the deed was done. Halfway up a cliff, apparently.
And as a macabre and not-really-relevant side-note, the member of the clergy who presided over the funeral service of the archbishop in St Andrews, a Bishop Paterson, is infamously remembered by posterity by being the inventor of thumb-screws. Yup.
But I digress.
Off I went, in the direction of Blebo Craigs, then continued further on west instead of turning north to Flisk. It's so pretty around here - tiny old villages and hamlets, quiet single-lane back roads, and rolling countryside (that can't possibly be captured well on a phone camera whose panoramic function is questionable at best)...
Yes, you'll note the presence of square bales. But from this distance you can't tell that these are MOFO bales: enormous and well beyond the humphing-about capabilities of kids who want to make a fort. For shame, farmers. FOR SHAME! Won't anyone think of the children????
But yes, it's very pretty around here, and I think I've found a potential new favourite tree. (What do you mean, that's not a thing?) She's a beauty, and so graceful!
And just down the bottom of this road is the dead-end. For cars, that is... because here we meet the legend that is Jenny's Steps.
Take a look at the OS map again. See the name ‘Kemback'? Look just under the final k and you'll see two squares to indicate buildings, and immediately under that is the right angle of a triangle. Look at the contour lines. Yup. Jenny's Steps and the pathway leading to it (marked by the horizontal part of the triangle) goes straight downhill, although the ancient-walled-surrounded right-of-way (to the left of the field below) starts gently enough, it's true.
But then you meet the real incline.
Toto, we're not in Holland any more.
But that's not really the end of the steepness, as the gradient stays pretty much the same all the way down to the Ceres Burn, even when you hit the road again, but luckily for me this time I could stop halfway down and turn off to search for the trail leading to the cave, as oof, my knees were starting to complain once I started walking downhill on tarmac again! (Perversely they were fine on the steps. I'd say age is catching-up with me, but it's more likely that my knees were just wanting to mess with my head...)
I found a trail. It was very pretty, then very steep, then very untrail-like the further up and around the hill I went, with no sign of a cave, or even cliff, to be found. It was then that I realised that the cave was on the
other side of the hill - the cliff side, duh - and potentially to be found off the other track. Hey, I never claimed I was an expert map-reader, and anyway, take a look as the OS again - the marking is bang-slap in the middle of both trails (she says, possibly protestething too much...). As it was getting late I decided to leave it for another day, primarily because I suspect I would have ended up just wandering through the darkening woods thinking I was on a track, and ending up somewhere near Perth.
Still, on my failed trail I found a delightfully old and tiny bridge which spanned a wee burn that burbled on down the hill.
And I did manage to climb my way back up to the beginning of Jenny's Steps, though by the other side of the right-angle of the triangle, up the rocky path by the side of the woods, overlooking another stunning vista.
At the top of the track I turned north-east again (the hypotenuse, just to keep the triangle analogy going), and wandered through the woods, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of being under thick tree cover again,
revelling in the leafy tracks that tunnelled through the trees,
and delighting at the beginnings of a little huttenbos (dutch for wood hut) - little bit of ‘home' at home! :)
